Faded Dreams, Falling Like Rain
A Final Fantasy VII Fan Fiction by Sarah Digna Yudlowitz
Dream . . .
Dream of death . . .
Dream of moonlight . . .
Legal Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all of its characters belong to the company of Squaresoft. I do not claim these
characters or the concept of the game for my own. This work is not to be distributed, sold, or posted anywhere without the
consent of its author. Comments and encouragements are always welcomed, as they are a part of the enjoyment of writing
Fan fiction. Please take this into consideration while you read the following fiction.
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The Author's Note: It's 5 o' clock in the morning . . . I have not been asleep, and I'm hunnngry. Here's another chapter sort
of in Vincent's eyes.
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Chapter Twenty-one
"What you guys need, is a damn good hardass drink, ya know?" Cid laughed. Looking
over Vincent's rigid standing position, Cid laughed insanely, "And Vinny needs a good hard long
fuck to make up for his slumber!" Cloud's eyes widened at that, and he immediately jumped
forward to knock the drunken Highwind upside the head. Vincent, used to Cid's crude and
insensitive language, did little else but blink. Behind the pilot, Barret was laughing so hard that
he was winded. Vincent hadn't thought of that kind of pleasure since he had awoken. He had
forgotten how it felt, in fact. Lilith hadn't needed to explain herself in such elaboration to the two
men, since they were piss drunk, and in a cheerful mood. Vincent had stayed there until Cloud
waved him back and told him to spend time with his daughter.
"Disgusting, isn't it?" Vincent said as he sat across from Lilith on a crate inside the large
tent. Lilith arched one fine brow and laughed, her shoulders shaking with the effort.
"I thought Hojo was crude!" Lilith said through her mirth. He thought this laugh truly
Sephiroth-like, especially since he had asked a rhetoric, and inane question. With Sephiroth, it
was as if you had just asked him what two oranges plus two apples equaled. That had always
slightly intimidated Vincent, even when Sephiroth was very little. But with Lilith, it rather
intrigued him. And she was right about Hojo being crude, but if he was talkative enough to
debate, Vincent would have to disagree. The very thought of Hojo made him angry. It calmed
him down considerably to know that he had been the one to shoot his Jenova-fevered face down.
He needed to be dragged away from him, in fact. Vincent had stared down at his dead face and
kept shooting until he had no bullets, and Hojo's brain matter was spread across the ground and
Vincent's gold-tipped shoes. "Coward," he remembered he had hissed. Cloud had scolded him
for the letting his anger get the better of him, while Tifa stared in absolute horror. "I wonder
what Cloud's going to do?"
"Probably further encourage them. The boy's got a knack for not being able to deal with
Cid Highwind, and Barret Wallace has never really liked him. Leadership issues, I suppose. They
were a little peeved that the shortest, most unstable, and most frail-looking of the male humans
was picked as their leader when I awoke from my slumber and reluctantly joined them."
"Nibelheim," was all that Lilith said.
"Yes. You were born there. Lucrecia was buried there."
"Hometown," Lilith whispered.
" . . . Yes. In a way, it is a home, isn't it?"
"I had assumed I was born on the plate," Lilith responded.
"I'm sorry I never told you about any of this."
"You don't need to keep apologizing," Lilith sighed. Vincent blinked slowly. He hadn't
even noticed that he had been doing a lot of apologizing. He mentally scolded himself. It was
why he usually kept quiet. "I've never . . . seen Nibelheim. At least, not that I remember. I wasn't
in SOLDIER, like Sephiroth," Lilith said a little bitterly. " When I was old enough to enter, I
requested to go to President Shinra, and I was denied that right. He told me that I had my place
in Shinra."
"How did you . . . end up in the slums?" Vincent asked curiously.
"I escaped," Lilith responded, a sly smile twisting her thin lips. "I think I got that from
you."
"Perhaps. A sniper relies on stealth and accuracy."
"Would you take me to Nibelheim one day, Vin--Father?" Lilith said quickly. Vincent's
eyes widened. "Are you . . . uncomfortable with me calling me that?"
"I. . .don't know. Should it make me uncomfortable? And yes, I'll take you there one day.
Cloud is from there himself." Vincent gave a rare smile, undeniably happy that she had accepted
him.
"Good," Lilith said smugly.
"Huh," Vincent muttered unintelligibly as he looked over at Barret, Cloud, and Cid
engaged in a conversation.
"Hey! Come here, guys!" Cloud called to the two Snipers. Lilith stood and looked back at
Vincent, who gave her a look expectantly.
"Come on. Could it hurt that much?"
" . . . Yes," Vincent said, deadpan. Lilith laughed, surprisingly with mirth.
"Are you sure?" she chided.
"Quite." The reply was still deadpan. Lilith laughed more. It lit her face up nicely,
Vincent noted. She looked so much like Lucrecia when she laughed. Were these feelings of
pride? Yes, they were. Vincent found himself smiling again.
"Oh, come on," Lilith held out a long-fingered hand. Vincent took it and stood, and they
walked over to the table that the three were sitting at.
"North Corel's been a wreck since Holy and Meteor," Barret stated simply. "The people
here were reluctant to let us in, but they were obliged to let us stay, since they heard about our
heroics."
"Yes. I did notice the awe in their eyes as we passed," Vincent said. Cloud nodded
gravely. The boy didn't take to such awe well, he noticed. He dully noted that Sephiroth was his
childehood idol and was amused, to say the least. How long would Cloud be known as "The Man
Who Had Killed the Greatest Soldier That Ever Lived"? Vincent's lips curled upward slightly.
"Hey, Vince, want anything to drink? Seriously, sorry for before." The sincerity in which
Cid spoke piqued Vincent's curiosity. But he did not like nicknames. He let it alone, though, and
shrugged, forcing himself to be casual. In a way, Cid was caring. In his own way, of course,
because what he's said earlier was very crude. Even though Cid was rather insensitive to
everyone, he was a little bit more sensitive to Vincent, which confused him a little. Why would
Cid care about him? Because he's your friend, Vincent scolded himself. Just as Vincent was
about to accept the offer (alcohol sounded curiously good right about now), the tent's cover
shifted and a woman stepped in. She was short and mousy, with dark brown hair pulled into a
single ponytail. Her face was very plain, and her large blue eyes were behind thick black glasses.
"Oh, it looks like we have some company," she said in a high tone, excitedly. Cid hit the
table with the flat of his palm, suddenly not too interested in Vincent.
"Damn straight, Shera! Get this gentleman something alcoholic to drink," he shot, waving
his hand in Vincent's direction. Vincent grimaced as the woman jumped.
"That won't be necessary, Cid," Vincent's voice snapped in a stone cold tone. Suddenly
the thought of alcohol made his stomach turn. Cid shot Vincent a look, but let it alone, only after
hitting the table and again and uttering "shit" in a gruff, gravelly voice.
