Coward's Eyes
By S.J. Kohl

Vincent/Cloud
PG-13, for dark themes.
Summary: Vincent teaches Cloud how to cheat loneliness. Set post-game and pre-movie.

A/N: A fic that's gasp not sex or total dark fiction! Go me!!! Although…it WOULD be sex, I'm sure, if I could have made it fit… shakes head Maybe I'll have to write a sequel or something.

Cloud stared out over the city, absently rubbing at his left arm even as the toes of his boots hung over the edge of the building. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be over, this nightmare. It would've been over, except…

I made a promise. Yes, he'd made a promise. A promise he'd intended to keep. There was no life for me, not without them. But I would have made one, I would have… Cloud sighed. He would have made a life, a life he could have lived for Zack. He dug his nails into the flesh of his arm, wincing slightly at the damning ache that sliced through his skin. Cloud closed his eyes. The stars were bright tonight. Too bright. Her sadness cleaved the shadows across his face. He could feel her disappointment even through the distance that lay between them.

But he was used to that. Disappointment. He'd failed her, after all. He'd failed all of them. And now… Now I'm going to fail them again. Cloud opened his eyes. Even he wasn't coward enough to turn his face away from his own failures. Drawing in a deep breath, he spread his arms wide.

"I didn't know you could fly."

Cloud froze, his eyes focusing on the city lights, flickering hundreds of feet below. Damned and damning electric lights. This was the tallest building in Midgar, probably the tallest on the continent, and he still couldn't get far enough away from them. They chased him. Burned him. Cloud didn't speak, didn't even drop his arms. I could still do it. I should do it. Right now. Nothing's changed. But… He was supposed to be alone. Alone with his memories and the way he could see them behind his eyes, strong and shining and beautiful as they'd always been. And he wasn't alone. Not anymore. Slowly, achingly, Cloud dropped his arms, the weight that had almost been lifted settling into place over his heart once more. He closed his eyes. "Vincent. You shouldn't be here."

"I won't stop you."

An almost-sigh of relief hissed out from between Cloud's slightly parted lips. Vincent was the only person who could stop him, after all. Cloud shuffled forward another inch, grimly enjoying the rush of the air beneath his feet. He couldn't fly. Can't fly, can't fly, can't fly. That was the best part, the only reason to be standing on top of the world. Almost close enough to touch the stars. But still too far, too far. He would be closer soon. Cloud licked his lips. "Then leave."

The soft sound of footsteps scraping over cement. Vincent's voice again, but closer this time. "I can't."

Cloud's eyes snapped open, and he almost growled, but his voice came out as nothing more than a dying whisper. "Why not?"

Vincent didn't answer immediately, but Cloud's skin crawled with the heat of the man's stare. Finally, there were a few more shuffling steps. And then Vincent stood beside him, the pale skin of his face masked in fabric the color of dried blood. Cloud shuddered and looked away, but Vincent didn't seem to notice. He only stared down, down, down at the city's electric fires. "We never got along."

Cloud didn't answer.

Vincent shrugged. "I wasn't lying. I won't stop you. It's just…there's something I want to tell you before you go."

Cloud glanced back over at Vincent, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I was never very kind to you." Vincent paused, his eyes gleaming a deep red in the silver light of the stars. "It's not because I thought you were worthless. It's because…I could see him in you. I still can."

Cloud almost laughed. So this guilt belonged to him too. Sephiroth. Vincent's son…maybe. And I killed him. And every time Vincent looked at him, he was reminded of what Cloud had done. All this time wondering why he didn't like me, and I never even thought of that. Cloud licked his lips. "I'm sorry. I…"

"No." Vincent shook his head. "It's not that. You did what you had to do, and I don't blame you for it. I never did. Just like I never blamed him for becoming Jenova's puppet. No. Those burdens are mine to bear." He paused, his lips pulled back in a mocking half-smile. "I should have taken him away. Taken them both away. But I didn't. I locked myself away instead and left them there because it was what she wanted. What she thought she wanted. I would have done anything for her. I still would."

Cloud nodded, a familiar ache slipping through his veins. Zack… He cleared his throat. "Then…why?"

Vincent laughed. "Because you're not my son."

"I…what?"

"You feel like her. You always have. I…want you. As I've always wanted her. But…" Vincent's feet scraped along the stone surface of the roof's edge until his toes, too, were embraced by nothing more substantial than the night air. "I can see him in your eyes. In the set of your jaw and the way you move. I could never find a balance."

Cloud's breath caught in his throat, and he could feel the air around him changing. She was changing. His lungs were no longer thick with the cloying scent of sadness and disappointment. There was interest there, and expectation. "You…"

Vincent shrugged. "It's not important. I just…wanted you to know." He shot Cloud a sidelong glance. "I would do anything for you. That's why I won't stop you. If this is what you want."

"But I…"

"You're dying." It wasn't a question.

Slowly, Cloud nodded.

Vincent moved then, stepping back from the edge in a whirl of gold and scarlet. He stood just behind Cloud, trailing metal fingertips down the loose sleeve of gray linen that shielded Cloud's left arm from view.

Cloud shivered. "Vincent…"

"You can fly."

"No." Cloud shook his head. Can't fly, can't fly, can't fly. "I can't. I can't fly."

Fingers. Skin. Fingers on skin. Touching him like no one had touched him since Aerith had died. And Vincent…close, close, closer. Brushing against him, chest to back, back to chest. A whisper in his ear. "Let me show you."

Cloud whimpered and closed his eyes. But no. Only cowards closed their eyes and he wasn't a coward. He didn't have coward's eyes. Forcing his eyes open wide, Cloud spread his arms, wishing, only wishing he had a pair of wings.

"You can still follow his dream. For a short time. You don't need to be this close to the stars to feel them above you. And you don't need wings to fly." Vincent's arms closed around Cloud's waist, pulling the smaller man tight against him. "Let me show you."

Can't fly. Swallowing roughly, Cloud nodded. Can't fly, can't fly. He relaxed into Vincent's arms.

And they fell. Pressed together along the full length of their bodies, the lights of Midgar burning up toward them, they fell.

Can't fly.

But Vincent's fingers were sliding up Cloud's sides and reaching out to grip his hands, holding his arms open wide like a pair of flared wings. Gray wings. Dark wings backed with a flash of red. And Cloud's eyes were wide open against the rush of the wind, tears streaming back along his cheeks.

They were flying. Soaring, gliding down, down, down toward the other buildings of the city, twisting and shifting as they slipped over and around them, drifting down toward electric orange and impenetrable steel.

Vincent's grip on Cloud's hands tightened. No sadness now on the wind. Only laughter. Flying. I can fly. Cloud smiled.

They landed, finally, on the crumbling roof of a familiar church, and Cloud breathed in the light scent of flowers curling through the breeze. He turned to face Vincent, not even bothering to wipe the tears from his eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, he stared up into Vincent's almost colorless face. "Thank you."

Vincent shrugged. "You needed to know."

Cloud nodded. He took a step closer, swallowing harshly as he reached out a hand to brush it against the cold skin of Vincent's cheek. "You won't leave me."

Slowly, very slowly, Vincent shook his head. "No."

And slowly, very slowly, Cloud rose up on wind-frozen toes. He kissed Vincent. It was a silent kiss, soft and almost distant. But it was a promise, an acknowledgement. He was going to die. They both knew it. There was no pretending between them. And Vincent…he was stronger than Cloud was. He didn't need protecting. So maybe, just maybe…they could die together. They could die a little more every day, Cloud living out his promise and Vincent following the path he'd chosen until they fell together, Cloud into death and Vincent into solitude.

Cloud closed his eyes as he parted his lips and allowed Vincent's tongue to slide along the length of his. This time, he didn't need to see to know that he was not a coward.