Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Square-Enix. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.
Sorry
A/N: Set during DoC, before the attack on Deepground.
Why the engine room? He couldn't quite remember. Not with the toll that was beginning to collect. A dark spot in his vision, and then the realm that his eyes did wander distorted to red. It was meant to be once in a blue moon, when there was a place where he could isolate himself. But there were so many people on board the ship, around every corner, and within every room.
And the beast was waking yet again.
A stupid thing to wonder, why it couldn't, rather wouldn't, leave him be. They were two beings in the same container, struggling for space, freedom, domination. One wanted to live, while the other sought to destroy. There had never truly been a time in which they'd coexisted, Protomateria or not.
It was sickening to him, the way this strain of demon saw everything he did, felt what he could. Yet, it meant nothing to a creature so nefarious and vile as Chaos. Vincent could feel it, hear its thoughts when it overcame him.
Had he anything left, Chaos would be pleasured to take it all away.
It was such a shame that only in those moments he could see her clearly. Like looking through glass.
There were rarely any words for him. Perhaps a smile, were he lucky. More often than not, her muted words would fall upon him, lips moving to the same sad song:
I'm sorry.
And for what? He'd asked her so many times, and an answer had never been presented. For trading her happiness for his life, or perhaps for corrupting him with the soul of death's dark harbinger? Or, maybe, on those nights where he wished his life had ended, she was sorry he'd lived.
Still, he'd never stop wishing, praying that some god, out in the deep reaches of space, would hear him, and answer the undying question:
Did she ever love me?
