~ * ~
After the battle with Sephiroth,
it was hard to just live. Tifa and Barret returned to Midgar, Marlene
needed him and Tifa just drifted back into her job as a bar maid... in new
premises, of course. Yuffie went back
to Wutai, determined to bring it forward as a city in it's own right – not just
a tourist resort. Nanaki returned to
Cosmo Canyon to follow in Bugenhagan's footsteps as their leader and
protector. Cid returned to make a go of
it with Shera, as far as I know they're still together. It took them a good long while to move
forward, Shera was eager to put the past behind them but Cid felt too guilty...
and guilt isn't the strongest basis for a relationship. They worked it out though.
All that left was Vincent and
I. The two loners with PASTS. Shinra experiments… Shinra failures. I had nowhere to go, nothing left to
do. Destroying Shinra, defeating
Sephiroth was my life and when I achieved that, I had nothing. Vincent didn't seem to care; he was
determined to return to the Shinra mansion to resume his penance. It was then that I realised that what I felt
for him wasn't friendship, or mere liking… I loved him.
I didn't tell him then, I wasn't
used to the idea myself. So I decided
to accompany him back to Nibelheim. To see the old town, to bury my own
ghosts. I too, had sins of omission
that I needed to atone for, not least of which was allowing Sephiroth's
insanity to go unchecked. My rational self tells me there is nothing I could
have done. I was just a lowly soldier…
it was Zack who let him read about Jenova, Zack who watched him deteriorate
into insanity in the depths of the Shinra mansion. But Zack is dead… and I
carry his memories and his guilt.
Neither of us are overly talkative
people. With deep thoughts and
depressing memories on our minds, we became even less so. The journey was long, but I only remember
bits of it. A few remarks people made
about Meteor, scenes that flashed by out the train window, shared silences that
spoke more than words.
We arrived in Nibelheim bowed
under the weights of our sins. Vincent
spoke for the first time in what seemed an age.
"I will return to my
imprisonment."
It wasn't a question or an
invitation. But I took it as one. I didn't want him to lock himself away
again. My own guilt I could bear, but I
felt his guilt too. If I had stopped
Sephiroth, he wouldn't have to bear that added burden. The burden of knowing he allowed him to be
created. The burden of helping to
destroy him.
We continued our journey through
my 'home town'. I found it disturbing
to be back in the place where so much death had happened. I knew that this place wasn't real, but
still Zack's memories arose in my mind.
Choking smoke, and leaping
flames. The stench of charred flesh and
the screams of people dying. And amidst
it, proud and beautiful: Sephiroth.
Standing among the burning buildings and hungry flames. Son of Jenova… son of Lucrecia.
Vincent seemed impervious to my
distraction. He made his dignified way
through the recreated town. Stopping
only when he reached the gate to the mansion.
"Go back now. There is nothing for you here."
A last ditch effort on his
behalf. Whether he wanted to be alone
or whether he was trying to save me, I don't know. But I wanted to be with him, and I wanted to be numb.
"This is where Sephiroth truly
died," I told him quietly. He knew the
story of course. The team had filled
him in on my past when he'd first joined us.
But he didn't know the impact it had on me. I could have told him on the journey over, but we'd both been
thinking of other things. Other people,
other times, other sins.
He nodded and opened the
gate. He understood my confusion, my
pain. He too, knew what it is to be
without hope, without a future. With
only a past you want to forget and a purpose that had already been
fulfilled. There is nothing left for me
in the world. Nothing but Vincent, and
the sins I bear for Zack and myself.
The sins I bear for the Planet
The walk to the basement was
undertaken in silence. But it was a
comfortable silence, like one between old friends or family. Neither of us felt compelled to fill it with
meaningless words, or thoughtless comments.
We reached the basement and he
made for the small room where he'd been sleeping all those years. I almost followed him, but instead walked
towards the library. There I could
discover more about the experiment done on me… and on how Sephiroth was
created.
A pause in his steady movement
halted me.
"Stay with me awhile?"
The question shocked me. Why
would Vincent want me to be there?
My confusion must have shown on my face for he began to elucidate.
"I feel it is necessary to share
my burden."
I nodded, of course. I wanted to be near him, and I wanted to
hear his story for myself. All I knew
of Vincent was from a few cryptic statements and a half-remembered conversation
between him and Lucrecia, and of course his argument with Hojo.
He told me his tale. Of Lucrecia and Sephiroth, Hojo and
Gast. Everything. Some of it I already knew, some of it I had
guessed. Most of it was new to me. At the end of it all I loved him even
more. He told the story clearly and
concisely, neither over nor under playing his part but every word and each
minute gesture betrayed his feeling of guilt and betrayal. But he blamed himself.
Lucrecia had been ambitious and
weak, I doubt she ever loved him. But he didn't see it that way. In his eyes she was beautiful and
perfect. Hojo had manipulated her and
he had watched it happen and done nothing because he felt hurt. He had betrayed her by allowing Sephiroth to
be born, by allowing Hojo to raise the child, but most of all for abandoning
her.
He was wrong. It was obvious to me and everyone else that
Vincent couldn't have done anything more.
If he had tried, Hojo would simply have had him arrested or
demoted. Turks – even good ones – were
easy come, easy go. Scientists on the
other hand were special.
I didn't say this to him
then. He wouldn't believe me, and would
probably despise me for not understanding.
Instead I told him my own tale.
Well, Zack's and mine. He
probably knew most, if not all of it already.
But he'd never heard it from me.
In the wake of our shared sorrows,
our shared shame, there was silence. It
seemed right to make my confession.
"Vincent, I…"
Though the moment was ready, the
words wouldn't come. I couldn't say
them. I opened my mouth then closed
it. His face was softened by the dim
light. His hair partially shadowed his
features but I could see a slight smile.
He understands… maybe he even
feels the same… Smiles were not
familiar on his face, it made him appear kinder… more welcoming. Vincent was never cruel but he seldom
welcomed contact with others. He was
solitary, stoic, silent and alone. No
matter how much he spoke, he never said more than was absolutely necessary.
Until now. Perhaps this new desire to share was because
of some affection for me? I had to act now, before he left me again,
before he disappeared back into his coffin.
I knew that I couldn't just tell
him… I couldn't speak, my throat was dry, the words thumped in my mind. Pleading to be said. I love.. love… you.. I love you.
Perhaps I could show him. We were standing so close, it took so little
to close the gaps between us, to just lean forward and capture his lips with my
own. Heaven. His warmth. He looks so
cold, so pale and almost lifeless. But
his skin… so warm and alive, his lips so soft and welcoming. My hands reach up to tangle in his silky,
satin hair. Then I realize that he
isn't welcoming me. His own hands are
taut against his sides. His mouth
remains firmly closed, there is no answering pressure against mine.
I pull back and look at his
face. Disgust and shame? war in his eyes.
Disgust wins, and for the first time I see what Tifa meant. The beautiful collage of red is just one
color, one shade, one depth. Blood.
"I'm sorry… I lo… I love you."
"I cannot love you."
Not 'I do not'… Confusion reigns
once more on my face. Words come easily
to my lips now.
"Why? I can love you despite
my failings… we are so much alike.. you understand me!" My protests are heartfelt. Though he hasn't moved, I can feel him
drifting away from me. Distaste and
pity mingle on his face. I patiently
wait for his answer.
He looks ready to speak,
twice. His words stop before they are
spoken aloud. Confusion makes its home
in his eyes. Finally he begins to speak. His words drilling holes in my heart.
"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."
The words cut me. He
will never love me… he hates me.
Same-sex relationships are not uncommon in this day and age. Most churches still frown upon them, but the
public is generally accepting. Abruptly
understanding dawns. When Vincent was
growing up, homosexuals were not even publicly acknowledged. Probably anyone who confessed to having
feelings for someone of the same sex was carted off to a mental institution.
It doesn't make it any easier to
accept, but at least now I understand.
I apologize again and leave.
What is left for me there?
I can do
penance anywhere… but I am adding to Vincent's burden by being there. He doesn't return my feelings and to him I
am disgusting and disturbing. I hope he
can find solace in sleep, hope in dreams.
I loved…
and I have lost. I like to think that
Vincent will one day have paid enough penance, that his atonement's will equal
his sins. Lucrecia will live long
enough to see him again, the Mako within her will ensure that... then perhaps
they can be together… and he can be happy.
I
suppose I will return to Tifa. It may
be cruel to use her as a substitute, but now I know how she feels. What it's like to love someone and not have
that love returned. I don't love her
but I can make her happy. Perhaps that
will be my atonement.
~ * ~
After
he leaves, I just stand there for awhile.
Has another sin been added to my conscience? It was him that kissed me… but I didn't stop him. And somehow I didn't hate the feel of him
against me. His lips... his touch
didn't disgust me like it should have.
He saw something in my face when I didn't respond. He thought it was directed at him. But my disgust, my shame was for me, for my
weakness, my pleasure.
I
told him the truth. I cannot love
him. I will not love him.
~ Continued in Facing Eternity ~
~ Dedicated to woolly-hats with pompoms ~
