Don't Let Go
* * * - scene switch
----- - flashback
* * *
People say comforting things like, 'I know how you feel,' or, 'I understand your pain.' I'm guilty of saying such things. But I realized today that they are only words, that no one could understand, no one could know how it feels. How /I/ feel.
I wasn't the one who found Vincent, lying in pooling blood from a gunshot wound in his chest. No, I was out of town, visiting a friend. I wasn't there to help, to save him from whoever did such a thing to him. To comfort him in his last few breaths.
I'm sure it was someone else, not himself. Others tell me in not-so-many-words he committed suicide. I refuse to believe that. He was happy, I know he was. Screw denial, I knew him, they didn't. Simple as that.
I kept telling myself that.
It didn't stop the tears.
Forget being strong. They were used to me being the rough one, the one who never cried or showed weakness. But now wasn't the time to be me. There was plenty of time for that later. Now, I would grieve.
Then, I would solve this mystery. Track down and /kill/ the bastard who did this.
The thought was useful for temporary relief, but it never lasted long, because I knew that wouldn't be enough.
* * *
It was a normal night. Cloudless, the temperature not too cool or warm. In fact, there was nothing memorable about the evening at all.
Except what happened.
Irony could be so cruel sometimes.
I was over with Shera, as we sometimes spent nights together, two friends enjoying each other's company. We were having a small discussion about nothing of importance; a little this, a little that, yet again nothing special. General chitchat about whatever we could scrounge up. It was like old times, me and her drinking tea and relaxing.
The phone rang, the lighter to the fuse.
"Hello?" I heard Shera ask.
A muffled, panicky reply. That set me on edge, and I tried to prepare myself for bad news, which was, in the end, futile.
"Cid?" Her voice was shaky. I didn't like that. "You might want to come to the phone."
"Cid?" An exact mirror of Shera, Cloud spoke from the other end of the line. "It's about..." Whatever it was, he couldn't say it. That added to my already frayed nerves.
"Spit it out, kid!" I could almost /hear/ the wince.
"I can't say it here. Get over to Nibelheim." He hung up. I turned to Shera, expecting an explanation she didn't have.
* * *
It was a police officer that told me. My friends were having trouble with the news, but not on the same scale as me. They seemed to have some idea what they were doing; I, on the other hand, was in an unbreakable daze for the rest of the night.
In the morning, I was roused from my slumber by the sun shining through curtains. My slumber on a couch. Later, I would find out I had refused to enter the mansion, instead bunking in Tifa's house.
It was almost like I had been drunk the night before - I'll probably regret anything I did, and I had one motherfucker of a headache. God only knew where that came from.
Upon exploring upstairs, I found Tifa still asleep. I decided to leave her a note and just go. I needed to get to the bottom of this.
* * *
I thanked every god I knew, as the police had cleaned everything up. I still didn't want to enter that room, but it was nice to know someone took care of it.
Everything downstairs had checked out. Even the secret hallways he found during his first visit with Cloud. Nothing upturned, no signs anyone had been there.
The upstairs was similarily devoid of evidence. Whoever did this had either known where they were going, or were damn lucky. Or maybe they were just skilled. My first reaction was 'Turks,' but what reason would they have to kill Vincent? Nobody could be ruled out just yet.
The last place to check was the basement. I realized, however, the basement was only accessable via Vin's room. Well, shit. I wasn't ready to go in just yet. It would have to wait. Who planned this building so you had to go /up/ to go down? Morons.
It had been obvious to me why he had chosen that room - he always seemed to be reading when not busy with something important. I remembered the time I caught him reading some weird-ass fairy tale which frankly did not seem appropriate for children.
-----
I walked into the back of the house with hope of finding Vin. He had disappeared for most of the day, and I was bored. Bugging him didn't yield as much fun as anyone else, but I had nothing better to do. I heard a slight noise from the piano room - the one which the clue called 'short of tea and ray.' I had opposed to that little game at first. I'm glad they hadn't given in...
Dismissing thoughts of the past, I attempted to sneak up on him. When I was certain I couldn't get any closer without alerting him to my presence, I tried to scare him.
"Vin!"
"Yes?"
Damn. Didn't even look up from his book. Plenty others stood in a stack in a corner; that explained where he had been all day.
Instead of answering him, I looked over his shoulder at the book he was reading.
"'Mother-naked man'? That smut or somethin'? What's it called?" I distinctly saw annoyance in his crimson eyes before he masked it.
"Yes, no, and Tam Lin."
"Sure?"
"Positive."
"And I was hopin' you'd share."
No answer. I wasn't expecting one. I tried reading from the book again.
"'If I had known but yesterday what I know today, I'd have taken out your two grey eyes and put in eyes of clay. And had I known but yesterday you'd be no more my own, I'd have taken out your heart of flesh and put in one of stone.' Jesus, what the hell /is/ that?"
This time he didn't bother to hide his annoyance. Score one for Cid.
"It's a poem."
"So this... elf queen wants to blind the dude, then kill him? Cruelty."
"It's not meant to be threatening, Highwind."
"How so?" Seemed like she was angry to /me/. Vin wouldn't know angry if it bit him on the ass.
"The queen is loosing her knight. She didn't want him to see the fair woman, nor fall in love. It is her way of mourning." As if that explained anything. He overestimated my intelligence.
"Huh?" Yeah, that'll prove it.
He sighed. "'Eyes of clay' - so he didn't see the woman come to rescue him. 'Heart of stone' - so he didn't fall in love with said woman."
"I get it..." This was better than teasing, he was actually talking, and more than one word at a time.
"You think."
"Exactly. You know me too well."
More silence. This time, I was just content to sit, and watch.
-----
Something told me that I'd find some sort of clue in the basement library. All that was left to question was when could I get myself to go through Vin's room? It was too much, too soon, I realized.
I looked out the window to take my mind of things. The sky always helped relax me. What met my gaze were an uncountable amount of twinkling stars. It was time to rest, get away from the stress of the conscious world.
I found myself mindlessly heading for Vin's room, out of habit, and too tired to realize it.
*****
Tam Lin is copyright the person who wrote it. I don't know who e_e Some Scottish person, I think.
Okay, I took down the self-insertion fic. It was only going to be something I poked when plagued with writer's block, but it's just stupid.
I've really got to stop writing so early. I caught three spelling mistakes. Not like me. n_n; One I found /after/ uploading. Stupid typos.
* * * - scene switch
----- - flashback
* * *
People say comforting things like, 'I know how you feel,' or, 'I understand your pain.' I'm guilty of saying such things. But I realized today that they are only words, that no one could understand, no one could know how it feels. How /I/ feel.
I wasn't the one who found Vincent, lying in pooling blood from a gunshot wound in his chest. No, I was out of town, visiting a friend. I wasn't there to help, to save him from whoever did such a thing to him. To comfort him in his last few breaths.
I'm sure it was someone else, not himself. Others tell me in not-so-many-words he committed suicide. I refuse to believe that. He was happy, I know he was. Screw denial, I knew him, they didn't. Simple as that.
I kept telling myself that.
It didn't stop the tears.
Forget being strong. They were used to me being the rough one, the one who never cried or showed weakness. But now wasn't the time to be me. There was plenty of time for that later. Now, I would grieve.
Then, I would solve this mystery. Track down and /kill/ the bastard who did this.
The thought was useful for temporary relief, but it never lasted long, because I knew that wouldn't be enough.
* * *
It was a normal night. Cloudless, the temperature not too cool or warm. In fact, there was nothing memorable about the evening at all.
Except what happened.
Irony could be so cruel sometimes.
I was over with Shera, as we sometimes spent nights together, two friends enjoying each other's company. We were having a small discussion about nothing of importance; a little this, a little that, yet again nothing special. General chitchat about whatever we could scrounge up. It was like old times, me and her drinking tea and relaxing.
The phone rang, the lighter to the fuse.
"Hello?" I heard Shera ask.
A muffled, panicky reply. That set me on edge, and I tried to prepare myself for bad news, which was, in the end, futile.
"Cid?" Her voice was shaky. I didn't like that. "You might want to come to the phone."
"Cid?" An exact mirror of Shera, Cloud spoke from the other end of the line. "It's about..." Whatever it was, he couldn't say it. That added to my already frayed nerves.
"Spit it out, kid!" I could almost /hear/ the wince.
"I can't say it here. Get over to Nibelheim." He hung up. I turned to Shera, expecting an explanation she didn't have.
* * *
It was a police officer that told me. My friends were having trouble with the news, but not on the same scale as me. They seemed to have some idea what they were doing; I, on the other hand, was in an unbreakable daze for the rest of the night.
In the morning, I was roused from my slumber by the sun shining through curtains. My slumber on a couch. Later, I would find out I had refused to enter the mansion, instead bunking in Tifa's house.
It was almost like I had been drunk the night before - I'll probably regret anything I did, and I had one motherfucker of a headache. God only knew where that came from.
Upon exploring upstairs, I found Tifa still asleep. I decided to leave her a note and just go. I needed to get to the bottom of this.
* * *
I thanked every god I knew, as the police had cleaned everything up. I still didn't want to enter that room, but it was nice to know someone took care of it.
Everything downstairs had checked out. Even the secret hallways he found during his first visit with Cloud. Nothing upturned, no signs anyone had been there.
The upstairs was similarily devoid of evidence. Whoever did this had either known where they were going, or were damn lucky. Or maybe they were just skilled. My first reaction was 'Turks,' but what reason would they have to kill Vincent? Nobody could be ruled out just yet.
The last place to check was the basement. I realized, however, the basement was only accessable via Vin's room. Well, shit. I wasn't ready to go in just yet. It would have to wait. Who planned this building so you had to go /up/ to go down? Morons.
It had been obvious to me why he had chosen that room - he always seemed to be reading when not busy with something important. I remembered the time I caught him reading some weird-ass fairy tale which frankly did not seem appropriate for children.
-----
I walked into the back of the house with hope of finding Vin. He had disappeared for most of the day, and I was bored. Bugging him didn't yield as much fun as anyone else, but I had nothing better to do. I heard a slight noise from the piano room - the one which the clue called 'short of tea and ray.' I had opposed to that little game at first. I'm glad they hadn't given in...
Dismissing thoughts of the past, I attempted to sneak up on him. When I was certain I couldn't get any closer without alerting him to my presence, I tried to scare him.
"Vin!"
"Yes?"
Damn. Didn't even look up from his book. Plenty others stood in a stack in a corner; that explained where he had been all day.
Instead of answering him, I looked over his shoulder at the book he was reading.
"'Mother-naked man'? That smut or somethin'? What's it called?" I distinctly saw annoyance in his crimson eyes before he masked it.
"Yes, no, and Tam Lin."
"Sure?"
"Positive."
"And I was hopin' you'd share."
No answer. I wasn't expecting one. I tried reading from the book again.
"'If I had known but yesterday what I know today, I'd have taken out your two grey eyes and put in eyes of clay. And had I known but yesterday you'd be no more my own, I'd have taken out your heart of flesh and put in one of stone.' Jesus, what the hell /is/ that?"
This time he didn't bother to hide his annoyance. Score one for Cid.
"It's a poem."
"So this... elf queen wants to blind the dude, then kill him? Cruelty."
"It's not meant to be threatening, Highwind."
"How so?" Seemed like she was angry to /me/. Vin wouldn't know angry if it bit him on the ass.
"The queen is loosing her knight. She didn't want him to see the fair woman, nor fall in love. It is her way of mourning." As if that explained anything. He overestimated my intelligence.
"Huh?" Yeah, that'll prove it.
He sighed. "'Eyes of clay' - so he didn't see the woman come to rescue him. 'Heart of stone' - so he didn't fall in love with said woman."
"I get it..." This was better than teasing, he was actually talking, and more than one word at a time.
"You think."
"Exactly. You know me too well."
More silence. This time, I was just content to sit, and watch.
-----
Something told me that I'd find some sort of clue in the basement library. All that was left to question was when could I get myself to go through Vin's room? It was too much, too soon, I realized.
I looked out the window to take my mind of things. The sky always helped relax me. What met my gaze were an uncountable amount of twinkling stars. It was time to rest, get away from the stress of the conscious world.
I found myself mindlessly heading for Vin's room, out of habit, and too tired to realize it.
*****
Tam Lin is copyright the person who wrote it. I don't know who e_e Some Scottish person, I think.
Okay, I took down the self-insertion fic. It was only going to be something I poked when plagued with writer's block, but it's just stupid.
I've really got to stop writing so early. I caught three spelling mistakes. Not like me. n_n; One I found /after/ uploading. Stupid typos.