Michael Grant owns BZRK and these characters. Enjoy :D

Wilkes felt stupid. It was an unfamiliar feeling for her; the usual word that defined her was 'shameless' or 'flagrant'. But she only had to carry a tray of what looked like aeroplane food up to Vincent once so she intended on getting it over and done with. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him, though, cause usually he was so... you know. Invincible. Wilkes had to chuckle at that. Get it? she asked herself. Vincent, invincible. Hah.

"Vince? It's Wilkes. I have your food," she said. "Can I come in?"

No answer, but that's what Ophelia had told her to expect. He apparently didn't talk much anymore, just sat staring blankly, too clearly remembering that he'd been so close to death that he could almost touch it.

She kicked the door open slowly and lingered in the doorway for a few moments. Vincent didn't look up, didn't acknowledge her at all.

"What's up?"

He glanced at her, then. She stepped into the room and placed the tray next to his bed. "Thank you," he murmured.

She flinched a little when he spoke. "No problem, Vince. Anything else you need?"

Vincent hesitated for a moment. He bit his lip in uncertainty, but then said softy, "Just... stay here awhile. Talk to me, nobody talks to me."

Wilkes admittedly felt a little shocked. This was not at all what she'd expected, not in the slightest. He sounded like a child. And for Vincent to want to speak to her, he really must have lost his mind. "Sure."

She sat on the edge of his bed, fiddling nervously with her shirt. "Um, what do you want to talk about?"

She cursed herself for the jump in her voice.

"You," be answered immediately.

Her heart jumped. "Why would you want to talk about me for?"

"I'm worried about you, Wilkes, I want to know if you're alright."

"What? I should be asking you that," Wilkes frowned. "I'm fine, thanks."

Vincent must have heard her voice crack slightly, even though it was almost inaudible, because he placed his hand in Wilkes' and whispered, "Don't lie to me."

"Vin-"

"Don't try to tell me that you're okay because I know you're not. I can see right through you."

Wilkes heart pounded like the first time she'd gotten The Talk. It was true; Vincent was reading her like a book. "How do you know this?"

He looked straight into her eye, and she felt uncomfortable and fidgety. "The way you act. The way you speak. I know when someone's unhappy, Wilkes, I am the definition of unhappy."

If somebody had to know, Wilkes reasoned, the best person to tell would be Vincent. He wouldn't go making a big deal about it.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

She did, actually. Very much so. "I don't want to make more problems for you."

"There's no problem in being happy. Not that I would know, anyway, but you should."

She couldn't believe Vincent was speaking to her like this. He'd never seemed like the comforting sort of person. "I don't know, I guess... it's just... um..." She shook her head. "Renfield."

She could only vaguely remember that night, which was odd, because it had been so vivid as it unfolded. Dead Renfield, no one left to touch when she needed comforting. No more desperate midnight love, nothing, just dead Renfield.

When they'd been around the others they'd acted like they hated each other. But alone was a different story, very different. Just for Wilkes to be able to curl up in Renfield's arms in a dark room on a warm bed, that was all she'd needed.

Surprisingly, Vincent nodded. "I thought so. You've got no one to lean on now, is that what it is?"

"Yeah." She breathed heavily as Vincent's grasp on her hand tightened.

"I think I can help you with that."

Wilkes felt a strange sort of feeling that maybe she'd missed something. Why was Vincent doing this? Why all of a sudden did he want to help someone he always seemed to be sick of? So much for him not talking.

"...stop, Vincent, why..."

"You're like me, Wilkes, finished. For now, at least. But I think of people sort of like puzzles," he breathed. "When you're born, you're a complete puzzle. If something bad happens, you lose a couple of pieces. If something terrible happens, the pieces scatter. It's hard to put the puzzle back together.

"If it's a complicated puzzle, it's not easy to do by yourself," he went on, "especially if some of the pieces are missing. But if you've got someone to help you, it's a lot easier."

"...so, if I h-help you with your puzzle," Wilkes said softly, "You'll help me w-with mine."

Vincent nodded. Both of them seemed like people with complicated puzzles. The kind that sat on a shelf in a cold, dark attic for years with nothing to do but collect dust. In the days that they were used, people weren't careful with them, so their pieces went missing. So they'd be incomplete until someone decided to look for the lost parts of it. It was frustrating when you couldn't find them, but rewarding when you did.

"What does your puzzle look like, Vincent?" Wilkes asked. He thought for a moment.

"It's just black. People cut out pieces of paper to fill in the missing parts, and they don't fit properly," he answered. "Trying to make up for all the stuff that went wrong, I guess."

Wilkes saw unwanted flashbacks. People trying to make up for all the stuff that went wrong, Wilkes trying to make up for everything but just making it worse.

"I heard you talking to Plath about Renfield. You guys weren't exactly in love. But is that what you want? Do you want love?"

Wilkes breathed in sharply. Her heart beat faster."I sorta do. But why? Why would you say that?"

"Why do you think, Wilkes?"

"No, I thought you hated me." She shook her head. "Vincent, do you..."

"I have feelings for you."

That's it, just blurt it out. "No you don't, stop talking like that. You've always hated me. Ever since that first day I was here you've always avoided me."

Vincent didn't look as though he was lying, though. Quite frankly, he'd never looked more honest. "You and Renfield always acted like you hated each other."

A fair point.

"...but..."

"Please believe me."

"I- I do, I do, but is this a recent thing? Did you just have an, I don't know, an epiphany?'

Vincent rubbed absently at his eyes. "No. Like you said. I've always avoided you."

Wilkes didn't know what to say. She was awestruck. This couldn't be true. All this time she'd honestly thought Vincent didn't like her, and now he was...

"So, you want to... get together?"

"Only if you're comfortable with it."

He's mentioned love before. This time, maybe, Wilkes was ready for proper love. No more one nighters or anything. Real love like she always saw in movies. "I am. I think I'm ready for this."

"It's a relief to hear you say that. I was actually nervous about this," he admitted. "Talking to you and everything. Maybe that's why it took me so long to tell you. Then you and Renfield... I missed my chance."

Wilkes bit her lip. She watched as Vincent sat himself up against the wall.

"Wilkes? How are you taking this?"

"…alright."

Vincent gestured to her to sit next to him. She obliged, but couldn't help but notice how vacant he seemed. Or maybe vacant wasn't the right word... more like... innocent. But who in their right mind would describe Vincent as innocent? Of course Wilkes had known for years that she wasn't in her right mind. That's what everyone said, but they always put it a little more discreetly than that.

"But why would you like me, Vincent? There are heaps of girls that, you know, would..." she trailed off. "I'm weird, I'm a mess. You're normal. Why me?"

Vincent sighed, "I'm just about as normal as you are, Wilkes, in case you haven't noticed."

Then he did something else Wilkes would never have expected. Vincent placed his arm around her waist and pulled her nearer to him.

"The both of us, we're unfinished puzzles."

She had a sudden temptation to lean forward and kiss him. She had never wanted it like this before, almost hysterically. It was finally the right guy, the right moment. She didn't want a repeat of the other 'relationships' she'd had.

"Vincent?"

"Yes?"

"...um. Are you, you know, thinking what I'm thinking?"

Wilkes thought she saw the slightest grin on his face, but she must have imagined it. "Is this what you're thinking?'

Yes, yes it was; Vincent's mouth was on hers. The rush in her stomach was absolutely overwhelming. He moved the arm that had been on her waist up and down her back slowly, making her shiver in delight. She swore against his mouth, he swore against hers.

Wilkes pulled away, placing one hand on his neck and the other on his chest. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking."

"Maybe you should think that more often, because I quite enjoyed that."

Wilkes nodded. "Me too."

Vincent stared straight at her with a very un-Vincent-like gaze. Soft and winsome, inviting. He wrapped both arms around her in a firm but kind embrace.

"You won't tell anyone, right?" Wilkes whispered into Vincent's chest. She ran her fingertips gently across his cheek, smiling to herself when he sighed in satisfaction. "You won't tell the others?"

"Of course not, Wilkes. Why would I tell?"

Wilkes believed him. There wasn't any way either of them would benefit from the others knowing, it would just make things awkward. They both knew that they'd have to make an effort to hide this.

"Next time we'll go further, okay?" Wilkes said. "There'll... be a next time, right?"

"Of course." He placed a few strands of her hair behind her ear. "I'm not like that."

Wilkes leant in and gave him a sweet, soft kiss on his lips. He kissed back, a little more forcefully than she had. That was a good feeling, knowing he wanted to kiss back.

It was too bad that neither Vincent nor Wilkes noticed Nijinsky standing at the doorway and listening to them the whole time. Jin, of all people. But Jin was glad that they'd found solace in each other, that was the main thing. He watched with a sheepish grin plastered on his face as Wilkes and Vincent fell asleep in each other's arms. It was sort of cute but in a demented way; someone who knew no pleasure and someone whose pleasure knew no boundaries. He wouldn't tell. Not just yet.

Please review, constructive criticism welcome.