Helloo again. Soon, I know. I guess it's to make up for the long wait you guys had to go through before I posted the last chapter.

I wouldn't mind a few ideas on how far I should go with this fic. I'm not quite sure where I should end it yet, although I have some ideas. So drop a note, you any one of you good people do.

Enjoy and Cheers!

Kyyrin

Chapter Thirteen

Vincent hurriedly traversed through the winding hallways of the destroyed WRO headquarters. Along the way, he had met backup that had come to help clean up a bit, salvage anything worth rescuing, and search for survivors of which there were few.

But as Vincent walked deeper into the building, where all the members, including Reeve and Shalua had housed, the rescuing troops had become scarce. Now there were none at all, and with good reason.

The residential area of the headquarters hadn't been cleared yet. There was still a chance that stray Deepground forces could be lurking in the passageways. And Vincent couldn't blame the people. They had possibly witnessed enough fighting and violence to last them a lifetime. So he figured while he was up here trying to salvage any of Reeve and Shalua's personal items, he might as well clear the area while he was at it. A few soldiers were no match for him. Besides. The crewmembers of the Shera who were helping with the evacuation procedures had advised to gather up any personal belongings. And since he wouldn't allow Shelke to go alone, and with Reeve being in no condition to walk far, he had taken it upon himself to complete the task. He had left Reeve in Yuffie's care, but not before informing paniced Sam of Reeve's whereabouts, asking her to escort him to a room where he would be comfortable. Vincent hoped his friend would finally be able to rest peacefully for a while.

Turning a corner, he stopped at his first destination.

Shalua's room. Swallowing the painful lump that had begun to build in his throat, Vincent pushed the half-open door open all the way, and sighed sadly at the sight before him.

Everything had been damaged beyond repair. The room had been ripped to pieces, no doubt by guard hounds of one form or another, leaving nothing but rubble and tatters. Vincent stepped in, and looked around, searching for at least something that might still be of use. He would have tried her lab, but he had heard from one of the backups forces that the labs were in this same state, if not worse off. Well, there was nothing to be done.

Turning to leave, a sudden flash of color from the shredded bedside table caught his eye.

Walking over, he leaned down and lifted to eyelevel a shattered picture frame. In it, was a still intact picture that was more vivid and lively than he assumed the entire room had once been. And when Vincent looked closer and saw exactly who the picture was of, he could not restrain his emotions any longer.

He had thought years of bottling up his feelings would prevent him from showing fear, anger, sorrow, sadness in even the worst situations. But this……….

Vincent finally broke.

A single tear slowly crept down his cheek.

The photograph was at fault. The circumstances. The situation, if you will. After seeing the state his best friend was in, and after helplessly standing by, unable to prevent a dear friend from dying, it had all become too much. It had been decades since he had last shed a tear. He had vowed not to let it slip unless the state of affairs was unbearable. And even then……..but it seemed he had reached his breaking point. Years of pent up sorrow and grief now threatened to overcome him. But he tried to restrain it as best he could……He really did………

The background was dazzling mountain scenery, the sun high in the sky. A small waterfall was off to the left, and the ground was littered with large, rounded rocks of all shapes and sizes.

The sight that made his broken heart shatter further, however, was the pair that was seated one two of the many rocks.

Shalua and Reeve sat together; arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace that seemed it could not have been broken by even the great Bahamut himself. It was the happiest Vincent had ever seen Reeve. The man looked relaxed, and at peace with the world, not at all his stressed out, run down self that Vincent was beginning to view as normal. His best friend was wearing clothes that Vincent had never seen him in before. Normal, comfortable clothing that matched his personality exactly. His forehead was rested against Shalua's head, and the smile he was giving the camera gave Vincent the impression that Reeve had felt that at that moment, as if he were the luckiest man alive. And Vincent knew that feeling well. He had felt it often when he had spent time with Lucrecia.

And Shalua. Another tear escaped him, and rolled down Vincent's cheek in a similar fashion as the last.

She too, was wearing different attire, and despite her one eye and mechanical arm, she looked all the more like the beautiful women that she was, and not like an overworked scientist in agony over the loss of her younger sister. No. Her face was snuggled up to Reeve's, and her arms, mechanical and non, were tightly wrapped around his waist, one of her hands stroking the back of his head lovingly. She had an expression of sheer joy on her face, and one could think she was a little girl all over again.

They had been so in love. Reeve had been so in love with her. And he still was. And she had loved him back with all her heart. Vincent figured one must be blind not to have noticed their complete and utter devotion to one another. How could he have possibly even suggested to Reeve that he move on just like that?

Vincent stared entranced at the picture, trying desperately to hold back any more tears that might find their way to the daylight. It reminded him so much of his past. He silently removed the broken frame, and taking one last look at the happy couple, he pushed the colorful item into a safe place underneath his cloak.

The picture, it seemed, had captured a magical moment in Reeve's life. It would no doubt bring back memories and tears, but of happiness. His friend would grieve, but he would always have something wonderful to remember Shalua by. Vincent could tell without asking that the day Reeve and Shalua had spent in those mountains had been a special one.

Yes.

If there was one thing that Reeve needed to find strength to move on, it was this photograph.

The tear had to be done. I won't believe that Vincent never cried in his lifetime after the coffin. Cheers!