Gifts and Uncertainty

"Say it for me/ say it to me/ and I'll leave this life behind me/ say it if it's worth saving me"

– Savin' Me, Nickelback

When Vincent reached the landing, Tifa was holding the phone a foot away from her ear, grimacing against Cid's obnoxiously loud voice. She glanced up at him, smile fading when she saw his change in countenance. She wordlessly handed him the phone and turned on her heel, descending the stairs. He gazed down on the hated contraption for just a moment before bringing it to his ear.

"Cid. Good to hear from you." He held the phone out to soften the inevitable reaction.

"Vince! Where the hell have you been! Everyone's been worried sick, I thought all the stress would send Shera right into labor and she's not due for another two months! Even Yuffie's going nuts and you know how that girl is! Needs some man–ninja to calm her right down!"

Vincent winced, just like Tifa. "Tell Yuffie I'm fine."

"Damn right I will! That girl's been a monkey on my back, trying to con rides outta me to look for your ass!" There was a pause in his tirade. "That reminds me, Shelke was asking about Mideel. You think it's safe for her to travel alone?"

Vincent shook his head at the phone. "Cid, Shelke is not a child. She survived the collapse of Deepground, I'm sure she can handle a trip by herself."

"Huh! I didn't think of it like that, I guess I'll call her back and arrange it for her." Vincent heard him shout off–line. "Shera, woman, sit back down or you'll pop like a damned balloon! I'll get the tea as soon as I'm done talking to Vince!" Cid returned to the phone. "Damn woman. Gotta be a boy she's carrying; big as a house. I guess I'll see you later, then? You gotta come visit us out here in Rocket Town." Cid dropped his voice. "Especially so maybe I can get out of the house for an hour or two? Her moodiness is driving me nuts!"

Vincent grunted his assurance. "After I'm done visiting Tifa and Cloud, I'll be out there, Chief."

"Good thing! Talk to you later!" And just like that, Cid was gone, making tea for his ever–patient wife. No matter what I do, you always make me smile, Cid. That go–get–'em attitude every time…

X

Downstairs, Tifa entered the kitchen to see Cloud shuffling through the refrigerator. "Snack time already? Aren't you supposed to be out on a delivery?"

Cloud straightened at her voice, giving her a sheepish grin. "I figured I'd take the day off to visit with Vincent." He put an apple on the kitchen table, and began rummaging for cheese.

"Or eat the entire contents of the fridge." Tifa eyed the apple, checking to see if Cloud had his back turned. She snagged it off the edge of the table. "He's changed a lot, hasn't he?"

Cloud turned, block of cheese in his hand. "That's my apple," he protested.

"Not anymore." She grinned at him before taking a bite.

He sighed and retrieved another apple. He stood next to her, resting against the table, studying the shiny skin of the fruit. "He has. He's… lighter. Just like I was." Cloud stared up at the doorway, as if expecting to see Vincent walk in at any moment, although they could hear his conversation from up the hall.

Tifa studied him out of the corner of her eye. "Still doesn't smile enough, though."

Cloud sighed. "I'm not sure if he'll ever smile on a regular basis again, Tifa. He still has a lot of weight on his shoulders." Before she could reply, he chuckled. "Though he did seem willing enough to give me unasked advice."

"Advice?" Tifa cocked her head at him, crossing her arms. "Advice on what?"

Cloud stuttered for a moment, before a faint pink hue came to his cheeks. "N...nothin', really, just, you know, guy talk."

Tifa turned to face him. "Now you sound just like Cid. 'Guy talk'." She snorted. "What did he tell you, Strife?"

"Nothing, Tifa, it was nothing." He wouldn't meet her eyes, and she knew Cloud well enough to realize he was lying through his teeth.

Vincent walked into the kitchen, and saw from the frustrated look on Tifa's face and the ecstatically relieved one on Cloud's that he had interrupted something, again. He chose not to attempt to salvage it this time, and crossed his arms in front of him, eyeing the two of them. He wasn't going to step in again, but he wished they would work it out between them. They deserved a happy ending.

And you don't?

He ignored the mocking voice in his mind.

Cloud cleared his throat and straightened, pushing away from the table. "Vincent… How long are you going to be staying with us? If I know Cid, he was probably trying to convince you to head out to Rocket Town so he'd have a good excuse to get away from Shera."

Tifa, her frustration with Cloud already forgotten, shook her head. "She'll never have another child again."

Vincent smiled dryly. "Likely not." He shifted his posture, letting his arms drop back down to his sides. "I told Cid I would be there in a week or so, as long as I wasn't overstaying my welcome."

Tifa sighed. "Vincent, you are always welcome here, for as long as you like." She smiled up at him. "You know that by now, don't you?"

He stared down at her, his face inscrutable, trying to reconcile his need for isolation and the desire to keep her friendship. Maybe it was time to try to define home again? Dare he be that bold, when it would be taken away again, if by nothing but time? He could not deny, though, that he had fallen into this mismatched family, of sorts. "I will remember that."

She smiled again, her whole face lighting up, and Vincent watched Cloud watch her, that slight smile on his face, and experienced a faint pinprick that was something like envy. He knew what it was like, to be blindsided by a woman's smile, to try anything to see it, just once more. The pinprick became a full pang. Despite everything I have, I still miss you…

Tifa returned to the kitchen with a nod, to prepare the children's lunches for their afternoon lessons. Cloud followed after her, still caught in the wake of her exuberant smile. Vincent retreated once more to his room, contemplating using the day to burn some gil he never used. He sat down on the edge of the bed again, already planning his purchases. He'd seen a plush chocobo in the window of a toy store that Marlene would adore, a mythril locket that'd be perfect for Shelke, maybe just a simple, bright bouquet of flowers for Tifa, something to match that sunny smile. A sleek flask for Cloud. And, of course, something for Cid and Shera and the baby. Vincent snorted. Bottle of whiskey for Cid and a bullwhip for Shera.

He lay back on the bed, carefully tucking his arms beneath his hair. Why did he feel the need to buy gifts for these people? Cloud was the closest thing he'd ever known to a brother; he'd been an only child in his previous life. He let a sardonic smile rest on his lips. Cloud had received his second chance from a woman whose capacity to love was startling; Vincent had no such savior. But he knew Cloud would help him, if he ever got the opportunity. Cid and Shera and blessing of a child, they were the buoyancy in his life, never wavering. Marlene and Shelke and Tifa…

Marlene was the future he hoped to see, Shelke held the key to the past he mustn't forget, and Tifa was the present, reminding him that he at least had something to live for, right now. And all three of them made up what he'd dreamt about and wished for and lost, Tifa with her never-ending kindness and light, Shelke and her ability to blaze forward, Marlene with her innocence and trust. As if Lucrecia had been reincarnated through them, a gift for him in this life he now led. Was it enough? Was that what had soothed his demons? He remembered the fears he had contemplated that morning, and despite their bleakness, he realized that they had been rooted in the future, not the past. He considered that to be a good sign.

Vincent rose from the bed to follow through with his plans for the day. He paused when he saw himself in the mirror, his red cloak and shining gauntlet. Well, there's nothing I can do about that, but maybe I shouldn't wear something so noticeable. People are bound to recognize me now. So he borrowed a jacket from Cloud, one long enough to cover Cerberus, and traded his armored boots for a pair of Cloud's heavy ones. Maybe I should expand my wardrobe while I'm out.

Vincent left the house, slightly cheerful, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He spent an hour or two in Edge's business district, purchasing several things for his friends, as well as a new pair of boots and a dark jacket that brushed his ankles. He returned to Tifa's, leaving her bouquet in its vase on the counter top in the bar, and placed Marlene's stuffed toy on her bed. He held Shelke's necklace up to the light, watching it swing and glimmer, and realized he was looking forward to giving it to her.

When he entered the living room, Tifa glanced up at him, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Would you mind walking the kids home from class? I've fallen behind on things here and Cloud had to make an urgent delivery."

Vincent nodded, and soon, things became routine. The five of them would have breakfast together, Cloud would go off to his deliveries, Tifa would hand out chores until she'd walk Marlene and Denzel to school, returning to open the bar, and Vincent would walk them home, keeping an eye on them until Cloud came home. And every night, he'd go to sleep, feeling like it was a little bit easier to move forward the next day. His nightmares would come, but before they could begin, before he heard the first echo of Hojo's laughter, that muted light would fill his mind, and he'd slip back into sleep. A week went by in something, Vincent thought, was much like peace.

Until one time, while he napped in a quiet moment on the couch, before he lost his grip on her presence, he asked her: Why do you still give me this?

And he was sitting in her cavern again, one leg stretched out in front of him, other bent up so he could rest his clawed arm. I am moving on from the past, he continued, isn't that what you wanted? Not to punish myself anymore?

He felt her hesitate, and his attention shot up to her frozen features. He sensed uncertainty, and didn't know what to make of it. Didn't you want me to let you go?

Yes, Vincent, came the tentative reply, but what if I realized… what if it was I that couldn't let you go?

Lucrecia… he demanded softly, unsure of both himself and her, afraid of the ambiance in the air. What exactly do you mean?

Vincent… what if I…? Her next words froze him; shock instead of crystal.

"Vincent…"

What was going on? That wasn't her voice. How could he even hear it through the haze his world had become?

"Vincent…"

He snapped his eyes open, and before his conscious caught up with him, he was on his feet, gripping Tifa's shoulders tight enough to make her utter a small cry. He grunted in turn as she firmly planted one fist in the center of his chest, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to give herself the space she needed should she have to defend herself. He managed to force himself to be coherent enough to recognize her face, and he loosened his grip. She must have seen the waver in his eyes, because her expression changed from wary to concern and her hands reached out to steady him at his hips. He faintly noticed a smudge of blonde from the corner of his eye, and that lucid part of him recognized Cloud's presence a few feet away. That same part was grateful the kids weren't present.

His subconscious, that instinctual element in him, had assessed the new knowledge and recognized that it had little bearing on his survival in a split second, remaining calm. The rest of him, that part that made him push forward and made him torture himself, was too scrambled to pretend. He felt something he couldn't comprehend, something warm as the breezes in Costa del Sol, icy like the snowdrifts from Gaea Glacier, vast as Cid's beloved space and as confining as the fitted corners and soft velvet lining in the coffin he'd spent thirty years in. Something bright and dark and terrifying and comforting, edges grating like sandpaper but smooth as Wutai's finest silks. It began to fill him, to swell, deep inside the root of him, expanding through his hips, spreading through his belly, pressing into his ribs. He found he couldn't breathe. It pushed into his throat, sealing it shut, swimming behind his eyes, making his vision blur, exploding out his fingertips and crawling across the back of his neck and up his scalp. It made him pant and panic and want to scream, and last of all, it took one of Tifa's tiny sewing needles and slithered it through the central chambers of his heart, causing every ounce of his hellishly enhanced blood to crystallize in his veins, and for the first time in all of Vincent's long years, he thought he might shatter in a million shards, each piece reflecting a memory of what he thought he'd lost for always.

When the room shifted, he wasn't sure if it was real or imagined until he felt Cloud's strong hand grasp his shoulder. He forced his vision to focus once more, and he zeroed his eyes in on Tifa's lovely face, Cloud's right beside hers, both piercing him so hard that he could feel their stares on the backside of his skull. Vincent gazed up at them from where he crouched on one knee, returned the stare of two of the people who taught him how to have a purpose and hold on when everything collapsed around you, how to move forward with your head down and weapon up. The two people that had shown him how to live again but not to hope again. The feeling threatened to choke him out once more, dangerous and slippery and overwhelming, and he wondered if this consumed them everyday as it was attempting to obliterate him now. "Tifa… Cloud…" he swallowed, surprised to find his voice still worked. He steeled himself against the astonishment that rose like a wave again.

"She… she said that there's a way she can return to me…"