I don't own anything.
To Tasha: O Sister, how you took from me what I didn't even know I had.
Two: Medicine.
From Vincent.
She was so beautiful.
From the day I saw her, the day she walked into my life. The light she gave me saved me from the past. The light...
The angel. It took me a long time to see what she wished so desperately to give me. Why--I will never know. I do not see how any congnitive creature, much less this radiant beacon, could possibly want to offer me anything.
She offered me her soul.
It was wrong. He had taken something from her, and she felt to reach out to me. I was... overwhelmed. She deserved better than either of us, but she had chosen the warped, self-hating creature whose sickness would eventually take her, too.
Then I realized: she was medicine. He was sick, too, a long time ago. He needed her as much as I did. But only because she was the constant; the world could stop turning, but as long as she was there, things would work out.
But I needed her more. He was well. He could go his own way safely, no longer dependant on this masterful angel. And that hurt her; I will always hold this against him. She saw his betrayal, his leaving her as a sign of his apathy toward her. She saw his disconcern for her, for her career, for the children. He wounded her badly.
So she turned to me. "Vincent?"
"What is it, Tifa?"
"D-don't let m-me put you away. Don't let me g-give you up like I d-did for him. P-please."
I just held her. "Never."
She will never know how much I owe her. Ever.
Only the sick need medicine.
