A/N This story was written in honor of Vincent for Valentine's Day, but I refuse to believe that there is such a thing as Christmas, or Easter, or any other decidedly Earth holiday in FF7. So I decided to create a holiday that would fit the FF7 universe.

When you are old and gray and full of sleep

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true;

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead,

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

-- William Butler Yeats

"I can't believe he's gone."

"It's what he wanted."

"I know. I can't imagine what he went through watching all of his family be born and die. Born and die. An endless cycle. After a hundred years, I'd seize the first chance I got to join them, too. But still…I miss him…I thought he'd always be a part of my life."

"And he always will be. We'll make sure of that."

"How?"

"I have an idea…can you tell me the stories he told you?"

"Of course! I could never forget them."

"Gwanpa, tell me the stowy of how you met Gwanma," a chubby-cheeked cherub of about four years old demanded of Vincent who looked down at her warmly, with only a touch of exasperation. It was only the thousandth time that his actual great-great-great-great-great granddaughter made the request of him.

"You already know the story, don't you get tired of hearing it?"

"Nuh-uh! I like the way you tell it. Tell me! Puh-lease!" Charlotte pouted, sticking her lower lip out, and reminding him of how much her mother had looked like that when she was her age.

Charlotte's mother hadn't looked much like her parents at all. Even though both had had dark hair, they both had the blonde recessive trait and passed it on to Gina, who had been born with a mop of curly blonde hair, and who had passed on that trait to her daughter. But even though through the years his children's faces had changed subtly, almost all of them stared back at him with warm brown eyes that glowed red in soft light.

In the time after Sephiroth was defeated and the Lifestream had risen out of the planet in order to destroy Meteor, Vincent had settled down in Kalm to have a family with his beloved wife Tifa. Together they raised three children, two boys and one girl, and had had the pleasure of watching those children have children of their own before Tifa died. While Tifa had grown older, bones becoming more brittle, and long lustrous dark hair going completely white as snow, Vincent had retained the same youthful physique. Only his soul aged, and when Tifa died, for the first time Vincent wished for the cold hand of Death to creep up on him and choke his life away. He was depressed for many years, and limited his contact with his children, unreasonably afraid that they would become disillusioned of the adoration cultivated from childhood and finally understand what a freak he really was, and then withdraw their love. But they never did. And slowly they drew him out of his depression with their unconditional love and complete acceptance.

In the hundred years since then, the once small town that he and Tifa had settled in had become peopled with Valentines. The Valentines had also intermarried with Strifes, Kisaragis, Tuestis, Wallaces, Highwinds, and much to Vincent's chagrin his seventeen year old (at the time) great grandson Vincent Valentine IV had run off and eloped with Rufus Shinra's great granddaughter Margaret, who was sixteen at the time, in the idealistic hopes of diffusing some of the tension between the still somewhat antagonistic families. And while Reno had been unsuccessful in his attempts to woo Tifa, his son managed to seduce Vincent's only daughter quite nicely and introduce red hair into the genetic makeup of the subsequent descendants. But for the most part, the person standing in front of you at the street corner, or who cut your meat for you in the deli, or even greeted you every morning over the radio, was a Valentine. And while some of Vincent's prolific offspring had immigrated to other parts of the continent, and the planet as well, most of them decided to settle nearby, to be close to their still seemingly in-the-bloom-of-his-youth progenitor.

"All right," Vincent conceded, breaking out of his reverie. "You know I can't resist that face."

The frown instantaneously curved into a wide happy grin and Charlotte climbed into Vincent's lap, grabbing onto long silky strands of his inky hair and promptly beginning to chew on it. This, too, Vincent had become long accustomed to, as his hair was a favorite plaything of his firstborn, so when she was settled comfortably wrapped in his arms, he began: "A long, long time ago I decided that the best way to repent for my sins, was to go to sleep in a coffin for thirty years. And then the world went into a crisis and a band of young heroes, traversed the planet in order to try to save it. Can you tell me who they are?"

Charlotte nodded vigorously, and then recounted in a sing-song voice, "Cloud, Aewis, Yuffie, Nuh-nah," Charlotte couldn't pronounce "Nanaki" and had shortened it, "Baw-wet, Cait Sith, Cid, and my gwanma Tifa."

"That's right!" Vincent could remember exactly who each of his grandchildren were related to, and even though Cait Sith was techniquely operated by Reeve, who along with Cid were also Charlotte's grandparents in a similar way that he and Tifa were, Vincent didn't bother to correct her. "In their travels they came to Nibelheim where I was sleeping in a haunted mansion. Cloud, Aeris, and Nanaki made such a racket trying to chase Sephiroth that he woke me up. 'Who is it that wakes me from my nightmares?' I asked. And you know how grumpy I can get when somebody wakes me up." Charlotte giggled in agreement. Vincent continued, "'I don't know you. You must leave,' I told them before they could tell me who they were. Then I closed the lid on my coffin to sleep, but sleep escaped me. And when I heard Cloud's footsteps in the hallway leaving the mansion, I knew that I had to go with him. So I joined his party.

It had been thirty years since I had seen sunlight, and at first the light was blinding, so I closed my eyes concentrated on sounds and scents. I could hear Cloud speaking in a low voice explaining how he had found me and that I was now a part of the team. I could smell the musty scent of the house behind me and the sweet mixture of dead leaves and flowers outside. And then I opened my eyes, and the most beautiful pair of ruby red eyes that I had ever seen were staring back at me." Charlotte grinned with excitement. This was her favorite part of the story. "She instantly looked away out of embarrassment of being caught staring. But then she stepped forward and held out her hand. I lifted my left hand to intimidate her because it was a claw." It was a claw no longer, but a lifelike prosthetic developed by his scientifically minded great great grandson's niece Stephanie Tuesti. It had all the functions of the claw, like superior strength and the ability to equip materia, but instead of sharp talons, he had fleshy digits that bleed, and even grew nails that had to be groomed. "But your grandmother wasn't easily scared. She reached out and grabbed it and shook it in greeting. 'Hello, Vincent. My name is Tifa,' she introduced herself. And I think in that moment I fell in love at first sight with her fearlessness, even though I didn't know it at the time."

"Aww, Gwanpa! That a good stowy. I wish my gwanma Tifa could hear it."

"Me too, sweetheart," he said kissing her forehead.

"Now tell me my berfday stowy!" The only other story Charlotte liked hearing as much as the day Vincent met Tifa, was the day she was born…

Tears came to her eyes as Charlotte recounted story after story that she had begged out of her grandfather. She told these childhood recollections to her second or third cousin once removed who was also Kalm's mayor. They were stories about Avalanche, and about the history of her family, and when she got older her grandfather would even tell her ribald stories from his past as a Turk. Out of all of his children, she was the one who liked to listen to his stories the most and had them emblazoned into her memory and her heart.

And now that he was dead, it was the only way she could bring him back to her. It was as if he had been put under a spell, and when he was finally released from it, in a single moment his hair had turned white and thinned out, his skin had dried up and wrinkled, his bones had become brittle and weak, and suddenly his heart had stopped beating. She had been so angry when he told her what he planned to do, but now she had begun to accept it.

It had taken several months, but Charlotte and the mayor had managed to get October 13th, Vincent's birthday, declared as an official holiday. It would be a day for everyone to remember the very protracted life of the man who had touched so many of them personally and whose blood they shared. On that day they would recite the stories that Charlotte had collected and put into a book. And they would tell each other how much they loved one another and meditate on the gift of their mortality. That day would be called Valentine's Day.

Dislcaimer: Vincent isn't mine, but him having a brood of children with Tifa is. And obviously the Yeats poem isn't mine, nor does it belong to FF7, but I think the poem relates perfectly to my story, though I know Yeats didn't have immortal video game characters in mind when he wrote it. I'm going to pretend that there's a Nibel poet named Billy Y. Bates…yeah, that's the ticket…