Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to the beautiful Square Enix. God bless you all. Haven't I said this before?

P.S: Don't mind my angst. Parents. Separation. Guess this is my one reason I keep going strong. (Smiles)

P.P.S: Before I forget... (Takes Sephiroth and slaps him across the face) You'll understand.

Chapter Six:

It was Saturday, and Vincent was going to go buy more marijuana from his 'drug dealer', Sephiroth. He always sat in an alleyway, willing to give people drugs for a price. A high price. Vincent was gonna try to make a deal with him because his paycheck dropped more than 20 percent since he started being late to work. Putting the money in his pocket, along with a pack of cigarettes, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. 'God, Vincent! What are you doing! This isn't the way to live life!' he thought to himself. He just shook his head and walked out the door. He knew that if Lucrecia ever saw him doing this, she'd never want anything to do with him.

'Who could want a druggie?'

Vincent slowly, and casually walked into Sephiroth's alley. Sephiroth sat there between two trash cans, smoking. It was dark, shadows covered everything. Sephiroth's long silver hair fell over his shoulders, his arms resting on his stomach. He looked over to Vincent, and stood up. Vincent walked over to him, keeping his head down. "Look, I need more marijuana, but I might not have enough money.." he said. Sephiroth stood slightly taller over Vincent. He shrugged. "How much you got?" he asked.

Vincent took the money out of his wallet, and handed it to him. Sephiroth stood there, flipping through the dollar bills. Each time, he would start shaking his head. He made this little click noise with his tongue. Vincent sighed. "My paycheck dropped cause I was always running late," he said. Sephiroth held the money, not looking at Vincent. "Look, if you can just give me the drugs, and I'll pay you back. I swear," Vincent continued.

Sephiroth looked at Vincent. "200 dollars, Vincent?" he said. His voice was letting him know that he thought he was pathetic. "That's all I could make! Why can't you just give me the damn drugs and I'll give my next paycheck to you?" he replied. Sephiroth smirked, shaking his head. Just then, he pushed Vincent up against the wall, holding his arm against Vincent's throat. Vincent grabbed his arms, trying to get him off. "I don't work like that, you know?" Sephiroth said, smiling as he watched Vincent struggle for air. "You don't tell me how to do business, alright? I get ALL my money, you get your drugs. If I don't GET all my money, you don't get your drugs!" he said. Vincent tried to pull his arms away. Sephiroth smiled, and let him go.

Vincent slid to the ground, gasping for air. Sephiroth towered over him. "You give me my money, you get the drugs, got it?" he said. Vincent glared at him through his weak eyes. Sephiroth chuckled and went back deeper into the alleyway, leaving Vincent alone. Vincent got up, and walked out of the alleyway.

That night, he sat on his bed alone. The moon shined it's white light into the dark abyss that was Vincent's room. It still seemed to do no good. Darkness was everywhere, in the shadows, on the walls, in empty shell that was Vincent's heart. He sighed, rubbing his head. He needed a joint. He needed something. Something to hurt him, maybe make him numb, to take away the pain that wouldn't go away. It still lingered, no matter what weapon he chose to fight with.

He opened his drawer, and pulled out the gun that awaited. Black, big, just what he needed to end it. Or at least scare him back into reality. Holding it in his hands, he let random thoughts race through his mind. He thought about school. He thought about Cloud. He thought about the drugs, the booze, the destruction... He thought about his father. 'Why so soon?' he said to himself. Nothing answered. Nothing made a sound. Nothing but the sound of the cold clood that ran through his dead veins. He looked at the gun, then held it to his head.

"It only takes one, Valentine," he said to himself. He squeezed the trigger slightly, but then pulled his finger away.

'...and I'm Lucrecia.' Those words he remembered seemed to stop the world around him. He could still hear the angel's voice.

'I'm Lucrecia... Lucrecia Crescent.' He wanted to remember those words for as long as he lived. They echoed over and over, no matter what he wanted. Her voice was like heaven to him, the light that guided him in the darkness. Her presence was one that he didn't want forgotten. Her face, he imagined seeing her as she helped pull him out of his own darkness, and hid him from his worst enemy, his own reflection. 'Stop kidding yourself, Valentine,' he thought to himself. He held the gun to the side of his head again.

'Oh, hi. I knew you looked familiar...'

Those words forced him to pull the gun from his head again. "I'm familiar to her," he whispered to himself. Sure it was only a little thing, but it meant the world to him. Someone actually recognized him after seeing him, not rejecting him. That was a first. He sighed and put the gun back in his drawer, leaving it be for the rest of the night. But what he didn't let be were his thoughts of her. The girl that might be his guardian angel, his light in dark times, the one who could save him...

As he slowly laid down and fell into a light sleep, her words to him echoed in his head over and over...

'Oh, and I'm Lucrecia..'

'..Lucrecia Crescent.'