Sequel to Added Burdens. Thanks to Smabbi and Wannon for betaing.
~ Facing Eternity ~
Elena paused again on the stairs,
puffing. She wasn't fat exactly, but she was nowhere near as
trim as she had been at twenty. Thank God I left the Turks! she thought,
then laughed at herself. She had been
politely "relocated" when new management took over Shinra. She just hadn't been cut out for that sort
of lifestyle.
Break's over, she
told herself, resuming the upward climb.
"I'm… huff… too… pant… old… wheeze… for this," she said aloud, thankful to finally be at the bottom.
At fifty she was pretty cushy in
her desk job, she hadn't had to do any actual fieldwork in years. But President Reeve was verging on
retirement, and he was determined to get everything in order for his
successor. As founder and head of the
historical research department, it was Elena's job to make sure all the records
were in order.
She could have delegated this job to one of her junior staff members,
but they were all frantically busy doing their jobs. Besides, the Shinra mansion library had all been catalogued. All she had to do was check everything was
there, and supervise the loading.
"You sure took your time, boss,"
Rowan, her aide, said. Elena swatted
lazily at his head as he grinned cheekily and sidestepped her. They had a friendly relationship; they had
been working together for ten years, after all. Has it really been that
long?
She'd had her share of excitement
during the Sephiroth business but, she admitted to herself, she hadn't been a
good Turk. Over eager, thoughtless, and
far too obsessed with her boss. Tseng… it had been thirty years last
week. Next week would be thirty years
last week since Meteor first appeared in the sky. The celebration was not marked, not for Tseng or Meteor, or
anyone else that had died in that tumultuous time. They had been told it would be better if they forgot.
The Turks, what was left of them,
met every year in Junon. They got
drunk, reminisced, did the Turk thing.
They hadn't met this year though, Rude's death, at fifty-two, had hit
Reno hard. Elena had turned up anyways,
hoping to offer sympathy but Reno hadn't come.
She worked methodically as she
thought, automatically checking each item against her list, then handing it to
Rowan to pack. He kept up a steady
stream of chatter, which she had long since learned to tune out. She'd never had a best friend, like Reno had Rude.
It was strange to think of one without the other. She supposed that Reeve was the person she
was closest to, they'd drifted together over the years. Sometimes sleeping together, usually just
being with one another. She knew that
she would be saddened if he died, but not gutted
as Reno had been.
"Have you seen 'item
sixty-three'?" she asked, noting it hadn't been checked. Rowan glanced around, flipping over a few
tags. "No, what is it?" There was no urgency in the question. Things were always going missing, the
removal man probably shifted it out of the way. Elena checked her list.
"It's down as a lamp," she
replied. Rowan shrugged. "It's probably in the hallway, I saw some
stuff out there on the way in. Do you
want me to check?"
Elena sighed, "Yeah, might as
well. Bring everything else in while
you're there." Rowan sighed, rolling
his eyes, "Yes ma'am," he said. He
hated lifting.
He grumbled his way to the hall,
as Elena stifled a giggle, she'd help him in second, as soon as she'd had a
breather.
"Ah… boss?" Rowan quavered his patent 'scared
voice'. "What Rowan…? Are there bats out there?" No answer.
Elena waited patiently for the blood-curdling scream that would signify
the punch line of the joke.
"Rowan, I'm not going to fall for
this again," she said, a little impatiently.
When Rowan answered, his voice was serious. "I'm not joking. You're
going to want to see this."
Elena walked out into the hallway,
Rowan was holding a lamp in one hand and a torch in the other. "In there," he said, indicating an opened
door behind him. I don't remember seeing that on the way in.
"That board was covering it," he
said, indicating a panel lying to the side.
She walked through towards the open door and peered through. Rowan directed a torch beam over her
shoulder, illuminating the darkness. It
took her eyes a few seconds to adjust, and when they did she gasped.
"Is it… occupied?" she
whispered. It didn't seem right to talk
loudly. Rowan shook his head. "I think so…"
Elena turned, blinding
herself in the torch's beam. She
blinked rapidly as Rowan shifted its focus.
"You didn't check?"
Rowan shook his head. "No…?"
The gloomy atmosphere of the
basement was making them both nervous.
Elena turned wide eyes towards him.
"Should we… get some backup?" she looked at him for a second, then they
both began to laugh, although quickly stifling their mirth.
"Back up?" Rowan queried.
Elena grinned. "Now you see why I'm not a Turk," she said,
"I meant, like, someone official." With
that cleared up, they both ignored the question, creeping forward in morbid
fascination.
~ * ~
He sat and listened, carefully, without judging. I found myself sharing more than I wanted
to… but not quite everything. I didn't
tell him why it was my fault. I didn't
tell him that I had loved Lucrecia to the point of obsession, that I had loved
her with the mindless devotion of a puppy… I loved her so much that I didn't
realise that I had no desire for her.
I would never have
realised it if Hojo hadn't confronted me.
He called me names, which for the first time I realised were true. I fled his accusations, and left Lucrecia to
her fate. Then, like a coward, when
faced with my sins I retreated into guilt and depression, and allowed my
beloved's child to turn into an evil, destructive force that had to be stopped. The only consolation I can give is that
Lucrecia remained ignorant of Sephiroth's transformation… but Sephiroth
remained ignorant of his mother.
I could see that without telling
him everything I couldn't make him understand.
But when I tried to speak the words, they wouldn't come. After our confessions we sat in silence
until Cloud finally spoke.
"Vincent, I…"
I smiled slightly, hoping that I
could prompt him to talk, to share with me again.
Then, he surprised me. We were standing so close, too close
perhaps. It took so little for him to
bridge the gaps between us, to just lean forward and kiss me. I wanted so much to respond, but my mind was
frozen. I stood still against his
warmth, revelling in his touch, but not answering with my own.
He pulls back and looks at me in
confusion. I can't do this. Not… not
again. I'm not meant for this. Love me and be betrayed… I am a monster…
"I'm sorry… I lo… I love you." He
stutters when he says it, bravado fleeing in the face of my coldness.
"I cannot love you." Because
I do not deserve you…
"Why? I can love you despite my failings… we are so much alike… you understand me!" He is so full of passion, so full of life… I
want to explain everything to him so he will understand. Twice I open my mouth to tell him that I am
a coward, and a fool. To reveal my
heart and what sorrow it brings others.
To tell him exactly how I betrayed my love, and why I cannot judge her
betrayal… because I betrayed her too.
I cannot say it… so instead I opt
for the cowards way again.
"It's unnatural. What you did is a sin against God… against
the natural order of things. Your
actions add to the burden you must bear… the burdens I must bear. You cannot love me. I love Lucrecia and I always will. What you feel is an abomination."
He looks shattered, I know I was
unnecessarily harsh, but it's better this way.
He apologizes, and leaves quickly, not wanting to prolong our suffering.
What have I done?
Again I have hurt and betrayed my love… Like a coward I return to my coffin, even the nightmares are
better than facing him again, living with the burden of loving him, the burden
of hurting him.
I cannot love him. I will not love him.
~ * ~
He relived the moments again and
again. Were the feelings… the
attraction a punishment from the Planet?
He could find no other explanation for a love so cruel.
Through his sleep he had dreamt
often of the blond warrior, the last person he has seen in this lifetime. He had savage nightmares of death and
destruction, painful memories of times gone by, but mainly he dreamt of what
could have been, and that hurt worse than any nightmare.
He swept from his memories to
reality without realising it. He was
lying there in utter blackness and through that he could hear voices. Abruptly he was transported back. Déjà vu.
He blinked in the sudden and unfamiliar light, seeing it again for the
first time.. Through eyes unused to
seeing reality and in darkness more suited to sleep he could see a pale face
framed by golden hair
"Cloud?"
Then it shattered.
~ * ~
"Oh my God! It's Valentine!"
Elena exclaimed in relief and recognition.
"Valentines?! What!?"
Elena sighed, "Vincent Valentine, you moron," she snapped,
suddenly losing all good humour.
"Oh."
Vincent Valentine was famous amongst the Turks, but little
was known about him outside their circle.
"He was a Turk when Tseng was just starting out," she
explained shortly.
The pale figure was blinking in their torchlight. His mouth was moving. Elena realized that he was trying to talk.
"Hush!" she said, stilling Rowan's questions.
"Let me hear him."
Rowan hushed obediently and they both leant over the coffin.
"Why have you disturbed my rest?" He couldn't move with them
hovering over his coffin, but the calm question startled them, and they both
took a large step backwards, stumbling against each other.
"W-we, uh… sorry," Elena stuttered, backing away. Vincent flew from the coffin.
"The time I've spent in atonement has not assuaged my guilt,"
Vincent said, remembering the nightmares and memories that haunted him. I
can't face him now... he won't remember me anyway… years have passed whilst I
have hidden in cowardliness, unable to forget what I was too scared to accept.
He was talking more to himself than to them, but Elena found
herself filling the silence after his singular statement.
"You've been missing since… Meteor… have you been here for
thirty years?" she asked in
disbelief. Valentine was a legend, not
a God.
Sorrow showed in Vincent's time-missed face. "My sleep does not rest me… and my dreams
bring me no peace," he said, "I have burdens in abundance." Perhaps
more than when I began my atonement.
With a start Elena remembered an order given in the first
year of Reeve's 'rule'.
Reeve stood
at the behind the large desk. He seemed
small, but his voice was determined, and he had gained their respect. He paused a moment to glance at the assemble
sample of Shinra, and then he spoke.
"Former members of
AVALANCHE are not under any circumstance to be disturbed." He paused again, and glanced at the papers
clutched in his hand. "Cloud Strife,"
he waited for murmurs to die down, "Has especially requested that no one
disturb Vincent Valentine. Currently
residing at the Shinra Mansion in Nibelheim."
The murmurs
swelled at the mention of the former Turk, long believed dead.
"Infringements
will be dealt with severely." Reeve
concluded.
The memory had slipped through the cracks of her mind, the
order had been given years ago, and she'd not had any reason to remember it in
a long time.
"I wonder if Reeve knows that you're still here," Elena
muttered to herself, "We should go…"
Vincent made no move to stop them, watching in silence as
they left. I don't belong to their world, now more than ever. With each minute I spend alone, I grow more
alienated and less human. If I were to
leave this place I would not understand the world as it is now.
He sunk slowly into the coffin that was his home, almost
looking forward to the nightmares of his oblivion. At least in them I am
alive.
He lay in darkness, waiting for sleep to overwhelm. Used to instant oblivion, this lying and
waiting was new and unfamiliar for him.
For the first time since he'd died*, sleep evaded him. Instead of his familiar nightmares, and
unwelcome memories, a face floated in the shadows of his mind. Cloud…
~ * ~
He blinked in the sunlight, and drew his mask higher over his
face. Why am I out here? he asked himself, again. He had not envisioned himself ever walking
amongst the living again. They were not
the people and places he'd known in his first life.
He was going to Kalm, where Tifa had said she was going to
live. The thought of Cloud and Tifa
together hurt him again, even though he'd dreamt often of them being together,
the idea of it still pained him. I can't blame him if he is… it's been
decades since he claimed to love me…
It didn't matter if they were together, things between them
would never work anyway, but he wanted to see Cloud again, to tell him that he
didn't hate him… to make things better between them. I need to live again.
~ * ~
The two graves stood side by side. Ivy trailed over both headstones, but the effect was obviously
desired, considering the neatly trimmed grass and gleaming marble. He read the simple inscription on the first
grave a second time, not quite believing that she was gone.
Tifa Lockhart-Strife
Beloved Mother, Wife, Friend and Companion
He could not reconcile the image of Tifa, strong, caring
friend with Tifa, dead. She was too young, even in the time I spent
in pity and guilt she could not have grown old. He felt guilty for wishing her away from Cloud, and guilty for
begrudging their marriage. How did this happen…?
His eyes passed to the second grave, fearing what it would
say, knowing what it would say.
Cloud Strife
Beloved
He felt a tear form in his eyes, for both of them, and for
the child who kept their graves. A child of Tifa and Cloud would be a
force. Seeing the name on the grave
had brought home to him how much Cloud meant to him. For 30 years he'd mourned him, built him up in his mind, loved
him.
"Didn't think I'd ever see you again."
A ghost's voice. He
looked at the second grave again. Then
turned, and saw a man that he was trying to convince himself was gone.
"Cloud?"
"I blamed myself for awhile, you know," Cloud remarked
conversationally, "thought it was 'cause I didn't love her enough." He leant forward and uncovered the rest of
the inscription.
Cloud Strife
Beloved Daughter
"Tifa called her that." he continued, "Her last words were
'look after Cloud, my baby'. I thought
she was talking about me, she didn't know that baby was still-born." He shrugged.
Vincent looked at him sadly, this distant, bitter man was not
the Cloud Strife of 30 years ago.
"How did it happen?"
The question may have been insensitive, but he wanted an honest reaction
from him.
Cloud smiled tightly, "Have you read Hojo's notes on the
effects of Jenova on childbirth?" he asked.
Vincent shook his head.
"We spent nearly two decades together, you know?" Cloud said,
"I had to find out why it happened… the Shinra mansion seemed a nice place to
start." A bitter twist on nice.
"We…?" The way Cloud had said it sounded like he meant Cloud
and Vincent, not Cloud and Tifa.
"I sat outside your room, researching, thinking…
atoning. It was my fault, in a
way. Hojo's alterations to me were
passed through me into my child. Tifa
went into labour early, but the baby was already full size and more… she was
ripped apart as it was born… and it… she
just lay there, lifeless. I lost them
both in the same day."
Vincent felt the tear grow, and slip down his face. A tiny droplet for Tifa, for the child, and
for Cloud, all three of them were dead.
"Cloud," He walked forward and wrapped his arms around the smaller
man. Cloud stood stiff and unyielding
in his embrace. "I love you," he said
into his ear, his inhibitions could not stand in the face of Cloud's inhuman
indifference. He had recited the entire
tragedy in a calm, detached voice, unfeeling, dead.
"Thank you, " he said, "but your pity is unnecessary. They have been dead for over 20 years, I've
dealt with it."
Vincent sighed and hugged Cloud closer to him. He had once been this young man only instead
of retreating behind a wall of detachment he had retreated behind a barricade
of guilt.
"It's not pity," he said, "It's understanding… and
honesty." He didn't expect Cloud to
believe him, and was unsurprised by the derisive snort.
"I will live forever," Cloud said, "or near to it." Still the cold, dead tone, it was as if
nothing affected him. "I read that in
Hojo's notes too. I am indestructible,
invincible and immortal. I will spend
eternity alive, watching things fall away, piece by piece." Only
the Planet can destroy me, for I am part of it.
He still stood, stiff and straight in Vincent's arms,
unmoving, uncaring. "I have died once
already," Vincent revealed, "and I too cannot be killed by ordinary means."
"An eternity of regret… of pain." Cloud said, there was something in his voice, a hint of despair
that Vincent clung to, despair could be twisted into hope.
"But not an eternity alone," he said quietly. It was a beginning.
~ Continued
some day ~
~ Dedicated
to MSN Messenger ~
