Disclaimer: I don't own any of the places, settings, or characters of Final Fantasy 7.
A.N. This is a repost of the story Fallen Angel. I didn't like how that story was turning out, so I scrapped it. I got a better idea with this one. So while some parts are like my original story, a lot of it is different. Plus, I know what the plot and pairings will be for this one. :gasp: Anywho, I hope you enjoy it.
Wingless Angels
Chapter 1
The mist swirled, caught in an unfelt breeze. A green light illuminated the mist, the source a bright green pool of liquid. It was cold here. The air was thick and clammy, sticking to the skin unnaturally. Still, he wouldn't turn back now, he had come this far already. It would be senseless to turn and run, drop the flowers he carried and race for the sunlight. No, he would not insult her by doing that. Not this year. So he trudged on, boots dragging more the closer and closer he got to the large lake of thick liquid. The same color his eyes had been, the man mused to himself, a hoarse laugh leaving his throat.
He passed by a pile of dead and withered flowers, the ones from last year. He passed by them, faltering slightly before regaining his composure. No, he would not run again. Even if the Lifestream has preserved her still, the man thought, shuddering. He could still vividly remember the first time he had come here. Looked down into the vibrant lake, to see her at the bottom. The Lifestream kept the mark of the last seven years from her body, preserving her so that she appeared just as she had the last time he had seen her. The same serene, tranquil smile on her face. Almost, as if she had died happy.
A boot splashed and he shook himself out of his thoughts, startled to find himself at the edge of the lake. Eyes shut tight over glowing eyes briefly, before the man forced them open, looking down into the lake. His throat constricted violently as he stared down at her. She was as perfect a when she had lived. Her brown braid had come undone over the years and her hair now waved gently in the water. Her two hands remained tightly grasped together, as if she still prayed in death.
"Aeris..." He whispered the name, hand reaching out towards her still form.
The sound of bootsteps alerted the man to another's presence, long before they came into sight. He placed the three white roses he had brought with him on top of the water, watcing as they sank down towards her. He gasped as a pale image of a hand formed in the Lifestream, reaching out to stroke one of the flower's as it floated down. A brief flash of eyes appeared, disappearing almost instantly.
"Who are you?" A voice rang out from behind him, so familiar but now tinged with outrage and fury.
He turned around slowly, meeting the face of one he had not seen in seven years. The man before him was unchanged. Perhaps a little more filled out, eyes wiser than before. Blonde spikes stuck out at all angles, a few more than the last time he had seen him. He watched as realization dawned in the man who had once been his leader, if for a short time.
"Vincent? Is that you?" The ex-Soldier asked, stepping towards him.
The Turk harbored the thought for a moment of tricking the blonde. He knew he could do it to, his appearance had changed enough that is would be simple. The long raven hair that had at one point hung down to the middle of his back, now barely reached his shoulders. Shades hid the glow of his crimson eyes. He had discarded his crimson cap in favor of a black velvet one, changing his outfit to that of a black leather one. Looking back, he realized he was dressing much like Sephiroth had. The thought amused him. He had kept his boots, just dyeing them black to match the rest. Perhaps the only thing that had remained the same about him, was his silence. Indeed, except for the single word whispered today, the man could not remember when he had last spoken. Had it been a year? Two?
He nodded to the blond though, brushing back the bangs that his headband had never been able to hold back. Arms crossed, his claw tapping against the leather wristguard he wore. The Turk had never wanted to see his friends again. Wanted to remain alone in his grief and silence.
Cloud stopped before the taller man, unbelieving of the sight before him. Vincent had disappeared immediately following the events of Meteor, no one hearing from him for the past seven years. When he had first seen him, standing at the edge of the lake, his back to the blonde, the ex-Soldier had not recongized him. He had only figured out who it must be when he had caught a glimpse of the man's claw, the gold dyed a deep black.
"Damn man, you've changed." Cloud winced. Not the greeting he had had in mind.
Vincent shrugged, not denying it. He had afterall. The ex-Turk turned around to once more gaze out into the lake, uncaring when Cloud came to stand beside him.
"Are you here to see her too?" Cloud asked, looking down at the healer's body with the other man. The blonde waited till Vincent nodded. "Have you come here every year? I haven't seen you ever. None of us have seen you since Meteor. Where'd you go?"
"Home." The rough voice surprised the ex-Soldier who was more used to the smooth and elegant voice the man had once possessed. How long had Vincent gone without speaking!
"We looked for you at the mansion. You weren't there."
The taller man shrugged. He hadn't been there. But then again, he had said he had gone home. The mansion was not his home. "No, I wasn't."
Cloud was confused. The mansion was the black-haired man's home, wasn't it. But he had just admitted to not being there. "Then where have you been?"
The cloak snapped as Vincent turned and began to stride away from the lake and its blonde onlooker. "Farewell, Cloud."
"Huh...hey wait! Vince!" The blonde jogged, trying to catch up to the other. "Where are you going?"
"Do not follow me."
The blonde reached out to grab the cloak of the taller man, dragging him forcibly to a halt. "Why the hell not! I see you for the first time in seven fucking years, say hello, and you suddenly have to leave?"
"Yes."
Vincent tried to walk away once more, only to find the smaller man still clinging stubbornly to his cloak. The man sighed, restraining the urge to rub his temples in annoyance. Of all the people he could have bumped into, it had to be the stubborn one. Though, it was better than the ninja. He tried to pull his cloak from the blonde's fingers, but the ex-Soldier was too strong for that. He hated to do it, but it was the only way to escape from the younger man. He really liked this cloak too. Fingers flew to the clasps at his throat, flipping them open expertly.
Cloud made a grab for the other man as he flung the cloak off, dashing off into the winding streets of the City of Ancients. He cursed, dropping the cloth and taking off in the direction Vincent had gone. "Dammit Vince, get back here!"
As the blonde vanished around a corner, a pale green figure detached itself from the mist surrounding the lake. It made its way over to the discarded cloth, reaching a hand out to touch it. A thick braid fell over one shoulder as she gazed at the garment, a single tear slipping from one eye. A shift in the air and a whisper from the Cetera alerted her to that ne of the men was taking a path back to the lake. With a last look around, the flower girl dissapitated into nothingness.
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He let out a grunt as he jumped down from the roof of the building. The Turk had been forced to take a wide round-about course to lose the ex-Soldier. He could still hear him, the echoes of his cursing and yells rebounding back to the older man. Too bad for him though. By the time he figured out Vincent had gone back for his cloak and a last glimpse at the figure in the lake, the taller man would be gone, disappearing once more. Hopefully forever this time.
He strode to the lake again, pausing only briefly to whisper a soft farewell. The blonde was already heading back. He dashed over to the pile of black cloth, scooping it up as he passed. He flung the garment over his shoulders, redoing the clasps at his throat. His eyebrows drew together as the scent of flowers and sunlight seemed to have woven itself into the material. He was quite sure Cloud didn't wear flower-scented cologne, but where had it come from then?
The Turk shook his head. He would worry about it later. Right now, he needed to focus on the winding pathways of the ancient city and not get lost. One small error could have him traveling these streets for days. The cloak flared out with a sharp crack as the silent man leaped to the roof of a building, striding away briskly. "Until next year, Aeris."