30
Vincent's Story
"Uh, so, this is where you guys met Aerith?" Barret asked uneasily.
Cloud hovered near the doorway, the doors standing crookedly, half supported by their hinges and ready to fall over. He laid a hand on one of them carefully, gloved fingers brushing across the rainbow paneled glass that has cracked in a few places.
He swallowed hard, and cleared his throat.
"Yeah."
Cloud stayed there, only letting his eyes enter the church. Cid sat on a step outside, smoking while lost in his thoughts. In nothing but his cloak, Vincent stood next to Cloud to look inside with him, afraid to step through as though its God may burn him.
"Are you sure you don't want to go inside with her?" Vincent asked Cloud.
Cloud shook his head, his eyes steady across the aisle.
"I'm sure. This is for Aqua," he replied softly.
I heard them all clearly, their conversation, while I crouched low beside the round patch of flowers. Usually, there was a beam of light to give the petals a gentle glow, turning white petals into gold, but today, there was only a draft coming in. I shivered, one hand fiddling with the flowers along the edge, tickling their petals like rubbing under the chins of kittens.
I felt her here, right beside me.
Near my hand, Aerith's appeared, her metal bracelets jingling like far away bells of a church, and she fluffed a sullen flower back to life, her touch a miracle.
Here we are.
I forced a smile, my eyes stinging.
"Yeah, here we are," I whispered, and then sniffed, my nose already leaking.
Do you regret falling into my church?
I heard her smile, her anticipation of my answer to be positive, and I shook my head, barely able to utter, "No, of course not."
Her smell, like these flowers, intensified. I wanted to lay there and roll around in them just to have her scent all over me, and be as close as possible.
My hand held a flower, fingers lightly around its stem, and then froze, shaking until a few petals broke off
My other person.
I ducked my head, moisture collecting in my eyes as my cheeks burned. It hurt to breathe, each gulp of air not feeling enough to make me feel better.
I didn't want to ruin the flowers, but damn it, I couldn't help myself. Delicately, I slumped in them, my side crushing their delicate state selfishly, and I just curled there, bathing in their aroma. In my vision, I could see the many rods of stems, and blurs of white and yellow petals, silently waving at me like tiny propeller shaped umbrellas. I closed my eyes, pretending to be going some place far away. When I count to ten and open them, Aerith will be there. I will first see her boots, and then follow them up her legs and see her familiar pink dress, until I absorbed every inch of her in my stare before her eyes stop my breathing. I closed my eyes and slowly counted to ten. But when I opened them again...
She wasn't there.
Just the background of the church's rustic wooden walls and cracked windows gave a hint of a glum morning, grey fog rolling in with pollution and smoke from the old fires that leaked into the lower slums.
I curled tighter into myself, pretending to be a fetus inside a womb, and closed my eyes again. Maybe when I open them, I will be reborn, in a place where Aerith is.
But again, upon opening them, I was still in the church.
And there was no Aerith.
I kept doing that, until my counting to ten drifted off, instead forgotten after countless times of redos. There was the sound of boots coming in, taking cautious steps over the flowers.
Aqua?
My eyes opened as tiny slits. There were her brown boots, and nothing but fog around the flowers. The edge of her pink dress waved when her legs edged closer, and then she chuckled.
It's time to wake up.
I closed my eyes just to open them up a little more.
Her hand reached, long fingers and soft palm exposed, and her bracelets rang together until their sound waves vibrated my heart.
Hey. I'm always here with you. Remember that.
Then why weren't you there after Isaac died? When I was back at home?
Did I ask that out loud?
Aerith sighed, her boots facing away as though she looked out at the distance.
You were so far gone, you couldn't even hear me when I called to you.
Was that why? Did I shut her out during my darkest hours? I wanted to go back to my dark place and sob, hating myself for pushing her away when I needed her most, and apologize until my throat ache.
Hey, it's time to get up.
I closed my eyes to let the tears fall, and then opened them back up to see her brown boots point back at me. I blinked, and the boots became black.
"Hey, Aqua," Cloud's voice chimed in.
He knelt on one knee, forearm resting over it, and peered down to catch my wet eyes with his with a tilt of his head.
"The others are ready to head back," he informed. His blue eyes grew large as they softened, and I saw his lips press together when he swallowed, his gloved hand out for me to take.
"If you'd like to, I can stay here with you. That way, you can take all the time you need while the others go back to the airship and visit their places. What do you think?"
I detected strain behind Cloud's voice, hinting he was holding something back just to make me feel better. My chest hurt, hearing the hidden message clearly. I knew he wanted to take me somewhere specific, something he's planned out for a long time. And yet, he was willing to let that go if I wanted to just stay here for days and days until my body molded with the flowers.
I blinked another tear free before taking his hand.
He took a deep breath.
"No. I've been here long enough. Let's go back," I whispered.
If Aerith has always been with me, then there was no reason to dwell inside her church. I didn't have to be here to feel her, that's what I know now.
Cloud exhaled, and squeezed my hand. His eyes let go, and he relaxed.
"Okay."
He pulled me up and into his arms. I didn't expect that, blinking wide at the morning fog sneaking through the cracked windows behind him. His arms held me tight, fists up my back, and he sighed without saying anything. I returned the hold, and closed my eyes as I squeeze back. Sometimes just being held was more than enough.
...
Since the recent events from Midgar, I've felt to have aged a few years. The city had restored, though what will be of its future, no one could say. No government and soon, no people willing to stay. Looking out at the glass as the Airship flew over the grey, barren lands outside Midgair, I found a new appreciation when I observed the tiny dots of people below, walking or driving their way East towards Kalm as a mass of many colors. It looked to be thousands.
I sucked in a breath, and turned to Barret.
"Barret, do you think Kalm can handle that many?"
He took in the view with me, hands on his hips, and whistled.
"Wow, would ya look at that? There's a lot of them," he gasped, brown eyes widening.
"It's probably for the best. These people deserve the sky," Cloud added, glancing alongside between us. Vincent looked over his shoulder and frowned at the scattered herds.
"That's the beauty of being human. We adapt," he mumbled.
The barren lands swerved. It made my heart explode to see the coming of green, like the beginning of a sunrise to a difficult night, Kalm just a minute away.
Barret was still in shock at the news of my pregnancy, that and, of course, Vincent being Sephiroth's father because he still brought it up.
"I mean, I get Vincent, but, Cloud? I didn't know you had it in you," he shared, eying him with one large eye like he could scan at all of his DNA.
Cloud crossed his arms and fumed.
"Oh, so Vincent being a father makes sense, but not me?" He sizzled.
Barret chuckled as he shook his head.
"Nah. You still a kid!"
"I am not!" Cloud grilled, narrowing his eyes.
"You pouting like one, now!" Barret snapped, pointing his big gun arm at him, and they glared at each other.
"Why did I come back?" Vincent groaned, leaning up against the rail.
"To make you feel better, I don't think being an adult is really a thing anyway," I added, shrugging at him. He rolled his red eyes up at Cid, the pilot chuckling to himself.
"Well, the cat's out of the bag. Yeah yeah, Aqua pregnant. Who doesn't know?" he asked.
I used my fingers to count off.
"There's Reeve." He stayed in Midgar to help his parents relocate.
"Tifa." She's in Costa De Sol.
"Yuffie." In Wutai with her family.
"Red..." Cosmo Canyon.
I almost lasted with Aerith, going, "And then there's A-!" I bit my tongue, and held up four fingers. That felt like plenty, about half the gang.
"Tifa may explode when she finds out," Barret grumbled, and fired bullets at Cloud with his hard eyes. Cloud scoffed as he looked away.
"If she comes back," he muttered, hands up to gesture he had no clue.
"I'm betting on Reeve. Hey, let's bet ten thousand Gil!" Cid cried down at Barret.
"You on! If Tifa bursts, I win. If it's Reeve, you win!" They gave each other a thumbs up while I struggled to compose myself, cheeks turning red.
"Guys! This isn't a game!" I exclaimed.
"Ten thousand on Yuffie. She will bounce all over the walls," Vincent added.
I gawked at him over my shoulder.
"Are you kidding me?"
VIncent smirked. "Just living a little."
"Hey, we in Kalm," Cid just announced. Barret wasn't good at goodbyes, but he was at hugs. He squeezed me so tight, his metal arm adding to the strain of my breathing capabilities.
"Now we gotta win. For your future kid's sake," he whispered, lost in the embrace.
"Barret," I squeaked, gasping.
He let go and apologized, a nervous smile.
"Will you be back?" I asked. His smile faded, and he shrugged those large, brown shoulders of his, eyes glistening.
"I hope so. That's all I can say," was his answer.
Barret left, taking the ramp and merging with the crowd of incoming migrants.
"Next stop?" Cid cried.
I looked at Cloud across the bridge to discover he was already watching me, finding him leaning back against the platform of Cid's station.
Before he said anything, someone rang, "Rocket Town. I enjoyed its atmosphere."
It was Vincent.
Cid scratched his head.
"You sure?"
Vincent sat on the rail nearest the glass window, and without looking at Cid, he nodded, too entranced with the marsh lands below us.
"Yes. I could use some socializing," he justified. He said nothing more on the matter, leaving Cid to shrug.
"Well, that means less stops for me. I hate feeling like a bus driver anyway." He looked down at Cloud right below him.
"What about you, Cloud? Where do you want to spend your lovey dovey time with Aqua?" He exaggerated his tone, making kissing noises like Yuffie. I pretended to be too interested in the specks of bogs and swirls of Midgar Zoloms along the murky green waters, but my face grew too hot, fanning myself with a hand.
As for Cloud, he exhaled in his hands.
"Cid, stop," he groaned. His sword pulsed back to life, lighting up too brightly with his desire to stab Cid.
"Fine, fine," the pilot grumbled, no longer having fun.
Cloud walked up along the view glass as he replied sternly, "Nibelheim."
I turned around to look at him, not expecting that sort of request. Then again, I didn't know what place he really had in mind for a date. Maybe Gold Saucer?
Cloud met my wide eyes with a soft gaze, and he smirked, crossing his arms.
"Is that okay?"
There was a pulse of connection between us, and that pull returned, the desire to be near him. I took a deep breath, hand clutching my chest.
"Of course. I'm just surprised, that's all," I admitted. Why Nibelheim?
I let that question slip without meaning to, the location out of curiosity, but Cloud smirked and gave me his back, sword dimming when he calmed.
"You'll see," was all he clued in before walking away.
"I'm going to give Reeve a call. Be back in a minute," he informed, and left the bridge.
"Nibelheim it is. Thank the Planet that's near home," Cid sighed, and he steered the airship a little more West, having us roam over the mines into the forest hills.
By the time we flew over Junon, I had enough courage to walk up to Vincent. He sat one leg draped over the rail, Cloud's back jeans a little loose on him, and kept his red cloak tight around his chest.
His eyes remained lost at the view, finding the green hills outside Junon to be something to marvel it. Spreads of bright green laid under a cloudy morning, a few columns of light casting spots of sparkle to the puzzle set of different patches of fields.
"Vincent?"
He perked his eyes at me, face resting in his usual soft frown.
"Yes?"
I swallowed and tried to take notice of the view without gazing at him too intensely. A certain question has been occupying my thoughts. My fingers played together, struggling to bring it up.
Thankfully, I didn't have to, Vincent being the first to speak up, and it eased my anxiety.
"I apologize for what I did to you."
Initially, I didn't know what he meant, having to think about it for a minute.
"Sorry for?" His hard look jolted an answer in me, and I gasped, figuring it out.
I clapped my hands together. "Oh!"
The evening he almost sucked my blood before Cloud threatened to cut his head off.
Right...
I blinked rapidly to come up with the right words, suddenly feeling awkward when memories of Vincent's cold lips and teeth grind against my neck resurfaced. As though to brush away that thought, my hand rubbed around my neck, and I looked down at his sabatons.
"You were in a difficult place," I muttered, uncertain how to go about it.
"That's no excuse for what I was about to do," Vincent rattled, hard on himself for me.
I swallowed.
"I'm not mad. I just wish, you didn't feel the need to disappear like that. We don't hate you," I clarified, but Vincent jerked his piercing red eyes away, back to the scenery, and he sighed into the high neck of his cloak.
"I know that, but, I needed to take care of a few things anyway. It was a good excuse to step away and figure things out," he uttered.
I clasped my hands behind my back and inched closer.
"Like?" I pried.
The shoreline appeared, followed by the grey waters.
Vincent looked at that and replied, "I heard a rumor in Rocket Town, a cave somewhere between NIbelheim and Gold Saucer, behind a large waterfall, haunted by a ghost of a woman. I don't particularly believe in ghosts, but, I had to see it for myself."
I could only take one guess as to why such a rumor was so important to Vincent.
"Were you hoping it was Lucrecia?"
Vincent smirked to himself.
The grey along the ocean dissolved, fading into dark blue like Cloud's eyes, and then the sky cleared. Sunlight leaked in, creating glowing pools across the waters.
Vincent closed his eyes from it.
"Yes," he replied.
"Did you find her?"
At first, VIncent said nothing, only chuckling to himself.
"Maybe I will show you after we defeat Sephiroth," he ended, barely giving any hint. I scoffed as I crossed my arms.
"Are you kidding me? You're just like Cloud," I grumbled. I, then, thought it was a good idea to impersonate him with my Batman voice like I usually did when I mocked him.
"I'll tell you after Sephiroth. I'll do this after Sephiroth. After Sephiroth. Blah, blah, blah!"
Vincent chuckled, and took his gold gauntlet hand to hide his eyes.
"You're terrible."
I giggled with him.
Cid released a suppressed laugh, making funny noises in his throat. I easily forgot he was up there, eavesdropping while piloting the airship silently.
"Very funny," Cloud groaned behind us. I spun and popped my eyes at him crossing his arms and glaring at me, and then towards Vincent.
Vincent shrugged.
"She said it, not me," he noted, innocent.
Cloud sulked and walked in to rest his hands over the rail to take a glance at the ocean.
"Yeah, well, you laughed at it," he muttered, and then sighed.
"Vincent, can I ask you something?" I began, another question bothering me.
Cloud and Vincent perked.
"What?" Vincent was ready for a difficult question, bracing himself.
I glanced at Cloud eying me curiously, and then I turned back to Vincent to ask cautiously, "Why did Lucrecia marry Hojo instead of you?"
Cloud tensed.
"Whoa!" Cid called out.
Vincent pressed his lips together and focused on the glimmering sunlight spilling over the gentle waves. He kept quiet for a long time, the air vents blowing his soft black hair over his cheeks, red eyes steady and soft.
Maybe he wasn't going to answer. He could at least tell me he refused.
And then…
"She felt guilty," he replied, surprising me.
I blinked, and felt Cloud leaning in behind me to listen, his chest pressed against my back. I should be used to his closeness by that point, but it still brought warmth to my cheeks, distracting.
"Guilty?" I steered, trying to stay focused.
Vincent sucked a deep breath, and closed his eyes.
When he opened them, he was lost in his past, recalling the moments that shook his insides. His red eyes dulled with only tiny glints of glowing rubies, sparkling like embers.
"For my father's death. He was a scientist, like her," he explained.
"They did research together, but then an accident happened. Lucrecia blamed herself for what happened to my father, the research her idea. I..." Vincent took another deep breath, hesitant. I fluttered my hands up, and briefly mentioned, "It's okay, you don't have to explain it!"
He shook his head, long bangs swaying back and forth.
"No, I want to tell my story. A short part of it, anyway. The darkest of my days."
Vincent dropped his golden hand to his chest, and squeezed his cloak tight.
He had to take a minute to collect himself, his face growing whiter, if that was even possible. The sun bathed him without burning his exposed skin, turning his arms and face to gold. Vincent appeared to calm in its light, finally used to its warmth after being in the dark for too long.
"During the Jenova project, I was appointed to be her bodyguard. A little over a year into the project, we grew close. And then she finally told me she knew my father. I..."
Vincent squeezed his chest harder, the fabric of his cloak tearing under his nails.
"I took advantage of her."
Cloud and I shared troubled looks. I wondered if Vincent was just being hard on himself. Thirty years was a lot of time to reminisce on one's life events. That inner voice speckles guilt onto you like rain. Given more time that rain collects into puddles, and then a pool. Eventually, Vincent drowned in an ocean of it, with no land to free him from fighting the constant waves of his inner critic.
Vincent shook, as though he has returned to that ocean, his legs dipped in it until he felt the chill.
"I was only trying to make her feel better..."
...
In his late twenties, before being touched my Hojo, Vincent stood clean in his Turk suit, his black hair, loose and shorter back then. For his story, I imagined him as a Japanese businessman in a navy suit, but with face framing fringes and loose bangs edging over one black eyebrow. His warm, amber eyes pleaded with Lucrecia when he looked down on her as she wept.
The female scientist had just turned into a lonely child, weeping softly as she sat on the edge of her bed, and Vincent wanted nothing more than to cradle her.
"I'm so sorry," she gasped, hiding her face in her hands, long brown hair falling over her face to tickle her bare knees. Her legs curled in, black flats balancing on her toes.
Vincent didn't know what to do, nothing except to bend to Lucrecia's level, and shyly take her shoulders.
"Lucrecia..." his young voice began warmly.
Lucrecia sniffled, shaking her head back and forth, refusing to look at him.
"No. It's all my fault," she whimpered, trembling.
Vincent sucked in his lower lip, and grew courage for what he was about to do next.
"Lucrecia, look at me," he asked. When she ignored him, he took another deep breath, and peeled her hands away from her eyes. They were glossy and pink, still averting to the floor even when he squeezed her wet hands into his strongly.
"Look at me," Vincent tried again.
Lucrecia choked in more gasps and coughed. Her long eyelashes fluttered, and to his relief, she finally looked up at him. Tears glazed her cheeks, her lips dry, and Vincent found himself glancing at them often. He focused back to her eyes. Soft brown, lighter than his, and full of fantasies he knew she lived in, but refused to commit to. One of them involving him, he felt that.
Vincent swallowed, finding the woman he fell in love with, turn quiet, her eyes locked in his to search inside his soul for the flame that was hers.
He didn't mean to get sucked in, a young man feeling his heart explode until its fragments lodged into his lungs, having trouble breathing. His hands holding hers trembled. Such soft, warm, and small hands.
Her eyes: Brown with speckles of green in the iris, like tiny emeralds floating in there, followed by his reflection across the glaze of them, and he sucked in a broken breath.
Vincent wanted to say something, anything, but maybe he didn't have to. He found himself leaning closer towards Lucrecia. When she remained still, leftover tears speckling down towards her chin, he lowered his eyelids and leaned in a little more.
His heart was pounding up to his throat, unable to swallow, the heat of his quick pulse traveling into his neck and shoulders until he quivered to its warmth, suddenly addicted.
As soft as a flower petal, Vincent's lips kissed away that tear at Lucrecia's chin, and he heard her gasp. Her lips shuddered, not telling him to stop, nor did she recoil. He thought that was all the permission he needed, again, his lips traveling along her jaw, around her cheeks, to banish more of her sadness. If Vincent could, he would gladly suck in all of Lucrecia's agony, consuming it even if it poisoned him.
He trekked shyly around her cheek, afraid to touch her lips as though still treading unknown waters, uncertain if she approved. To his surprise, her head turned, leaning into it, and his lips hovered over hers, breathing against them unsteadily.
Vincent's entire body calcified, forgetting where he was, what they were arguing about, what the world was even all about, and couldn't stop looking at her poor, dry lips, desperate to dampen them. He couldn't hold it any longer, his gut telling him it was a terrible idea, his chest tightening with anxiety.
But Vincent was only human.
He started out carefully, like stepping his toe into an ocean, and decided simply to brush her lips with his, just a peck.
It was a mistake, that touch alone pulling him straight into the deep, and he lost it.
Vincent exhaled hard before mashing his lips over Lucrecia's gasp, and threw her hands down to hold her head. He's always wanted to taste her, to drink her and inhale her gasps into his mouth, but it only made him hungry for more.
It tickled with pleasure to feel her fingers slip through his hair, grasping it to pull him to her until their lips pressed together harder.
Vincent didn't plan it that way, but the craving took over, the first beast inside him awakening, and it turned his hands into claws when he slipped that lab coat off her, left on the wooden floor. He couldn't stop himself, but she never told him to anyway. He sighed into her mouth as soon as her hands wandered, pushing his blazer off his shoulders.
Clothes peeled off, the both of them shuddering nervously when they fell into bed together.
Lucrecia gasped, long hair loose and spread on a pillow above her. Vincent looked down at her beside the soft lamp lightning, and simply wanted to die then and there if he could.
If I died right after this, I will be okay with that.
As she shyly looked away, his eyes soaked in all of her, his hands tracing all her lines to help him remember. He wanted to never forget how his hands swallowed her waist, nor the way she shivered when he let his fingers drag along her hip.
Vincent took his time, enjoying every minute of it, his lips and fingers exploring all that he always wanted, his eyes closed while spilling hot breath across her soft belly, and kissed every part of her skin.
"Vincent," Lucrecia whispered, and he kissed her deeply to swallow in her moans.
It was the best night of his life.
"I love you," Vincent whispered, pressing against her when they drifted off to sleep later that evening. He kissed her bare shoulder, wishing she would roll around to face him. Was Lucrecia asleep? Or did she stare off at the wall uneasily, pressing her lips together to suppress those very same words to him? Vincent didn't know, and he didn't think much of it when he closed his eyes and draped an arm over her to keep her close to him.
Was it all just a dream? He thought he heard her whisper in the night, but it wasn't "I love you."
"I'm so sorry."
Vincent awoke in a cold sweat. The curtains were open, letting the morning sunlight coat him for a prolonged period until he was too hot and woke up. He blinked up at the paneled ceiling with carvings of flowers around a small chandelier, and took notice of cobwebs. A spider was wrapping a recent prey into a tiny white ball.
Vincent turned away, rolling onto his left side, and found space beside him.
He blinked again, registering that he was alone, and jolted to sit up.
"Lucrecia?"
The sheet fell off him, his eyes scanning the room. Her clothes, coat, shoes, all of them gone. He shouldn't be surprised, right? Lucrecia had a busy schedule. Maybe it was nothing to be concerned about. But Vincent swallowed, a stone rolling around in his gut, and he grunted to it, wondering why he felt uneasy.
He sighed, and got up quickly to put on his clothes and go back to his hotel room to clean himself presentable.
Later that day, his thoughts stuck on last night, Vincent anxiously returned to the mansion, his heart unable to relax when he walked into the basement lab.
Scientists preoccupied at their stations took little notice to him, just a regular Shinra employee like them. He walked on through the hallway of books and test tubes, his gut twisting a little tighter.
Lucrecia's voice added a spark in his chest when he heard her giggle, enough for him to gasp like a bell awoke him from his daze. Excited to see her, Vincent walked into the library with a smirk, anticipating a warm exchange. His lips quickly melted, and to his horror, found her along with Hojo, the two fixated on writing in their journals. They had their heads close together, Hojo pointing to a note from Professor Gast and reading it aloud while Lucrecia took notes.
Vincent easily noticed the other man's free hand over her shoulder. He couldn't stand it, how close they were, Lucrecia's hair touching Hojo's cheek, his hand touching her, their eyes meeting casually, smiles for each other. What the hell?
"Ah, Vincent, there you are."
Hojo looked up when he finally noticed Vincent was standing there, stunned. Lucrecia looked at him briefly before flickering her eyes away, avoiding his shocked expression.
It's just work. That's all this is. Don't think too much of it.
Vincent tried to reassure himself with such thoughts, straightened, and said, "I'm ready to go to the reactor when you are."
Hojo grinned.
"Excellent."
Lucrecia said nothing.
Vincent just stood there, desperate for a glance of recognition, of something to hint to him, she valued their night together, but maybe that was childish of him. He turned around to prevent smacking Hojo's hand away, and narrowed his eyes at the small shapes of shadows that took birth from his new anger, his teeth clenched.
Lucrecia spent more time with Hojo. Why? Vincent had no idea.
"Why him?" A scientist questioned, taking notice of those two working together lately.
"Beats me. Maybe she's attracted to his brilliance," another scientist wondered.
Vincent's jaw tensed when he overheard.
His brilliance? More like his bullshit.
That night faded far away, just as far as Lucrecia distant herself from Vincent. He tried to approach her, but she was rarely alone, except for the latest hours in her study or asleep. He wanted to avoid being too abrupt, knocking on her door to demand an explanation. Possibly, that night didn't happen at all? Vincent was starting to even doubt himself, half believing that their intimacy was all in his imagination. But then why could he recall that little mole under Lucrecia's right breast, or the sounds that she made when he touched her sensitive areas? Why couldn't he get it out of his head? He was a man possessed by the past, left unguided, all because Lucrecia gave no direction. She took off and pretended nothing had happened, leaving Vincent tense around her. He almost preferred to go back to how things were. Was this his punishment for giving in? The price to pay for his wish granted?
Vincent found himself unable to sleep on most nights, tossing around in his bed at Nibeheim's inn while wishing to share his sheets with Lucrecia. He ached. He felt hallow without her.
Why? Why did she do this to him? Did he do something wrong? He was too naive then to see it, to really understand what she was going through. The deep lesson that Vincent won't learn until after everything fell apart.
Weeks later, Vincent endured the anxiety until it became second nature, letting it eat at him until he told himself he just wanted Lucrecia to be happy. He stopped feeling upset every time he saw Hojo leaning into her to peck a kiss on her cheek. He stopped throwing every silent curse he could think of at Hojo every time he saw his hands on her, his disgusting hand gripping her curvy bottom like she was an object.
Vincent was being eaten alive inside. As time went on, his shadows grew, circling him like a cult following, which only fed on his feelings.
It only got worst.
One day, he was walking down the hallway inside the mansion, when he spotted a blur of white and blue dart around a corner and lunged into the bathroom. The door slammed, and he paused, hearing someone vomit painfully.
He froze, awaiting the door to open, and found Lucrecia stumbling out, gripping her stomach. Her bangs clung to her wet cheeks, and she huffed like she sprinted a mile.
"Lucrecia?"
She choked, finally noticing him.
"Are you all right?" Vincent asked.
She spun away.
"I'm fine!" And she disappeared, the last of her, her long brown hair flapping behind her.
Vincent held still for a minute, his thoughts going a million miles an hour, until he told himself not to dwell on it. But being too observant on Lucrecia, he discovered her to be sick often. A week later, he only found out about her engagement to Hojo through word of mouth. It was the whole talk of the mansion and fresh homes built beneath Mt. Nibel.
"They don't even want a ceremony, how typical for two scientists," one lab assistant sassed. It grew into a discussion in the lab, and Vincent picked up on it.
"Who cares? Ceremonies don't matter," another piped.
"Do you think they really love each other?"
"Do us scientists love anything other than our work?"
"Good point."
"Then why bother?"
"It was her idea."
"Oh. Why?"
Vincent asked himself the same thing. Why? Why get married? Hojo didn't seem like the type to care. It was stranger still to have Lucrecia encourage it. Something didn't feel right.
After a month of walking on eggshells around her, Vincent had enough.
He knew she was in her study, when he decided to open the door abruptly, and saw her gasp, lifting her wide eyes from a microscope.
"Vincent! I'm working!" Lucrecia snapped.
His eyes bore into hers as he closed the door behind him, and pressed his back against it to trap her.
It's now or never.
"Are you happy?"
Lucrecia sucked in a breath, as though seeing him for the first time since their night together. She had to look away, staring blankly at her microscope as her hands fiddled with a stack of specimen plates beside it.
"What do you mean?" She asked in a low voice. Vincent inspected her, realizing how pale she's gotten, her cheeks a little more hollow. The warmth in her eyes had dulled, breasts fuller under her ruffled blue blouse.
He licked his lips and looked away to compose himself.
"With Hojo. I just want to know if you are happy with him."
"Of course, I'm happy. A few of our test subjects just made a breakthrough with the cells injected into them. Their strength surpasses any human capabilities-!"
Vincent pounded a fist on the door behind him to shut her up.
"I meant being in a relationship with him! Not your damn work!"
Lucrecia frowned.
"Our relationship is my work, Vincent," she argued gloomily, her tone dropping with a sad truth. Her eyes shrank at her slides, stacks of them waiting for her to inspect. She looked away from the demands of her, and took a deep breath.
"What? Just because you slept with me once, you think I belong to you, is that it?" Her voice was surprisingly cold. Did parts of Hojo latch onto Lucrecia?
Vincent stiffened.
"What? No. Of course, not. I just want to know why? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?"
After over a month of repression, it all came pouring out, Vincent stepping forward with his fists together up to his chin.
"Lucrecia, I just want you to talk to me. You can't just pretend nothing happened between us."
"Why not?!" She screeched as she rose sharply, glaring up at him.
Vincent dropped his jaw, startled at her tense behavior. It wasn't like her to snap.
This couldn't be happening. He felt a part of himself cracking, seeing the woman he loved slowly pull herself apart, spiraling in her self guilt and delusions. If only he could take her away from here, to keep her safe and love her.
"I..." Vincent was at a lost for words. Now that he had her attention, he forgot all that he rehearsed. His throat swelled, eyes burned.
"Crap, not again!" Lucrecia suddenly gasped, and she dove for a garbage can to vomit in it, on her hands and knees. It was painful to watch her begin to sob while coughing up the last bit of sickness.
It didn't even occur to Vincent until he connected all the dots. He's seen her secretly get sick, the way her breasts grew under her shirt, or how her face perspired, or her hand rested on her belly as she worked alone in the lab when no one was around. Vincent stalked her, aware, and it wasn't until now the penny dropped.
"Lucrecia," he gasped, his amber eyes widening.
"No!" She snapped, aware of what he was about to say by the tone of his voice.
Vincent trembled. Sweat tickled his neck.
"Are you..."
"No! Get out! Please! For the love of God, please!" She coiled into a tight ball and wept.
Vincent watched her for a while, trying to sort his troubling thoughts while disobeying her words. He heard her, but was that what she really wanted? She asked him to leave, but her tone rippled like a rough river, out of control, desperate for direction, for warmth. He said nothing, and walked closer, sitting next to her. He couldn't stand seeing her like this.
Without asking, he pulled her into his arms, and let her sob into his chest. For a long time, they were like that, in the middle of the floor in one of the lab rooms, nothing but shelves of books and microscopes to lay witness to another rare moment Vincent will never forget. After Lucrecia's tears diminished, and her sobs turned into whimpering, he kissed her head and whispered, "Let's get out of here. Marry me and let's start a life together."
It came out so easily, no trace of doubt in his voice. Those words felt right to him.
Vincent could picture it now. Lucrecia agreeing to ditch the Jenova project and run away with him. They will live in Rocket Town or Cosmo Canyon, living simply. Lucrecia's belly will continue to grow, and Vincent will do any job to support his new family. He will give up his Turk position, his reputation, his old life, just to have his new wife with him. They will have a child, and maybe another, a growing family.
Starting over.
He closed his eyes, lost in his imagination. His arms tightened around her, fresh tears of a possible life laying ice-cold fingers across his hot cheeks.
"Please," he begged. "Please, marry me."
Vincent cracked, chipping away until he let himself pile into broken pieces, giving them one by one to Lucrecia.
But she threw them back at him when she shook her head.
"I can't," she gasped.
Vincent closed his eyes tight, half expecting her to say that. More of him cracked, for which his shadows devoured.
...
"A few days later, she married Hojo," Vincent shared.
Cloud and I sat on bean bag chairs, listening intently. I rested my elbows over my thighs, face sitting in my hands while leaned in, and gazed up at Vincent with moisture collecting in my eyes.
"Vincent, you were so romantic," I sighed.
"More like a wimp!" Cid shouted.
"Cid!" I warned, glaring at him over my shoulder.
Cloud rested his chin over his laced hands, eying Vincent carefully.
"She married Hojo to hide her pregnancy?" He guessed.
Vincent nodded.
"I can assure you, he didn't notice, too absorbed in his work until after..." he cleared this throat, not wanting to clarify. I clenched my teeth and forced the image of anyone bedding Hojo out of my mind.
"Anyway," Vincent dragged, closing his eyes.
"When it was confirmed Lucrecia was pregnant, and showed, Hojo convinced her to inject Jenova cells into the fetus."
…
It wasn't Vincent's business.
Lucrecia was married to Hojo, it's as simple as that. But he couldn't help himself, being her ears easily when he had to protect her from the monsters between the mansion and the reactor. He heard the talk through the lab, the mansion, the growing town where families of the scientist began to congregate.
Painfully, he watched her belly grow, sucking up more of her life everyday like a parasite. Her walks grew shorter, until she was unable to take trips to the reactor anymore. Her nights working in the lab were no more, often the woman sick in her bed, while Hojo continued to work like he had no wife to worry about.
Vincent had just finished writing his report for the night, and thought to take a walk through the mansion for one more sweep. When he took the creaking stairs up to the second floor, he inhaled sharply, and ran to Lucrecia's side when he found her lying in the middle of the wood floor. She was gasping while clutching to her stomach.
"Lucrecia, what's wrong?" He cried, pulling her into his arms.
Her wet face gleamed under the faint hall lantern, and her eyes blinked weakly up at him.
"It hurts," she gasped, sweating profusely. In his arms, Lucrecia was drenched, her legs wet. A clear puddle swelled under her hips. Vincent lifted her easily into him, carrying her.
"Don't worry. I got you. We'll get a doctor," he assured, bringing her back to her room.
"Get Hojo, please!" She begged.
Vincent laid Lucrecia in bed, and she grasped his hand, hers hot and wet.
"Please, Vincent!" She was delirious.
Vincent felt himself crumbling once more to see her in pain, and he blinked back tears.
"Okay. I will get Hojo."
"A little soon, isn't it?" Hojo inquired when Vincent told him of the news. The scientist was in the middle of adding solvents to his test tubes, mixing them with traces of Jenova cells and writing down notes on the reactions.
Vincent curled a fist behind him to hide his hatred for the man.
"Her water broke, that's enough to say she's in labor, early or not," he reported.
Hojo worked quietly, but Vincent noticed how his jaw clenched, and a vein popped out from his neck.
"Is that so?" His shrill of a voice echoed into the empty lab a little after midnight.
"Hojo, she's asking for you," Vincent urged, sick of his slow approach to the situation like it wasn't critical.
Hojo slightly turned his head over his shoulder, hair longer and messier lately. He seemed to be ready to say something, or to take a step into a direction he may have thought about, but at the last second, changed his mind, and pulled back his latex gloves with a loud slap.
"Fine," he announced with distaste.
Vincent glared at the back of his white coat, begging to shoot a bullet into it.
...
"Lucrecia's birth was brutal, but eventually, she gave a natural birth to a boy," Vincent explained to us.
"Sephiroth."
He then sighed, and sank his face into his golden claw, hiding from the sun rays to help him dive into a darker time.
"She never left her bed again," he shuddered.
Vincent grew sick at watching Hojo take pride in the infant. How could anyone stick a new baby into an incubator? A tank? How could anyone fight against the high-pitched wails after shots were given? The assessments? The many hands? The forced feeds and lack of being held? Vincent felt nauseous, and left the lab to get away from the baby's screams.
I can't stand it. They're monsters.
He checked on Lucrecia, the woman alone, and still sick in her bed. She was left behind, forgotten as though she did what she was meant for, tossed aside while Hojo claimed his prize.
He just wanted a test subject. And he used Lucrecia to get it.
Vincent smacked his fist into the doorway when he had those thoughts while watching Lucrecia groan, her skin mottling along her arms and legs when she kicked off her blankets. He picked them up and bundled her.
She didn't protest when he sat in bed with her, taking her head over his lap, and stroked her brittle hair. Even if Lucrecia wasn't the youthful, glorious starlight he's met almost two years ago, she was still beautiful to him.
His fingers tickled her hot cheek, her eyes off somewhere. She wasn't with him, but lost in a nightmare, mumbling words Vincent didn't understand.
"Let me take you far away from here, now," Vincent begged again, and he dropped his forehead to press it against hers. He trembled, and after holding it in for a long time, wept as he held her face close to his. Shadows growled at their bedside, thirsty for flesh.
"God," he cracked, his black hair longer and hiding her face beneath his.
Even when he begged those words to her, he knew in his heart, it was too late.
It was too damn late.
His tears wet her cheeks quietly, tiny pats on her face, a face that used to glow. Her dull eyes used to sparkle. Those lips that lifted by a glance in his direction, enough to stop his heart. Her hair tossed easily by the forest breeze.
Lucrecia. That woman who used to scrunch over her workbench, chewing the end of her pencil while reading a slide. That woman who laughed at Vincent's short word answers, and it brought him to a place he's never stepped into before when he heard it the first time. That woman with the most genuine smile, something difficult to produce.
The image of the old Lucrecia, beautiful, smiling and looking over her shoulder at Vincent.
It cracked.
That woman was gone.
Vincent then felt a cold hand touch his sticky cheek, and he gasped to it. It's been too long since she touched his skin.
"Vincent..."
He held his breath, and pulled his head back to get a better look, finding her brown eyes clearing. They were no longer dull, but glimmering. Briefly, they came alive, and the Lucrecia he knew, smiled her pale lips up at him.
"We'll go away together, just you and me?" Her voice was coarse, unable to drink or eat anything in days.
VIncent's shadows grew, towering over him with whispers of what he should've done all along, and guilt swelled inside him.
He nodded, blinking more tears loose.
"Yes. I'll take you wherever you want to go," he whispered, and kissed her hot forehead.
Lucrecia closed her eyes and smiled wider.
"I like the mountains. Near here, green, and there's this giant waterfall..." Her voice cracked, and she coughed, which hurt her chest, and she moaned, clutching to her heart.
"And we can take our baby with us," she gasped, tensing with internal pains Vincent didn't quite understand.
The darkness grew, stretching out arms and legs until claws curled around his chest, and latched onto his heart. He fought the impulse to clench his fist, afraid to crush the sick woman in his hold.
Lucrecia sighed, and the lights in her eyes faded. She was gone once more, lost in her inner demons and delusions.
Vincent gave her one last kiss, taking her cracked lips into his. She tasted stale, death within reach. The voices of his shadows were no longer ignored when Vincent snapped, the woman he loved fading in his arms.
"I'll make this right, I promise."
He left her, stomping towards the passage to the basement with determination. His dark blobs followed, sliding across the brick and slithering through the gaps of chains and bars. They pierced into his heart, and forced feed it sludge that pulsed rage throughout his whole body until black flames tickled his back.
Hojo was alone. Perfect.
The man was in the middle of writing in a journal, his back to Vincent. The baby slept soundly in a tiny basket on the bench. No chandelier, no lullabies, nothing. Just the bubbling sounds of boiled solutions and the humming of Mako pipes bringing energy to the dull fluorescent lamps above.
Vincent couldn't stop staring at that sleeping baby, wondering if it slept in nightmares.
That's my child.
"Hojo!" Vincent called out.
Hojo smirked before turning his little eyes to Vincent, and his glasses glinted under a Mako lamp.
"Vincent, what can I do for you?" He sounded condescending when he asked.
Die, that's what you can do.
Vincent shoved his shaky hands into his pockets to prevent himself from pulling out his gun, and took a deep breath.
Shoot him. Shoot him now.
"Lucrecia is dying. What are we going to do about getting her better?"
Hojo lifted his thin eyebrows like the question never occurred to him before, sounding absurd to his ears. Was he even aware she was sick?
"Oh? Well, just let her rest. If she makes it, brilliant. If not, it won't interfere with my work."
Hojo's own shadows bared fangs and made battle against Vincent's. Hojo lifted a hand to cast aside the conversation as he turned away, already done, and turned a page from his journal.
Vincent clenched his teeth.
"No!"
He listened to his shadows to fight, and pulled out his gun. It aimed straight at Hojo's back of white, wishing to see his coat stained from his blood.
"No more! I will not stand for this shit! What you are doing is inhumane!" Vincent screamed. He straightened his arm and aimed the barrel for Hojo's spine, right at his neck, where he will surely die if shot there. He pulled back the safety.
"Your wife is dying! You experiment on your child! You take war prisoners and inject them with this Jenova shit! I don't see what Lucrecia ever saw in you!"
Hojo sighed, his back to Vincent while he sank his hands into his pockets.
"My wife," he hissed, like the word burned his mouth, tongue left out to dry in the infested air.
"My child," he added, just as disgusted.
His shoulders then shook.
"Be careful, Vincent," Hojo warned, as though he was playing with a kid holding a toy gun. That only rattled Vincent's shadows, and his index finger wiggled along the trigger.
"No! I'm done here!" He screamed.
Hojo turned until Vincent saw his sharp profile.
Ready to pull the trigger, he shouted, "I'm taking Lucrecia and the baby-!"
A gunshot released.
What just happened? Vincent found himself unable to speak, his lungs no longer giving him enough air to say more when they jumbled in his head. Why couldn't he breathe?
He then felt it. His white, collar shirt grew wet. He looked down, and could only inhale half a breath when he spotted red. It pooled all over the white, until it touched his navy blazer.
Suddenly, Vincent's legs gave out, and they crumbled under him, letting him fall on the stained, cement floor with a croak. His gun skittered across the floor towards Hojo's feet.
The baby started to cry, a horrific sound crashing through the humid air, until Vincent grew haunted by it. He rolled his head and looked up.
A blur of Hojo frowned down at him, still holding his pistol with smoke escaping from its barrel.
"Ah, but I'm not done yet," the mad scientist warned.
Vincent spat blood, unable to get up. Hojo's black shoes came closer, until they were only inches from his nose.
Please, for the love of God, stop that baby from crying.
Vincent's hands shook when they neared his ears, desperate to silence the pain.
"No. Make it stop..." he gasped, eyes wild. His shadows dispersed, coiling around his body to choke him, slipping into his gunshot wounds to inflict more poison.
Another gunshot, and another, and another.
It felt like how Vincent imagined being struck by lightning from the heavens, punishing him for falling in love, for caring about anyone apart from himself. The edges of his vision turned black, closing in like claws, slowly covering his eyes.
Vincent choked, trying to get up when adrenaline told him he could, but his body quickly shut down after the fourth shot, too much blood lost.
His thoughts became disorienting. He clenched his teeth, mouth gurgling with blood, and used all his strength to turn his head to look up at Hojo in the center of his limited sight.
"I'll kill you," Vincent declared with a mouthful of blood.
More of the darkness consumed him, the last being Hojo's smile.
"I doubt that."
He saw the edge of a pistol. Vincent let out his last gasp. For one remainder second of his life, which to his neurons, felt like minutes, he gave himself one last gift, the foggy scene of Lucrecia smiling at him when they met. The day was sunny, the sky entirely blue. Mt. Nibel still covered in vibrant pine and oak trees, they swayed behind her. It all looked like a dream, her hair blowing back from the summer breeze. Her hand reached out into his vision, her smile timid.
Hi, I'm Lucrecia, what's your name?
Lucrecia…
Bang!
The last of his senses, the echos of his child screaming.
...
I laced my hands over my lips. Quietly, a few tears tickled my cheeks, and I sniffed, trying to maintain myself.
"When I awoke, I found myself to be different. Hojo experimented on me, injecting monster parts and bits of Mako. When I found out Lucrecia was gone, I couldn't live on, but I was unable to die either, so I decided to sleep. For as long as I could. Maybe I was hoping I would never wake up. Who knows," Vincent told us. He let his golden claw tap at the rail nervously.
After a long time, his eyes shifted, and looked at me softly.
"I think you know what happened after that," he finished, and stared at the view again.
"Vincent, I..." Cloud rose, hands limp at his sides. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything."
I was frozen, almost wishing Vincent never told us his horrible past.
Before more was said on the matter, he pushed himself away from the glass and darted away in a flash of red.
"Vincent!" Cloud called, but he was already gone.
I stood, still holding my chest in case my heart spilled out, and shook my head at him.
"I'll talk to him," I whispered, though, I wasn't certain if that was best. Vincent may just want to be alone after sharing the deepest parts of himself, maybe already regretting it.
Cloud pressed his lips together and dropped his head, hands tucked in his pockets.
"If you think that's best."
As I walked across the bridge, Cid grumbled, "Man, that was a sad story."
Cloud replied, but his voice faded when I left, and aimed straight for the deck. It's not like it was Vincent's favorite place, but I could only assume he wanted fresh air. My guess was right when the door slid open, and there he was, looking over the rail. Winds blew in, pushing me back. I gave it a minute, watching Vincent lose himself in the expansion of dark blue ocean and light blue sky. Salty air and spray embraced my cheeks, throwing back my short hair and ruffling my sweats.
Vincent's cape shook in a disorganized fashion, violent in a way, like how its owner must've been feeling inside.
I took one long deep breath of salt air in my nose, and exhaled.
"Vincent."
He didn't even turn when I braved the steps to get nearer. I looked to the deck when I whispered, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you such a personal question."
Vincent blinked, pulled back from his daze with his profile in view. His hair tossed back and forth scattered, gauntlet hand curled tighter on the rail.
"If I wanted to avoid your question, then I wouldn't have answered it," he clarified.
I took a spot next to him and claimed the railing under my folded arms. The ocean seemed endless, the tiny waves nothing more than little flaps of white. I smiled at it, and took another generous inhale of fresh air.
"So?" I inquired.
"So?" Vincent mimicked.
I watched my fingers fold nicely, thawing a gentle thumb war with myself.
"Guilt is a funny thing," I started, not certain where I was going with this.
"It's toxic. Lucrecia, she kept feeling guilty, didn't she?"
Vincent turned his back to me, and ducked his head.
"I learned one night wasn't enough to suck out her poisons. In fact, I think I let it infest me. I still carry it around. I wonder who I will corrupt next. Maybe I shouldn't get close to anyone, ever. To stop the spread."
He then grunted from the push of my hold. I rammed my head into his cloak, my arms wrapped around his narrow waist from behind. I felt to be half his height, a child compared to him.
Vincent stiffened, afraid to move a muscle.
I closed my eyes tight, still seeing red, and sighed, "Don't worry. You'll love again. You need someone to help you lift that heavy ass baggage you carry around. And you'll enjoy how much lighter it will be."
Vincent scoffed, perhaps smirking.
"Your metaphors are intriguing."
I squeezed him tighter.
"Thank you for sharing your story," I whispered, still imagining a younger version of him helpless and in love.
Vincent's shoulders relaxed, and his steady breathing expanded his chest, stretching my arms. My hand felt the metal of a gauntlet hand, and then cold fingers curled over mine.
"You're welcome."
An image of a beautiful woman stuck to her bed due to post-partum sickness and the effects of the Jenova cells made my chest hurt. Was that going to be me? Will I have the same fate as Lucrecia? I squeezed my eyes tight, to banish the red. Save it for another day. Let this be Vincent's moment, not mine.
He added quietly, as though to let the breeze carry his words like a prayer.
"You know what? I never blamed her."
...
I never played "Dirge of Cerberus". I wonder if I would've written this differently if I did. Should I play it? 0_0
*Song choice: I can't Stop Loving You by Ray Charles - When Vincent gets shot.
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