Disclaimer: Characters in this story are copyrights of Square Enix. They are by no means mine. Only the storyline belongs to me. If by any chance I have used any ideas similar to those of existing authors, please inform me so that I may change the details. If there is no notice, I will take it that usage of the idea is permitted. Thank you.

Legend

"…" conversation

'…' thoughts

break

Second Chances

Chapter Six: Resolved

Sephiroth sat up slowly in his bed. It had been only a few days, but he seemed to be recovering well. Begrudgingly, he was grateful to the gunman for nursing him back to health. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he tested his legs gingerly. When he was sure they could support him, he stood up and took slow steps towards the table, where his black leather cloak was neatly folded. Three days ago, he was surprised to wake to a different surrounding, and learned later that Vincent had carried him from the shack to an abandoned but decent house in this nearby village. The former Turk had done it when Sephiroth was sleeping apparently, knowing full well that had he done otherwise, Sephiroth would cause a good deal of trouble. But the facilities of an average house were needed, and the shack they were living in could hardly provide those.

The door to his room creaked open, and Vincent stepped in. He showed no sign of surprise whatsoever at the sight of the silver-haired swordsman standing by the table. In his arms was a bundle of fresh clothes he had been able to salvage from the deserted cottage. Whoever who left this house was in a hurry and left the house as it was, together with his belongings. Whatever the reason, Vincent was grateful for their luck.

"You might find these useful, though I think they might be of slightly smaller size."

He and Sephiroth had managed to establish a civil relationship, both seeing no advantage from causing trouble and attracting any possible, unwanted attention. Honestly, Vincent was surprised the swordsman had yet to jump at his throat. He left the room, guessing that the man must want to change into something clean after spending days in that same outfit.

The moment Vincent stepped out of his room, Sephiroth gathered a towel and entered the bathroom. It had the necessities and Sephiroth wasn't about to complain when he could finally get himself cleaned up.

'Why, the water's even heated…' he mused silently, enjoying the steady rush of water over his body. The hot water was relaxing to his muscles, and for a minute, Sephiroth emptied his thoughts to enjoy the shower. Next, he took the bar of soap and began to lather himself. After the time he spent being stuck in that bed, this was quite a luxury.

Finally, having scrubbed himself squeaky clean, Sephiroth slipped into a pair of soft grey pants and a shirt. Vincent was right, the shirt hung a little short on him but the pants fitted well. Raking back wet strands of hair, he heard a knock on his door.

It was Vincent again, this time bearing a tray with food. His stomach took this opportunity to remind him of how hungry he was by letting out a very audible growl. Sephiroth could not stop himself from blushing, his usual mechanism of masking his expression failing him this once. Vincent noted this with interest; it was amazing how much more human the former general looked. It brought a small smile to his lips as he set down the tray.

"I want a reason."

Vincent looked up; Sephiroth bore the usual serious and cold expression.

"I want a reason why you're helping me."

Vincent thought for a long time, choosing his words carefully so as not to lose the fragile trust, if that was what they had.

"I…simply wanted to."

"Simply wanted to?" Sephiroth scoffed. "What a fine excuse!"

"I want the truth, Vincent Valentine. Surely, there must a far better explanation as to why you'd put your neck on the line for me?" Sephiroth sat down in his chair, crossing his legs and assuming a commanding air. "I can definitely put up a better fight now, compared to the last few days, but I would prefer to hear your reasons first. Why would you save your former enemy?"

"Because I believe…" Vincent looked at his clawed hand, clenching them. "I believe that you can be redeemed."

The way I can never be redeemed.

"You're lying. You're not looking at me." Sephiroth's tone was sharp.

"It is the truth, to me." Vincent lifted his gaze from his claw and met Sephiroth's eyes. "You were used by Jenova, that I believed. And that is also the reason you can be redeemed."

Vincent felt a dull, throbbing pain in the deep corner of his heart.

Lucrecia, I can never forgive myself, for the sins I've committed to you…

"What are you hiding from me, Vincent?"

"…Everything and nothing. I have no right to talk about redemption, for I am a sinner. But I know you deserve redemption. That is why I saved you. You deserve a second chance."

For a while, there was nothing but silence. Sephiroth appeared to digest his words slowly while Vincent lapsed back into his own thoughts, thinking that he had said too much on his part.

"A second chance…" There was no scorn, no sarcasm. Sephiroth said it more to himself than to Vincent. "Do I deserve it as you say?"

It was a new moon tonight, and Sephiroth stared into the darkness in the distance. The conversation he had had with Vincent was playing lightly in his mind. Was there any way he could have denied it? Any way at all to push away the uncomfortable truth mirrored in those crimson eyes? The truth that Sephiroth wanted to be forgiven, wanted to be able redeem himself yet he knew that he had done too much wrong to be delivered from these sins. The same truth that he sensed in Vincent's being.

He did not know what was in the gunman's past for him to have the same kind of eyes as he did. All he knew, from rumours and from bits of memories he glimpsed in the Lifestream that Vincent was once Lucrecia's lover. And loved her he did. Was that why he cared for Sephiroth? No, that was not it. Sephiroth was no expert in thought, but from experience, he knew how to tell if someone was lying to him, or to himself for that matter.

He could see, just for that one moment, that Vincent wanted freedom from the ghosts of his past, the same way Sephiroth did. And through this one similarity, he was bound to him for no one had ever been able to look past him and tell him that he deserved another chance. Not the way Vincent told him, not the way he meant it.

Suddenly, his door opened a crack. From the bed, Sephiroth caught sight of Vincent's figure, the ebony hair falling over his eyes. Sephiroth pretended to be asleep when he came closer, eyes shut. There was no noise, and then suddenly, Sephiroth felt the mattress shift. His eyes snapped open and he was staring right into Vincent's red orbs. The older man was crouching over him, straddling him.

Vincent Valentine couldn't control himself. When he mentioned this afternoon that Sephiroth deserved a second chance, he stopped himself from saying something else that was on his mind. Sephiroth deserved to be loved. Looking at the pale figure under him, Vincent could not imagine that anyone could resist being attracted to this beautiful being. Because that was what he was; beautiful. It was a shame that people should shun him because they feared his strength and superiority.

And the desire to tell Sephiroth exactly that overwhelmed him now like no other emotion. Seeing him this way reminded Vincent of himself, and with the realisation came such a powerful hunger for comfort that Vincent could not pull himself away from the mesmerising, questioning, maddening gaze. Because other than his certainty that Sephiroth deserved to be loved, there was also the knowledge that Vincent loved him. He did not know why, need not know anything now except that he craved his presence.

And with this thought in mind, gently, slowly, Vincent pressed his lips onto Sephiroth's. Catlike orbs widened at the unfamiliar intimacy; unfamiliar but not unwanted. The kiss acted like a key. The dam which Sephiroth held his emotions clicked open and his yearning for human warmth, long hidden away in the deepest part of his soul, returned with savage passion.

Vincent pulled away, crimson staring into emerald for any reaction, any form of reaction at all. And within Sephiroth's eyes, he detected the need, the longing, unmasked and open to him. Again he dipped his head, kissing him deeper, with unconcealed fervour that simply said that he wanted him, he needed him. Their tongues danced in desperation, wanting more of each other's soul, drawing what comfort they could from each other. And when the need for air finally overpowered the desire for comfort, they parted, lips glistening.

There was no need for questions. Whatever reasons they might have were written in their eyes, and they spoke through them, as though their souls were in contact and the need for words was nonexistent. Sephiroth felt a most unnatural feeling; he wanted to weep. The emotions that swept through him overcame him and affected him so intensely that he wanted to cry. But he did not. And when Vincent climbed into bed beside him, he allowed himself to let go of his defences. They spent the rest of the night in quiet companionship, understanding each other's silence, for it was merely each other's presence that they needed.

A/N:Whew, that's done...Holy Mother of Materia! I typed a whole chapter on Vincent and Sephiroth alone!Okay, this chapter is dedicated to all my readers, thank you for reading and reviewing all the time! They mean a lot to me and I look forward to your uh, patronage and opinions in the future! And SephVince fans! Hope this chapter was up to your tastes, because I'm still pretty raw at this. Anyways, thanks!