They arrived at the isolated little town after a lengthy ride from North Corel in one of Shinra's trucks. Vincent and the Shinra trooper accompanying them for the trip had taken turns driving, and both were tired, more so than the three scientists whom they were escorting. The Turk was certain, however, that they all felt the same relief as they climbed out of the truck and stood in the sunlight, despite the town's unwelcoming appearance.
A certain hushed anticipation permeated the village, as though all the townspeople had disappeared inside their homes to watch the strange visitors from behind the safety of their curtained windows. Indeed the streets were empty save for a tiny grey cat, which slunk quickly away to hide under an old truck in someone's yard. A tall wooden well stood in the town's center, and the path beyond led up to and past the incongruous mansion at the foot of the mountains. The sun hung just above the peaks of the Nibel range in the west, and its light sent grey shadows stretching across the worn cobblestone pavement.
Just before them, a tall yet simple arch marked the entrance to Nibelheim.
Vincent turned back, intending to retrieve some of the luggage from the truck and carry it then to the mansion, but Professor Gast waved a hand at him.
"Let's get acquainted with the mansion first," he suggested. "We can bring our bags in later."
The Turk nodded, appreciative both for the gesture and the fact that Gast was not treating him as a subordinate, which technically he was. Unlike Hojo, Professor Gast was not the kind of man who really gave orders; rather, if he wanted something done, he suggested it in such a good-natured and reasonable way that one felt compelled to agree to it.
Not that Vincent knew the Professor very well, but he had gathered as much on the way to this place. Gast's very appearance spoke volumes about him. He had a very gentle, almost fatherly manner about him, easily discernible in his hazel eyes and in the tone of his voice.
He was certainly a sharp contrast to Hojo, who appeared perpetually disgruntled and spoke harshly, frequently snapping. Part of this, Vincent conceded, may have been due to his presence; it was obvious that Hojo despised Turks, and Vincent was certainly no exception.
The three scientists started down the main street, passing under the archway and into Nibelheim. Lucrecia glanced back at Vincent over her shoulder to cast a smile his way and encourage him to follow. He started after her, walking with them to the mansion at the far end of the street, tucked back by the roots of the mountain. Gast paused there, needing a moment to open the gate, and the three scientists soon entered the yard.
Vincent hung back with an inexplicable reluctance, turning to look up at the clear sky as though searching for some sort of omen. At length he shook his head and followed the others inside.
They spent a good half an hour exploring the mansion, from the kitchen and the piano room on the first floor to the bedrooms and the greenhouse on the second. One of the bedrooms, a dead-end at first glance, turned out to hold a door cleverly worked into the far wall. This semi-hidden door opened into a spiral staircase that led down to the basement, which housed the library and the mansion's most important room, the laboratory.
The tour ended there, the scientists quickly losing themselves in their new laboratory, carefully inspecting every aspect of it to make certain that it was to their satisfaction. Vincent found the place a bit disconcerting, considering the dark stone out of which the room had been carved and the two green-tinted cylindrical chambers in one corner of the room, large enough to hold people. The lighting was very bright and yet at the same time it failed to illuminate the entire room, so that inscrutable shadow lingered in its corners.
After some long minutes of standing ignored in the doorway, Vincent decided that now was a good time to retrieve the luggage from the truck, so he left the scientists to their exploration and made his way back out of the mansion.
They spent the rest of the day getting settled in, unpacking their things and buying from the nearby general store anything that they lacked, namely food. The shopkeeper was visibly uneasy to find himself dealing with people from Shinra, and though Vincent doubted he knew anything of the Turks, the man's gaze kept flicking nervously his way. Apparently he did not need a reputation to appear intimidating.
There were only two real bedrooms in the mansion, one with two beds, the other with one, and it was obvious whose they were. Hojo and Gast took one, Lucrecia the other, and Vincent did not voice any protests. He exchanged glances with the soldier who would be leaving in the morning and they opted to use the chairs in one of the upstairs rooms.
Before turning in himself, Vincent went to Lucrecia's room and knocked on the door with only the slightest of hesitations. In the month preceding this journey to Nibelheim, he had had numerous chances to speak with her, and they had become friends. This was new to Vincent, who had always had difficulty relating to people and had never really had any friends. Lucrecia, however, did not seem to mind his awkward mannerisms and confessed that she liked having someone she could talk to.
"Come in," Lucrecia called from inside.
He opened the door and took a step into the room.
She turned from where she stood putting away the last of her things and smiled. "Oh, it's you, Vincent," she said, sounding pleasantly surprised. "Is there something you wanted?"
He shook his head. "No, I just wanted to see if you were settled in all right."
"Yes, mostly," she replied, looking around her new bedroom. "Although... I won't have much privacy in here, what with the door to the basement right there. We'll be back and forth through here all the time."
"If that bothers you, we could move the bed into the other room tomorrow."
"No, no, it's all right. I won't really mind as long as everyone remembers to knock." She hesitated as something occurred to her. "You don't have a place to sleep, do you?"
Vincent only shrugged.
Lucrecia sighed in annoyance. "Shinra knew how many of us were coming here. They should have made sure we had the proper accommodations."
"It's really not a problem," he assured her.
"You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor," she insisted, frowning.
"Don't worry about it; I don't mind."
Her expression softened and she shook her head. "Vincent... you should mind. But I guess there's not much we can do about it now. Unless you'll take a pillow; I don't need mine."
"I didn't come here to ask you for a pillow."
"Then what did you come here for?" she asked with an amused smile.
"I already told you."
"Oh... Well, as you can see, I'm settled in just fine," Lucrecia told him, her smile fading. "Now, we both ought to get some rest since we're going out to the reactor tomorrow."
Vincent nodded. "Right. Well, goodnight, Lucrecia."
"Goodnight, Vincent."
He stepped back out of her room and closed the door behind him. He stood there for a moment, frowning at his inability to say what was on his mind. Of course, he wasn't certain what was on his mind anyway; it was only a feeling that he did not have any words for, and the sight of her stilled any attempts to express it. Disappointed with himself, Vincent went back to his own room and fell asleep in a chair.
Vincent collapsed gratefully into one of the chairs by the window and closed his eyes for a moment. The journey to the reactor in Mount Nibel, coupled with how badly he had slept the night before, had drained most of his energy, and now he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Lucrecia had noticed, and she had all but ordered him to find himself better accommodations. He had settled for purchasing a mattress and some bedding, which he had set up on the floor. It was good enough for him, and actually brought back memories of his early childhood in Wutai.
He opened his eyes, glancing briefly out the window, and hauled himself out of the chair, deciding to change out of his uniform and get some well-needed sleep.
A knock sounded on his door, however, catching him in the process of removing his tie. "Yes?" he called.
"Can I come in?" came Lucrecia's voice.
He strode to the door and opened it to find her standing outside, still fully dressed and wearing her shoes. "What is it?" he asked.
For a moment she only blinked at him, and he realized that she had only ever seen him in full uniform. Then she shook herself and said, "I know it's been a long day, but would you mind stepping outside for a minute?"
"Outside?" Why go outside at this time of night? he wondered.
She faltered, not seeming to know how to explain herself.
"All right," he agreed upon seeing her discomfort. Her face lit up, and despite his fatigue he found himself suddenly eager to go with her. He took a moment to put his shoes and jacket back on, and then the two of them went downstairs and out of the mansion.
Lucrecia reached for his hand and took it hesitantly, glancing up at him for reassurance. Surprised though he was, he managed a slight smile, and her grip tightened as she led him down the street.
They stopped once they passed through the town's gate, and Lucrecia's eyes travelled upward. Vincent followed her gaze to the sky and stood dumbstruck to find it strewn with stars, as though someone had spilled tiny diamonds across a sheet of black velvet. He had forgotten how beautiful the night sky could be; he had become all too used to Midgar's green haze and rarely bothered to look up anymore.
At length he looked back at Lucrecia, finding her gaze already on him.
"I just had to share this with someone," she said. "It's almost overwhelming when you're alone with this sky above you."
Vincent nodded but did not reply. What did one say to that sort of thing? He could not seem to think. Lucrecia was there before him with her beautiful face cast in starlight and her blue-green eyes looking back at him. He let go her hand to touch that face as if to assure himself that it was real, and then he bent down to kiss her, bringing her closer with his other hand.
Only after he at last pulled away did he realize what he had done, and he felt a sudden pang of anxiety. But, he told himself, she had responded in kind, and now she was smiling at him. He pulled her back into his arms, and they stood together in that embrace for a long time.
Eventually Lucrecia stirred. "We should be getting back," she whispered reluctantly.
Vincent let her go, and they stepped back from each other, though neither wanted to.
"I'd love to stay out here," she said, "but..."
"I understand," Vincent interrupted before she could finish. He did not want too many words to break this spell, and she seemed to feel the same, for she smiled and turned silently for the mansion, her hand slipping back into his.
When he retired to bed that night, he slept deeply and dreamt only of her.
They had been in Nibelheim for a week shy of one month when the first good snow of the season fell upon the town. It was mid-December, and any villager would tell them that that was uncharacteristically late for this place. Already six inches carpeted the streets and houses, though by now it was early afternoon and the snowfall had lightened considerably. Lucrecia had been delighted to learn of the snow, but during the morning she had been unable to get away from her work.
Now Vincent stood waiting near the front door while Lucrecia pulled on her heavy gear. When she was ready, they went outside together and trudged slowly through the snow, remarking on how beautiful the blanket of white had made the village. They stopped at the well in the center of town, and Lucrecia took a moment to clear away some of the snow so that she could sit atop the well. It had become one of her preferred spots, largely because only then was she able to look down on Vincent, rather than up at him.
Vincent leaned against the well, taking in the perfect calm that the snow had brought to Nibelheim.
"You know, Vincent, I've been thinking," Lucrecia said, her voice chiming like bells in the crisp air. "I always talk so much, you hardly ever get the chance to say anything." She waited for Vincent to meet her gaze and then added, "I don't really know much about you, it seems. Did you always live in Midgar? When did you join Shinra? And what about your family?"
He looked away, focusing again on the village. "My father used to work for Shinra in its early days, and my mother was Wutain."
"I thought you looked Wutain," Lucrecia remarked. "I suppose you look like your mother, right? Was she pretty?"
Vincent shook his head. "I don't remember; she died when I was still young."
"Oh. I'm sorry." There was a pause, and then she said, "She must have been, unless you got your looks from your father."
"I don't think so," he managed.
"Well, go on. What was your father like then?"
"'Distant' is really the only word that comes to mind. We moved to Midgar after my mother died, and he always worked late. I suppose neither of us were very good at relating to people. We were never close, and he died when I was fourteen."
"How did he die?" Lucrecia asked, sounding both surprised and sympathetic.
"I don't know. No one ever told me the details." He considered saying more, but decided against it. Even if he was talking to Lucrecia, he did not like to say much about himself. He would give her what she asked for, but not much more.
"Did you have any other relatives that you could live with?"
"No," he answered, "or at least, none in Midgar."
"So what happened to you?"
"I spent a few years in an orphanage until they decided I was capable of taking care of myself. After that, I was on the streets for a while. Eventually, I managed to sign up with Shinra's army." He shook his head slightly. "After that, there really isn't much to say."
"It sounds like you had a rough time," Lucrecia said. "I can't imagine growing up alone in Midgar, of all places. I had enough trouble even with both my parents to support me."
Vincent only shrugged.
"How old are you now?" she asked suddenly. "I don't think you've told me."
"Twenty-six, as of October."
"October? Why didn't you say anything? I would've gotten you something."
He glanced at her curiously. "It was the thirteenth; I didn't even know your name then. Besides, my birthday has never been very important."
"Maybe not," she conceded, "but I think it's nice to have a special day for yourself each year. It might as well be your birthday."
"Yours is May seventh, right?" Vincent asked, deciding that if she thought it was important, he ought to remember.
She nodded, though she seemed surprised. "Whenever did I tell you?" She shook her head dismissively. "I guess it just shows that you listen well. I'm always worried I might be boring you."
"Quite the contrary," he said, "I love to hear you talk about yourself."
Lucrecia smiled sheepishly. "Am I really that interesting?"
"Very much so."
"I'm glad. I tend to get carried away sometimes."
"I don't mind."
Her smile broadened, and she hopped down from the well. "I love that about you, that you're always so willing to listen. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you to talk to."
He smiled back at her, not voicing any of his thoughts. What about Hojo? He had seen her talking to him numerous times, and not while they were working. Did she not speak with him as freely as she did with Vincent? Or was she keeping something from him?
"Now," Lucrecia said decisively before he could get caught up in his worries, "we can't let all this snow go to waste."
"What do you mean?" he wondered.
"Don't tell me you've never played in the snow before," she said incredulously.
He shook his head.
"You really missed out," she told him, shaking her head. "I guess we'll just have to remedy that, won't we?" With that, she scooped up a handful of snow from the well, threw it at him playfully, and turned to run.
Vincent recovered quickly from his surprise and went chasing after her. The ensuing snowball fight lasted for several minutes before at last Vincent caught her up from behind, grabbing her about the waist. She put up enough of a struggle to throw him off-balance, and the two of them fell together into the snow. Lucrecia lay on top of him giggling for a moment before she picked herself up and offered him her hand as he sat up.
Taking it, Vincent pulled her back down and kissed her. They sat there together in the snow for a long moment, until Lucrecia shivered slightly and Vincent pulled back to look at her.
"Are you getting cold?" he asked. "Perhaps we ought to go inside."
She nodded silently, he helped her to her feet, and they walked back along the snow-laden street to the mansion.
"How about some hot chocolate?" Lucrecia asked as they were taking off their coats and boots.
"Sure," he replied, knowing that she did not like it when he responded indifferently.
She went off to the kitchen, and Vincent followed at a slower pace, staying just at the doorway to make certain he didn't get in her way. After a couple minutes, she handed him a mug and they both sat down at the kitchen table to let the drinks warm their hands.
"You know, you've never said a word to me about your job," Lucrecia remarked cautiously.
"Hm?"
"What it's like to be a Turk, I mean."
"I think that you'd prefer not to know," he told her, briefly meeting her gaze.
She shook her head. "I'd rather have something more to go on than the nasty rumors you hear about Turks. After meeting you... Well, it can't be as bad as they say it is."
He looked down into his mug. "Much of what they say is true," he said. "We are involved in murder and kidnapping, whatever shady work Shinra deems necessary, most of which I am not at liberty to tell you about."
Lucrecia frowned thoughtfully. "But how do you live doing things like that?"
"Those of us promoted to the Turks can and do distance our emotions," he explained. "Yes, there is guilt, but it's simple enough to ignore it."
"Then how do you explain... us? You certainly haven't ignored your feelings for me."
Vincent turned to look at her. "I don't know why I was unable to bury these emotions with the others, but I am thankful for that failure. I love you, and I don't know what I would do if I had never met you."
"I know," was all she said, lessening the sting with her beautiful smile. Not once had she ever said 'I love you, too.' Not once. But he could not bring himself to criticize her for it; he could wait for her reply, couldn't he? And so all he did in response was return her smile.
It was snowing again, as it often had over the past month, and in most places it was too deep for all but the most ambitious to walk through. It had been some time since they had been able to pay a visit to the reactor where Jenova was kept, and they had even decided to give up on the town until the snow let up a bit. Lucrecia sat with Hojo by the window in the piano room, watching the snow fall and wishing she could be out in it again. The frequent snowfalls here made her feel like a child again.
Even she had to admit, however, that this was no weather to venture out into, so she contented herself with watching. Anyway, it was a rare enough occasion that she and Hojo had no pressing work to do. The Jenova Project kept all three scientists very busy, but for once their ambitions had been thwarted by the snowstorm, and until they could get out of the mansion again, they would have a lot of free time on their hands.
Which was fine with Lucrecia. She loved her work, but nevertheless it was tiring, and it gave her the opportunity to really talk with Hojo as she had not done in some time.
"So what made you want to become a scientist?" she asked him. She realized that it must have seemed very abrupt, but she had been wondering lately.
Hojo turned from the window to look at her, his normally harsh expression softening as he met her gaze. "I suppose I've always been interested in how we came to exist here... Or, rather, how we could use that knowledge to better ourselves."
"That's why you wanted to be included in the Jenova Project, isn't it?"
"Yes, exactly. We have come a long way since the time of the Ancients, but we lost a great many things along the way. Things that could prove very helpful to us if we were to rediscover them now."
Lucrecia nodded. "I've always thought that way, too. The Ancients were supposedly great healers, and they were so much more in tune with the planet's workings than we are now. We could help a lot of people, and go much farther with science, if we could find a way to bring those back. The how of it is where we run into trouble..."
"It's really a question of genetics," Hojo said. "It seems that there's too much damage to the Jenova specimen to clone it, but if we could use its cells to modify humans... Well, that might be possible."
"Do we really have the technology to perform such an experiment safely?" she wondered, tapping her forefinger against her lip.
"There is risk in any experiment," he said dismissively. "The real obstacle is getting permission from the company."
"Have you already run it past Professor Gast then?"
Hojo nodded. "He and I were discussing the problem earlier. He seems to think it very safe; considering that we are descended from the Ancients, their genetic structure can't be much different from our own."
"I suppose we'll manage to convince the company eventually. Then it's only a question of finding a guinea pig for the experiment, and I doubt there will be many willing to do it."
"We'll figure something out."
"You're right," she agreed. She turned to watch the falling snow, which showed no signs of letting up. "How much longer do you think it's going to keep snowing?"
Hojo shook his head, frowning. "It's the dead of winter; it could last for days, at this rate."
"Well, at least we get something of a break," Lucrecia pointed out, though she knew Hojo tended to prefer his work to his so-called leisure time. "It should give us time to think about where we're going with the Jenova Project, too."
"We know where we're going," he stated. "It's getting there that needs thinking about."
It was a warm day--at least, comparatively so--in late February, and the sun had set out this day to melt the accumulated snow. By now it had nearly reached its peak in the sky, and the brown tips of buried grass were beginning to poke through the snow. With the trees still bare and the air still chilly, spring was obviously still a ways off, but nevertheless those in Nibelheim were enjoying the rare sunny day.
Vincent had decided that this was as good a day as any, and so he had told Lucrecia that he had something important to say. Now the two of them were walking hand-in-hand through the melting snow out to the gate of Nibelheim where they had first kissed.
He turned to her, taking up her other hand, and for a moment he could only stand in silence, searching her face as if for some sign that he was right to ask her this. She offered him a smile, and so he began quietly, "I've been thinking a lot recently, about us and where this is going. I know that I love you, Lucrecia, and that's not going to change, so I want to ask you... Will you marry me?"
Her smile faltered then, and she dropped her gaze. At once he knew that he should not have asked, and his grip on her hands loosened. He tried not to let his disappointment show--he did not want her to feel guilty for refusing him--but he could not help it.
"I... I'm sorry," she stammered, breaking away and hurrying past him out of Nibelheim.
He nearly called out after her, but how could he offer her comfort when she did not want him? So he turned dejectedly back into town, meandering its few streets without purpose or direction. He supposed that she did not love him. He had thought that he had felt it in the way she behaved around him, but she had never said it, so he must have been wrong. Why then, had she allowed him to touch her that way? Had she thought it harmless, a shallow love affair that she could enjoy but that would not endure? Or was she simply not ready for this?
At length he decided that he had best go look for her, so he set out at first from Nibelheim to search the plains a ways. She could not have gone too far, he thought, for that would have been irrational. It was also possible that she might have already returned to town without him noticing. When he did not find her, he turned to go back to Nibelheim.
And there, at the gates, he saw her in Hojo's arms. Her face was buried in his chest, and he held her close, stroking her hair and whispering words of some comfort to her. Neither of them noticed him.
Vincent turned away. So, that was it; she preferred Hojo to him. She had just never had the heart to tell him otherwise. It hurt, knowing that she loved Hojo, not him. Hojo did not seem like the sort of man who would treat her the way she deserved, but he had to admit that he did not know the man very well, and anyway, he himself was a Turk. It wasn't as though he deserved her, murderer that he was. So he took the pain and shoved it into an isolated corner of his heart. If she is happy, he told himself, then... I don't mind.
"We've just received word from the President," came Hojo's voice from the doorway to their now-shared bedroom. "He's approved the experiment."
"Oh?" Lucrecia murmured absently. Her thoughts were elsewhere. At the moment, she did not care about the experiment in the slightest. Ever since Vincent's proposal, things had not been the same between them. He had kept his distance from her, and to fill that painful gap she had turned to Hojo, and...
"Is something wrong?" Hojo asked, lifting her chin so that she had to meet his gaze.
"No, nothing's wrong," she lied. "I'm fine."
He continued to study her face, not satisfied with such an answer. "That Turk, Vincent--he's not bothering you, is he?"
She shook her head, pushing his hand away. "No, no, he's not. I told you, there's nothing wrong."
Although he was still visibly doubtful, Hojo did no more than frown. "As we've discussed before," he went on, "the Project requires a guinea pig."
"We'll figure something out, just as you said," Lucrecia said, purposefully ignoring the suggestion in his tone.
He glanced at her over his shoulder. "I had thought that perhaps you could..."
Her gaze dropped to the silver wedding band on her finger. "I see."
"It's your choice, of course," he said quickly. "I only thought that you would be the ideal choice, considering your extensive knowledge and understanding of the Project."
"I'll think about it," she answered quietly, though in her current state of mind she doubted she could endure much persuasion.
"This experiment is vital to our purpose; you've acknowledged as much yourself."
"I know," she said more forcefully, briefly meeting his gaze. "I just need some time to consider the dangers. No experiment is without risk; surely you remember who said that."
That silenced him for a moment. Then he said, "You don't have to worry about that, Lucrecia. You'll be well taken care of."
She nodded tiredly. "Give me a few days to think on it, that's all I ask."
"Fine."
Lucrecia knew--and Hojo had probably guessed as much--that it was not really the experiment itself that worried her. Rather, her concerns lay with how Vincent would react. Her hasty marriage to Hojo had already been too harsh a blow to him; if he learned that she had so devoted herself to the Jenova Project, what then? Or had he already resigned himself to losing her entirely?
The door was wide open, but Vincent could not bring himself to enter--she was in there. She was playing the piano, as she often did in her free time, but rarely was the melody so hauntingly beautiful as this. The despondent notes had drawn him to this hallway, and he had stopped just outside the room, remaining just out of her sight. He did not want to trouble her with his presence, but at the same time, he missed her terribly. He had barely spoken to her since her marriage to Hojo nearly two months ago.
When the song seemed to be drawing to a close, Vincent took a calming breath and turned into the room. He paused some paces away, watching her delicate fingers dance across the ivories until at last she reached the final note. Its memory lingered in the air as she turned to him, tricking the ear into thinking that it was yet audible.
Immediately he noticed that her usual warmth and spirit had gone from her eyes, leaving them twin pools of blue-green as hauntingly empty as the melody that she had just finished. Even Vincent began to doubt that he was the one doing her such harm.
She smiled at him--or, rather, she tried to, but her face seemed to have forgotten the expression.
"What was that song, Lucrecia?" he asked her, unable to voice the questions that really needed answering.
She shook her head slowly, and when she spoke her voice was hoarse, as though from suppressed tears. "I don't remember where I picked it up... It's been ages since I... last played it." She hesitated before adding, "It reminds me of you."
Vincent blinked. If that melody made her think of him, then she saw more than he had wanted her to. He would have to strengthen his resolve; he did not want her feeling sorry for him. Obviously she had enough troubles without him to add to them.
"What's wrong?" he managed quietly, moving closer to the piano. He doubted that he could help, but it pained him to see her like this.
She dropped her gaze as he came to stand beside her. "I... Vincent, I'm..." Her eyes glistened, and she swallowed hard in an attempt to fight back the unwanted tears. "I'm pregnant," she said finally, letting out a muffled sob. Rising to her feet, she pushed past him and hurried out of the piano room.
He stared after her, shocked and confused. She and Hojo were having a child? And, however much Vincent disliked it, shouldn't she have been happy about it? She had remarked often enough that she loved children, and he was certain that she would make a good mother.
Or was this his fault again? His presence was complicating things. He wished that he could tell her that it was all right, that he did not mind, but he knew that she would see through that lie in an instant. She knew him all too well.
Even so, she was not one to let such things upset her so strongly. Was there more to this, something that she had not told him?
He stood slowly and made his way down to the basement, knowing that if she was not in her room, then that was where she would be. It had become her refuge over the past few months, the one place that Vincent really had no business entering. But he needed to know what this was all about, so he let himself into the lab and looked around for Lucrecia.
She was there, as he had anticipated, but so was Hojo. He looked up sharply as Vincent entered, and Lucrecia, her eyes still red from crying, followed his gaze. Her gaze dropped when she saw who had caught Hojo's attention.
"What exactly is going on?" Vincent demanded. "Explain it to me."
Hojo glared at him, but he answered, "It's an experiment designed to test the reaction of human growth to Jenova cells."
"What?" He was too shocked to maintain his emotionless facade. "And you would do this to your own wife?"
"She volunteered; it was her choice," the scientist stated defensively. "Besides, we've been experimenting for months. There's very little danger involved."
Vincent shook his head forcefully. "I'm against it! Why experiments on humans?"
"She and I are both scientists!" Hojo declared, voice matching Vincent's in volume. Beside him, Lucrecia only stared at her hands, looking ashamed.
"Look at her!" the Turk exclaimed, gesturing forcefully with one hand. "Does she look at all happy with this experiment?"
At this Lucrecia raised her head. "Vincent, please--"
"It was her decision!" Hojo interrupted, striding across the room. "And it's no business of yours!" With that, he shoved Vincent out of the laboratory and slammed the door shut in his face.
Outside the wind shrilled tunelessly, hurling itself against the freezing windowpane. Snowflakes borne by the gusts battered feebly against the glass, some landing on the outer sill while others bounced away and fell onward with their kin. There was never any end to this snow, never anything beyond the formless white.
Lucrecia sat alone in her room, staring out the window, one pale hand resting on her swollen abdomen. She knew that she was in no condition to go out into such a blizzard, even briefly, but that did not really bother her. Nowadays the snow brought her only the memory of joy, and it was enough for her to merely observe it.
She shivered slightly, but did not bother to draw close the blanket that lay rumpled at her waist. This mansion was always cold during the winter, but she wasn't certain that the chill she felt was entirely physical. She had grown so distant from everyone; she could not recall the last time she had seen Vincent, and no matter how often she saw Hojo, she never felt that he noticed her anymore. For a long time, her thoughts had been her only company.
How long had it been since Vincent had proposed to her? By now it was late December. Ten months then, but she could still remember it with such clarity. She could recall the look in his brown eyes, more expressive than any she had seen in him before, and the emotion in his voice as he posed the question. He had been ready to open up to her.
But she had fled from his question, and since that day his face had frozen over again. He was colder now than he had been before they had met, she was sure, and that was her fault. To deal with his pain, the only thing he could do was seal it away.
She had made such a mistake in refusing him. She should have kept her calm and told him that she needed some time to think about it. That would have disappointed him some, but certainly it was a lesser blow than what her panic had made her do to him. The question had caught her so off-guard--though it should not have--that she had not known how to respond. Why hadn't she stayed and fumbled out a decent reply? Why hadn't she said yes? And why, oh why, had she run to Hojo, for whom her love was now dwindling?
She wished that she could see Vincent again. She wanted him to hold her in his arms as he once had. She had felt so secure in those arms. But at the same time she knew that seeing him now, after all these months, would only reopen old wounds for the both of them.
She wished, too, that Hojo would look at her as he used to. The kindness had gone from his eyes, and the touch of his hands was no longer gentle. As the months had gone by, he had begun treating her more and more brusquely until now she felt as though she were just another specimen to him. Was that all he saw when he looked at her now? Did her only value lay in the child growing inside of her? Would he simply forget her once it was born?
Of course, perhaps then it would not even matter. She could feel herself weakening, growing more fragile with each passing day. Perhaps she would regain her health after the baby was born, but more likely she would not survive the birth. At this point she doubted that she would mind dying. It would mean an end to this suffering, but that was a selfish way to look at it. Vincent, she knew, would be devastated, and what of her baby?
Lucrecia did not want her child to grow up without a mother, especially with Hojo for a father. With how callous he had become towards her, she worried that their child would endure the same treatment, or worse. And so, for her baby's sake, she would have to resist death's temptation. She could not let Hojo raise it on his own.
A soft knock on the door drew her reluctant attention. "Come in," she said, the faint quality of her own voice surprising her.
Professor Gast entered, concern plain on his features. "Do you mind if I sit down?" he asked, though it really was not necessary. At the shake of her head, he took a seat in the chair by her bed, leaning over briefly to pull the blanket up to her shoulders. A part of her welcomed the warmth, but she lost a part of her connection with the snow outside.
"I've been worried about you," Gast said. "You haven't been yourself for months. What's wrong?"
"I'm fine," she lied. "I just find myself tired much of the time."
"That can't be all there is to it. Is the Project worrying you?"
She shook her head.
"Is... Vincent bothering you?"
"Not at all," she replied, surprised at how steadily the words came out.
"Then please, tell me what's upsetting you."
"It's nothing you need worry yourself over, Professor."
He looked at her carefully for a moment, unconvinced, then nodded slowly and stood. "Just keep in mind that I can lend an ear if you need one." He faltered. "Although I suppose you have Hojo to talk to."
Lucrecia nodded slightly, and he left the room, managing at the very least to discern that she wanted to be alone with her thoughts. The man was brilliant, but he had never been very perceptive when it came to people.
With a sigh, she turned her gaze back to the window, watching the snowflakes as they rode the wind down to the deep drifts below.
After giving birth to her child, Sephiroth, Lucrecia had chosen to move into the inn. Vincent suspected that she had done so to further isolate herself, and he did not blame her for wanting to get away from him. Considering her health, however, she shouldn't have cut herself off from the others as well. Now, with Gast in Midgar dealing with the Company and Hojo too busy with their newest specimen, there was no one else to make sure she was all right. No one but Vincent.
He trudged through the snow-covered streets to the inn, wrenched open the door, and stepped inside. He felt he had to move swiftly, lest he lose his resolve. He had not purposefully gone to see her since months before Sephiroth's birth. Quickening his step, Vincent went up the stairs to her room and knocked on her door.
When at first there was no answer, it did not surprise him, but subsequent knockings brought no response, and he began to worry. He found the door unlocked, and he opened it a crack to peer inside. At once he flung the door wide and rushed to Lucrecia, who lay sprawled prone on the floor. He gently pulled her into his lap and felt for a pulse. She was alive--barely.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him dazedly. "Vincent... Am I... dreaming?"
He shook his head dumbly, not knowing what she meant.
She closed her eyes briefly. "I wanted to see you... but, I..."
"You need a doctor," he said. "I'll go find--"
"No," she interrupted softly, looking up at him steadily despite her weakness. "No, I think... I think it's too late now."
Vincent looked back at her helplessly. "Then what... what do you want me to do?"
"I want to see my son," Lucrecia whispered. "They never... let me hold him. Please, Vincent, I want to hold him, just once..."
He nodded hesitantly and carried her to her bed, carefully laying her down. "I'll be back soon," he assured her. "And I'll bring help; you're not going to die." He wished that he could believe his own words. They both knew that they were but pretense.
"Just bring my son," she said.
Again Vincent nodded, more confidently this time, and with one last glance at her, he ran back to the mansion as fast as his legs could carry him. Nearly falling on the stairs, he at last reached the laboratory and flung open the door.
Hojo looked up sharply from where he stood examining Sephiroth. "What do you want?" he demanded.
"Lucrecia is dying!" Vincent exclaimed breathlessly. He took a step farther into the room, gesturing desperately with one hand. "You have to help her!"
In that first instant, anxiety creased Hojo's face, and he ran both hands through his hair in distress. But then he suppressed the worry, drew a gun from his lab coat, and fired a single shot.
Pain stabbed through Vincent's chest. Everything had happened too quickly for him to comprehend. He had not even had time to scream, and already his legs were giving way beneath him. He crumpled to the floor, his consciousness ebbing away, leaving him with one final thought:
I've failed her.
Author's Notes
Vincent's nightmares... part 2! Yyeah... Originally I think I may have intended to start them with Nibelheim, but I decided against it, and I'm glad I did. I wouldn't have been able to establish Vincent's connection with Talya otherwise. I cut out a lot of unnecessary description from this, both of the mansion and the reactor. Pointless stuff, really. We do, however, get a brief account of Vincent's, erm... previous past. >> In the original version he only ever visited Wutai and his mom died giving birth to him, but I decided that was a bit too much like Sephiroth, and I like the idea of Vincent spending his early childhood in Wutai. Wutai t3h awesome.
Fun fact: This is the chapter where the title "Like Fallen Angels" came from. Up until then, the story had been unnamed. Though it's gone from the rewrite, Lucrecia's ruminations once contained the line "And always the flakes continued to come down, like tiny angels, fallen from grace." And now you know!