A/N: One day I woke up with this idea in my head, so I just wrote it down. I figured I should post it. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII or any of its characters.


"Let It Go"

It was painful. He could feel his skin burning, his blood leaking out of the wounds. His shirt was covered in it. His clothes were torn, showing what a pathetic and beaten state he was in.

He had endured much more than this. He was a living testament to the terrible things that could go wrong in life, the perfect example of pain. So why did these trivial wounds seem like such a problem now? Why didn't he just get off of the ground, pull himself out of the small cavern he had taken shelter in? He would heal, given some time. He would be good as new.

So why was he just sitting there?

Vincent Valentine breathed heavily. He tried to move, but every muscle in his body protested. Pain ran through all his limbs. In end, all he could do was lay there.

He sighed, going against his better judgement and reaching for his phone. He flipped it open, its lighted screen cutting through the darkness. He scrolled through his contacts, finding the only number he could trust to always answer.

"Seventh Heaven."

He dialed the number, placed the phone against his ear, and listened to it ring. Within a minute, there was a click, and he heard the familiar voice coming from the other end. "Hello?"

"Tifa," he said weakly, still breathing heavily but trying not to sound completely helpless.

"Vincent?"

"I need your help," he simply said.


An hour later, he awoke from the state of unconciousness he had slipped into. The pain in his body had turned numb, and he wasn't quite aware of where he was. But he knew why Tifa was there, and couldn't help feel relieved as she knelt over him, worry all over her face.

"Vincent, what happened?" she asked, horrified at the terrible state he was in.

He pretended to be too out of it to answer, but truthfully, he was embaressed. How could something like this have happened to him?

"It'll be alright," she said assuringly, gently placing her hand on his arm, "I'm gonna take you home."

He found his eyes fluttering closed, and he could only stare at her for another brief moment, before he slipped unconcious once again. The last thing he heard was her calling his name.


Vincent awoke again, unaware of the time. But he was aware of where he was. He looked up at the ceiling, immediately knowing he was in Seventh Heaven. Unlike usual, the place was quiet, and even the city outside was quiet. The only noise in the room was the ticking clock.

He looked around the room, realising it was the one that belonged to Cloud and Tifa. Wherever the blond man was, he didn't know, but Vincent was laid on his bed. Tifa was on the bed across from his, curled up above the covers, sound asleep. She wasn't dressed for sleeping, and had obviously dozed off while waiting for him to wake up.

He felt a pang of guilt, thinking that he had caused her so much trouble.

Quietly, he sat himself up. He looked down at himself, seeing that his clothes were removed and bandages were all over his body, covering the terrible wounds. The blankets were covering him, warm on this cold night, smelling oddly like . . . Cloud. He wondered where his clothes were, but realised they probably wouldn't do him much good anyway, being torn and covered in blood. Tifa had provided him with a pair of Cloud's though, and they sat waiting at the foot of his bed.

Curiously, Vincent turned his attention back to his bandages. Carefully, he pulled at one, causing it to unpeel from his skin. He looked down at the jagged claw mark, seeing that it was no longer bleeding. It had scabbed over. In a few more days it would be completely gone, and he would be back to normal.

"Vincent?" Tifa softly asked.

He looked to her, seeing her rise out of bed. She smiled softly as she crossed the distance between them. She sat on the edge of his bed. "How are you doing?"

"I'm better. Thank you," he said. He watched her as she took the bandage from him, and looked over the wounds. She looked surprised at the rate he was healing.

"Leave these on for a while though," she instructed, sticking the bandage back to his skin. She ran her fingers along the adhesive line, her touch so warm on his cold skin. He watched her eyes following her fingers, her hair falling down in front of her eyes. He had the urge to move it away, to touch those soft strands, feel them fall through his fingers. He longed to touch her face, to kiss her, to tell her all he really felt about her.

Yet his hand remained stationary on the bed, his lips to himself. She drew back from him, her caring eyes looking at him seriously. "What happened?" she asked.

He turned his eyes from her, having no desire to tell her. She must have known he didn't want to mention it.

"It was obviously an animal of some sort."

"Yeah," he simply confirmed, but the simple reply was enough to drop the subject.

"Well be more careful next time. You had me really worried, Vincent."

He met her gaze again, seeing that she was serious. There had been genuine fear behind her eyes when she found him, and now he saw that some of that fear still lingered. He was touched, grateful.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

She smiled softly, "It better not." She rose from the bed, laying a hand softly on his arm, before she turned and made her way to the door.


Vincent spent that day, and part of the next, just resting in Cloud's bed. Apparently, his friend was out on business, so the fact that he was taking up his sleeping space wasn't a problem. Tife took cara of him the entire time, with help from Marlene and Denzel, who gave him periodic visits.

The whole time he was there, though, he felt as if he shouldn't be. He considered more than once just getting up and leaving, no matter what condition he was in. Yet he stayed. He couldn't help but admit that he liked resting at Seventh Heaven, having a comfortable bed under his back, having people fuss over him. Yet it still didn't feel right, selfishly taking up Tifa's time.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, stepping through the door, a plate and a glass of water in her hands. He smiled softly, nodding his answer. She approached the bed, setting the plate down on his lap and handing him the glass.

"Thank you," he said.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, watching him as he began eating. She sat the whole time, talking to him, telling him all about the buisness at the bar, and of what Cloud was doing so far away from his home. She talked about Barrett, Yuffie, Nanaki, and Cait Sith, telling their current stories with a smile on her face. Usually, Vincent didn't like having someone talking to him so much, but today it was different. It was different because it was Tifa.

He was eventually done eating his food, and Tifa moved closer to him, checking his bandages again. He enjoyed the closeness, enjoyed being able to take in her scent, feel the warmth of her body.

"Wow," she said, removing one of the bandages. There really was no need for it anymore. The wound was practically completely healed. She began removing the rest, setting them aside and leaving his already scar-adorned chest completely uncovered. The fresh wounds were much more prominent than the old ones, but in time, they would all blend in, and he would carry them, hidden behind his shirt.

She touched his chest, on a certain area, her finger softly carressing it. It wasn't a new wound she was touching, but an old one-the oldest one he had. It was the number Hojo had branded him with, the simple "2" that told of all the treatment he had endured.

Vincent had never shown anyone that mark, and had no intention of ever letting anyone see it. But now she had, and he couldn't help but feel ashamed. Pity was in her eyes, her fingers not moving from the mark.

The longer they sat there, the smaller his shame seemed to be. He felt a little relieved that someone had finally seen his scar, and he felt better knowing that someone was her.

This time he lifted his hand, this time he touched her hair softly. She smiled bashfully as his fingers combed through the strands. His fingers trailed down her face, her soft skin. She obviously didn't mind, though she probably should have. She could see the look in his eyes.

Long ago, he had an oppurtunity like this. Someone he cared about was within his grasp, yet he had failed to take her. Year and years of regret had followed, mixed with pain and sadness. What he wouldn't give to go back to that time, to fix all of it, to say what he really felt and do what he knew he should have. But he never could. That time was gone, in the past. He was here now. Tifa was here.

He wouldn't let the oppurtunity slip by him again. He wouldn't live in regret.

He drew nearer and he kissed Tifa, not saying a word, not giving her any warning. His right hand caressed her face, his left hand dug into the sheets of the bed, claws tearing the fabric. He kissed her deeply, conveying all he felt, telling her without words everything that had been on his mind. This was why he had called her, this was why he had stayed.

And she returned his kiss. Cloud was obviously forgotten, so far away. She shouldn't have been kissing him back, shouldn't have been melting into his arms. They shouldn't have been doing this, and yet they were.

They didn't think what would happen if the kids saw them, what would happen if they kept going. For once in his life, Vincent did a purely selfish thing.

Eventually, Tifa broke away from him. He didn't want to stop. He wanted to pull her down on the bed beside him and ravish her in more kisses. Yet he knew he couldn't. She had come to her senses. She now remembered Cloud, the fact that they were together, the fact that they practically had a family.

She looked a little ashamed, and he immediately felt the same emotion. "I'm sorry," he quickly said.

She didn't answer him. She wiped his kiss from her mouth, before she rose and left the room, pulling the door shut after he. Vincent was left alone. Once again, all alone.


Vincent had decided to leave. He would slip out quietly in the night. There was no sense in crossing paths with Tifa again. He would stay away from her for a while, give them both enough time to forget about the kiss, for everything to go back to normal.

He quickly dressed, putting his own clothes back on, now that Tifa had mended them the best she could. He was in the middle of putting his cloak over his shoulders, just about to leave after that, when she came into the room.

They looked at each other, but for a long while didn't say anything. Neither of them knew what to say. In the end, Vincent figured they didn't really have to. He fastened his cloak, and made ready to leave.

"You're leaving?" she asked.

"Yes," he simply answered.

"You don't have to."

He smiled dryly. "I think I do." They both were silent for another moment. Things had become so awkward between them so quickly. "I'm sorry about earlier," he apologized again.

"It was my fault, too," she quietly answered.

Vincent sighed softly, before walking towards the door. He passed Tifa, stopping just behind her. She didn't look back at him, just stood staring at the floor. He watched her, once again remembering Lucrecia, and all the regrets.

But this time was different, he realised. Tifa wasn't Lucrecia, Cloud wasn't Hojo. This situation wouldn't end like that one. He wouldn't live regretting his mistakes, wondering what the world would have been like if he had just acted. Cloud was a good person, he would take care of Tifa. He would be much better than what he could ever offer her.

"I'll see you around," he simply said.

She nodded, but didn't speak.

He left after that, leaving Seventh Heaven, leaving Edge. In time, Tifa would be alright, so would he. What he felt for her might not ever go away, just like his feelings for Lucrecia never went away, but this time it was different. This time, he could let it go.

End


A/N: Please review. :D -Endellion