A baby was crying…crying…crying. "Aiden!" Vincent shouted, sitting straight up. He was taking deep, gulping breaths and as he looked around, he noticed that he was not in the ShinRa Tower. The familiar mist swirled around him, but it was more like dry ice smoke now and not the freezing moisture it had been in his dreams.

"He's dead," said a deep, familiar voice off to his right, just beyond the roiling mist. "And to answer your question: not yet, but you're close."

"Sephiroth?" Vincent queried hesitantly, slowly getting to his feet as he peered into the nothingness beyond.

"Over here."

Cautiously, Vincent took a step forward and to his right, then another, and another until a shape, reclining against an invisible wall finally manifested itself. Startled, he stopped and looked down at his demon. From the waist down, Sephiroth had faded to a bare outline of what he had been, and when he looked at the man's face, he noticed the hollow cheeks, and the eerie eyes with their slivered pupils were sunken and glazed. "What happened to you?" he breathed.

"You happened to me, Vincent," Sephiroth said without rancor. "Do you have any idea how much energy it takes keeping a soul bound to its body? And don't look at me like that. You couldn't possibly comprehend what I'm talking about so I won't bother trying to explain it to you." With a wince, Sephiroth weakly resituated himself.

"So I'm…dead?" Vincent asked, mildly confused.

Sephiroth snorted. "Did you not pay attention to what I just said? No, not yet. Look over there." He jerked with his chin, and Vincent followed the man's eyes.

No way, he thought as a rectangular glow flared brighter for a moment. Talk about being in a bad movie. He squinted his eyes as he noticed shadows flitting back and forth just beyond the light. He was overcome with an almost unnatural curiosity to go and see what they were doing, almost like a compulsion. Then he heard a woman's merry laughter and a delighted shout, "Vincent! There you are! Come! Your son wants to see his father!"

"Lucrecia!" he shouted, a brilliant smile splitting his face and making him glow inside. He took a step towards the door, but a cold, clammy hand on his wrist stopped him.

"Vincent," Sephiroth said wincing as though in pain. "Think carefully about what you are doing. You are not dead, you can go back. I have bought you time."

"But why would I want to go back? I've waited for this moment for fourteen years! You know this better than anyone!"

Sephiroth released Vincent's wrist, staring levelly at the man he had called "father" for ten years of his life. The only man to look upon him with fondness, and at that moment, he put aside his rage, his burning, all-consuming desire for revenge, and his need for Vincent to complete what he had promised, in favor of the needs of another. "Can you really think of no reason to go back?"

That simple question hit Vincent like a shot of cold water to the face. He looked back over his shoulder in the direction he had come and noticed for the first time the darkness. It was cold and unknown, lonely and there was no guarantee of happiness and every promise of more pain. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. "Cid," he breathed and shut his eyes.

Back in the waiting room, Tseng had just managed to force down the food that tasted more like cardboard and smelled only slightly better than old gym socks, when a flash of pink made him jerk his head up. Black eyes widening in surprise, he stood up after setting his plate down several chairs away. "Aerith!" he called, at a loss for words, but irrationally overjoyed that she came back. "You came back." He held out his hands to her, unmindful of his uncharacteristic display of feeling in front of the others. He was so focused on Aerith's return that he missed Reno's open-mouthed gawk, Rude's snort and Verdot turning away and hiding an expression of pain. "Why?" he asked dumbly, kissing her cheek when she took his hands.

"Turns out I can't stay away," she said lightly, giggling again as she took in the reactions of the others. "Move, Cid," she said, nudging his half-asleep form with her foot. "You have your own man. No need to hog mine."

Cid stuck out his tongue at her in a display of childish annoyance, but moved anyway. The floor wasn't really all that comfortable, after all. He stood and, after throwing away Tseng's leftovers and leaving his tray somewhere inconspicuous, claimed the three seats on the man's other side, head in his lap just to get back at Aerith. "Better? I moved."

Startled and mildly panicked, Tseng lifted his arms and blinked. He looked at Aerith for help, unmindful of Reno's snickers that turned very quickly into laughter as the tension from the last several hours finally, finally broke. "Uh…"

Cid grinned up at Tseng. "Aw, don't mind me. Just gettin' comf'table. Ain't gonna bother ya, is it?" Tseng's legs were, somehow, bonier and more uncomfortable than Vincent's. He'd move when he got bored with annoying Aerith.

The woman in question simply giggled again and grabbed one of Tseng's hands. "Scratch behind his ears. He likes that."

Cid noticed Tseng's scowl as she directed him to run his fingers through Cid's hair, but he also saw as the scowl gradually softened into something almost fond. Aerith let go of the captive hand, but Tseng continued even without her guidance. Cid caught himself feeling drowsy, but before he fell asleep, he said sadly, "Yer hands're like his," as he held the bandersnatch more firmly against his chest and snuggled more comfortably against Tseng's thighs, head turned so he could look out at the passing employees and late-night patients and visitors.

You poor man, Tseng thought, finding peace in the motions of the stroking. He could see why Vincent enjoyed being around him so much. There was something…calming about him. Leviathan give you strength, my friend.

"He's pathetic, useless…and an idiot."Verdot said coming up to stand looking down at Cid's sleeping face, disgust written plainly on his scarred face. "Why does Vincent even tolerate being in his presence?"

Tseng didn't look up. He understood Verdot's malice and disapproval, having felt them once himself toward the man whose head now rested in his lap. He kept stroking gently and said softly, "Do you think you know how to measure a man, Verdot? Must he have a body count to be considered worthy?" He looked up then into the other's eyes. "Have you considered that it might be far more difficult to save a man than it is to take his life?" He looked briefly at Aerith, then back at Cid, strangely moved to see how tightly he clutched the stuffed bandersnatch. "Vincent is…" He cleared his throat. "I have known Vincent for over twenty years. He's like the little brother that I never had. Mr. Highwind has only known Vincent for a couple of months and yet he has been able to do in that short amount of time what I could not in the same number of years. Why is that, do you think?"

Verdot, chastened, remained silent. He hadn't known Tseng had felt that way toward Vincent, and a part of him regretted harshly passing judgment on something he knew nothing about.

"I have thought about it a great deal, and have decided that Mr. Highwind's strength lies somewhere else. He fights on a level that we cannot possibly comprehend." His hand stilled and he looked back up at Verdot levelly. "But I do know this: we would all be gods-blessed if we had someone wanting to love us as much as he loves Vincent. And for that, I cannot pass judgment, nor fault him. Indeed, I find myself in debt to him, and it is a debt I bear with pride."

The night passed rather horribly for all of them. Cid had found himself awake at a very early hour, and had gone wandering around the hall they were in, dodging people in scrubs and staying far away from automatic doors or doors with alarms. He had, in effect, paced the same hallway up and down for nearly two hours before any of the others showed signs of life. When, passing by the waiting room, he had seen a few pairs of eyes blinking sleepily, he had taken the seat behind the help desk and watched them all wake up. The chair was one of those swiveling office things. He'd always wanted one of those.

Tseng's back hurt, and his eyes were gritty and burning. Aerith had taken Cid's place with her head on his lap and it was her hair that he was stroking now, marveling at just how soft and shiny it was. But she was beginning to stir too, and he lifted his arm to let her up. "Are you all right?"

Before she could answer him another attending physician approached them, holding a clipboard. "Excuse me, I'm Dr. Sears. Are you all with Mister…" he checked the paperwork. "…Valentine?"

"That's correct." Tseng said rubbing an eye. "How is he?"

"No change," the doctor said with resignation. "And his lungs are still not functioning on their own, but for the time being he is stable, but far from out of the woods. Dr. Bugenhagen okayed him for visitors, but only briefly and only a couple at a time. Who wants to go first?"

Tseng looked over at Cid. "Go on."

Cid shook his head and laughed nervously. "Y'know I never visited nobody in th'hospital b'fore? You go on. I think I…need a few minutes." When Tseng tried to protest, Cid shook his head again, more firmly this time. "Go see 'im. Tell 'im I'm on m'way."

Tseng hesitated a second longer before he rose and joined Dr. Sears as they walked down the hall toward Vincent's room. "Does your friend know that Mr. Valentine is in a coma?"

"Yes," Tseng sighed. "He is just…hopeful. And I would ask that you let him have his hope. He cares very much for ."

"I understand," Dr. Sears said seriously. "So often, hope is all we have. Here we are. Try and limit your time please, we don't want any unseen stress for the patient, but we also realize that sometimes it are those that care for the patient that make the biggest difference, which is why we are allowing visitation."

"Understood." Tseng said, stopping just in the doorway as Dr. Sears moved off back toward where the others were waiting. He was suddenly very frightened to proceed. He was afraid that if he did, it would harm Vincent in some way, and his shame at his failure to protect his friend crushed him. He didn't feel worthy to stand before Vincent. But in the end, he entered the dimmed hospital room.

He stilled immediately when he saw what was left of his 'brother' lying on the narrow bed before him. The first thing he noticed were the plethora of hoses: saline lines, blood lines, plasma lines, antibiotic bags, catheter lines hanging just below blanket level and he winced at that…the indignity of not even being able to go to the bathroom, but instead having a plastic tube shoved invasively into the body. There were plastic-covered wires and electrodes placed on flesh that was not covered by the heavy bandaging wrapped around Vincent's thin chest, and the quite beep-pause-beep-pause-beep of the heart monitor would drive him crazy if had to listen to it for very long. Accompanying the beeping heart monitor was the soft whoosh and hiss of the ventilator that feed oxygen into the tube down Vincent's throat and into his lungs, which in turn kept the man alive. While he had been in surgery they had installed a feeding tube in anticipation of an enduring coma. But what had him fighting tears was Vincent's pale, lifeless face. Even in this unresponsive condition the man was still beautiful, his face nearly porcelain, and the thick black lashes stood out in startling contrast to the tone of his ashen skin. His eyes were sunken, and his hair was matted with dried blood in places and in others stuck to his high forehead.

"Oh niisan," Tseng said, walking as though in a daze to stand over his friend. Shutting his eyes he lowered himself to his knees and rested his forehead against the bed by one of Vincent's limp hands. Carefully he took that hand and kissed the back of it. "Forgive me…little brother." For several minutes he held the back of Vincent's hand against the tattooed bindi on his forehead before he rose and tenderly brushed a strand of hair off of Vincent's neck. "I have failed you, Vincent. Please live so that I may regain my honor, and once again be able to hold my head high with pride to be your friend." He laced their fingers together and he hoped that Vincent could feel some of his warmth. "We have been through much together, you and I." He swallowed and actually choked on the last words he said: "Cid is here. He asked me to tell you that he is on his way."

Some time later, after much prodding –and eventually outright scolding- from Aerith, Cid ambled aimlessly toward the door of the room he knew contained Vincent. Clutching the bandersnatch more tightly than the design anticipated, he finally worked up the courage to knock and then open the door a crack. When Tseng made no move to stop him, Cid stepped inside. His eyes widened as he took in all that was in the room. He took a step back and nearly dropped the stuffed animal as his heart beat its way into his throat. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Vincent that he'd seen unpleasant things, but this…this was somehow more horrific than all of those combined. Something he'd been fighting nagged at him now: Vincent had a very slim chance of surviving this.

"I-" Cid swallowed with great effort but made no move to step forward. "I don't think I've ever been s'scared as I am right now," he whispered, not really speaking to Tseng but not caring that he heard. He wanted to go to Vincent, but somehow he felt it would be safer to keep a distance, so he did. "I'm gonna…stay back here. I don't wanna…don't wanna hurt 'im."

Tseng turned and faced Cid, his heart going out to him. "It's one thing to see it, but when it's someone you love, it takes on a whole new kind of fear, doesn't it?" He walked over and purposefully stood between Cid and Vincent. "Don't stay away from him. If he's ever needed you, it's now, more than ever." He stood to the side. "Go on. Touch him, talk to him…let him know you're here." He gave Cid a gentle nudge on the back. "You'll hurt him by staying away."

Cid turned mournful eyes on Tseng, but gave in and slowly made his way to stand at Vincent's side, banderstatch dangling unnoticed from one hand. With the other hand, he carefully reached out and touched Vincent's face, looking at anything but what was in front of him. He had no words at all for this, and he doubted that he could have spoken them if he had. "I can't," he told Tseng, turning around to face him again. "He can't…" Cid said desperately, gesticulating with his free hand. "Don't know what t'do. I never cared about nothin' b'fore, not even m'own self. Thought I did, but now I know I been savin' it all up fer him."

His sadness caught up with him, and he had to blink back tears as he set the bandersnatch on a chair across the room and returned to the bed and sank to his knees only inches from where Tseng had knelt before. He had both hands free now, but nothing to do with them but keep them stiffly at his sides as he stared at the dying man before him.

"What would you do if he could speak? If he could see? Do that now." Tseng said and came up to stand next to Cid, briefly touching the man's head. "I wish- I wish you could have seen his face when he would speak about you. It was never much, he was never one to share information about himself…at least to me," Tseng amended softly. He chuckled quietly. "Most of it was venting frustration, but his cheeks would flush, and his eyes would come alive. I've waited so long to see that again. I can't imagine what he'd been through for the ten years he was missing, but whatever it was it had all but killed him. I kept hoping I would see some spark of the man he had been, but…" Tseng shook his head. "I had all but given up hope…until he met you. He's still in there, buried by pain, tormented by loss and guilt. But you showed him the way out. Help him out of the darkness again, Cid." Taking a chance, Tseng knelt by Cid and firmly took one of the man's hands and raised it to place it on top of Vincent's. "Let him know you're here."

Cid shook his head. "No. Y'don't see. This is th'darkness fer him. It has been for so long. I wouldn't be helpin' 'im out of it, I'd be draggin' 'im back in," he said quietly as his fingers gingerly stroked over the back of Vincent's hand. "How long will…they give 'im b'fore they give up? 'Cause dammit…I don't wanna let 'im go, but I don't wanna see 'im hurt anymore. And he will, if he comes back. I don't know anymore which'd be worse." A few morose, quiet moments passed as Cid finally dared to let his eyes find Vincent's still form. He staggered to his feet and leaned in carefully to press his mouth against the ear closest to him. "I won't leave, Vincent. I'll be here until it's over, one way or the other."

He kissed Vincent's cheek as he pulled away and resumed his position, and a small smile, fond but sad, found its way to his face. "Last time, when…when y'were leavin' an' he came back? He talked to me, in his language an' yours. Do you…think he'd mind if y'told me what 'e wanted t'say?" Cid asked, now holding Vincent's hand in both of his.

Tseng turned around and leaned back against the footboard of Vincent's bed, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning as he thought, staring at the floor. Both he and Cid were crippled. He knew Vincent then, and Cid knew Vincent now, and as a result they were both getting it wrong. He chose his next words carefully. "I don't think either of us is in a position to know what is right for Vincent or not. Who are we to say that he would be miserable if he survived? Can you see into his mind? Because I cannot. You underestimate Vincent's character, and I cannot grasp his mind. But we both want the best thing for him. What I do know, is that he had changed since he had met you. Instead of brushing off the pain of his past, I think he's had to face it. You've done him a favor, Cid. He has begun to heal." Tseng fell silent a moment as he remembered back to yesterday. Finally he nodded again. "I don't think Vincent would mind, but Cid, I didn't hear a word of it. Can you remember any words?"

Chastened by Tseng's slice of reality, Cid let his eyes drop until he was looking at the floor. Tseng was right, of course. Cid had no right to say what Vincent wanted, or what was right for him, or anything. He had no right to say anything. "Maybe I don't wanna know after all," he mumbled against the cold plastic frame of the bed. "If 'e wanted me t'know, he woulda told me so I c'd understand it. If it w's somethin' bad, I don't wanna hear it, an' if it was somethin' good…well, I don't think I c'd handle that right now. I don't think I c'n say it anyhow. I think I want 'im t'tell me 'imself, if 'e makes it. An' if 'e don't…maybe I'll ask ya again some other time." There was another question he wanted to ask Tseng- another one he was not sure he wanted answered. "If…if he does come back but he's not…okay, like, if somebody has t'take care of 'im fer a long time, or even always…y'won't make me stay away from 'im, will ya?"

"No," Tseng replied softly. He hadn't thought of that, if Vincent would come back 'whole' or not. But it didn't change anything; if there was cerebral damage or not, he would still take care of Vincent. "I'd need your help if that were the case Cid." He dropped a hand to rest companionably on the blond's shoulder. "But it would appear that one thing did not change about Vincent. He has always had a hard time…telling people things; important things that they usually need to hear. I've never been able to figure out why, but I think it might have something to do with the fact that he does not feel worthy of peoples' affection. He's afraid, and he hides, either through actions or words. Which of course is preposterous, but would he ever listen to me?" Tseng snorted and rolled his eyes. "Of course not."

Cid remained silent, hardly thinking. His world was so quiet suddenly, so empty, and he knew he would be unable to bear it if Vincent did not return and fill it again with the feelings and sounds from the stolen moments they had so greedily taken. He gave a weary sigh and mimicked Tseng's position sitting on the floor, accidentally dislodging the man's hand from his shoulder in the process. He hadn't even noticed it until it was gone. That set off another aimless thought. "They say y'don't realize what y'have until it's gone, but dammit, I always knew. Always knew what he was t'me. What I don't know is what t'do now, an' what t'do if he does go. Know what else I don't know? A hell of a lot o' things. I don't know a thing about Vincent, y'know that? Not a damn thing. Sometimes I wonder if that ain't what 'e likes best about me."

"Perhaps," Tseng said, pushing away from the bed to walk over and grab the plastic chair that rested in the corner. He set it up where he had been standing and took a seat, resting his hand on Vincent's blanketed shin while the other hand began mindlessly petting the stuffed bandersnatch he had moved to his lap in order to sit down. "He hates himself, holds himself responsible for things that are out of his control. And he thinks that if he shares anything of himself, then that person will hate him too. It's bold of me to say that, and perhaps I'm misinterpreting what I see, but it's in his eyes. He's always been that way." Tseng sighed and sat up and back. He shut his eyes as years came back to him. "His was such a bright future," he said sadly, opening his eyes again to look at Vincent's slack face. "He was a dreamer, Cid. As a child, he was always thinking of ways to make things better, and he had me convinced that one person could make a difference. That's what attracted me, I think, made me want to protect him. He looked at everything with such wide-eyed wonder, that I couldn't stomach the thought of someone taking that innocence away from him. I knew what the world could do to a person. I came from a single parent home, my father had run away shortly after I was born and my mother just couldn't handle the stress of raising a child and working, so she turned to drinking and from five-years-old and on I was taking care of her. Vincent never knew that kind of hardship. Oh, his parents were strict, don't mistake me, but they loved him. They nurtured him and encouraged him and he flourished as a result of it." Tseng fell silent, eyes unfocused as he remembered the kind of child that Vincent was, as he slowly stroked the unresponsive shin.

"Mm," Cid said distractedly, and then, "please don't touch 'im like that while 'e can't do anything about it. He don't like his legs bein' touched. Makes 'im nervous." Not that he could be nervous now, but still. "You c'n scoot over here an' hold 'is hand, if y'like. I'll move."

Tseng's eyebrow rose, but he had the good sense to hide his grin at how protective Cid was of Vincent. Respecting that, he bowed his head once and said. "All right." But he didn't want to make Cid move either, so he stood and replaced the chair, handing the bandersnatch to Cid and taking up a position on the wall. He watched Cid's face carefully as he continued. "Even so young, he was brilliant, skipping grades to become the youngest to be admitted into the Midgar Academy in its history. I was not so fortunate and had to continue back in Wutai with the rest of my age-mates, but Vincent was like clockwork with letters home telling me about everything that was happening in Midgar. I looked forward to those letters every week, until one year they started to become more sporadic, until they stopped all together. I remember being worried and writing to him to see if he was okay...by this time I had applied to the Medical University in the Capital and been accepted…and he wrote me back a long letter, telling me about Lucrecia." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and looked down at his feet. "He was in love, stupid in love, and she was all he could talk about. I was happy for him, and pretty much let him be. I had my own studies to attend to, but I did write to him and told him to bring her home so that I could meet her." Tseng grinned. "He did, the snarky bastard. That next holiday he brought her home, and with a ridiculously chivalrous grin on his face he presented her to me. She was a couple of years older than him, but a charming creature. I could see why he was so taken with her. I was two years into medical school when Vincent graduated top of his class in Midgar. He came home married and with every intention to begin teaching at the Wutai University, still firmly believing in making a difference. But the Emperor had gotten wind of him and his academic prowess and recruited Vincent as an advisor, again making history. His family was so proud. He brought honor to his house and his family so his marriage outside of the bloodlines was easily overlooked. It was as though everything he touched turned to gold! I was happy for him and yet extremely jealous. But how could you not be? He had everything! Family, a beautiful wife, a job that brought honor to his home…"

Tseng fell silent as the weight of what he was about to say settled upon his shoulders. "I was completing my third year of medical school when I realized the price of Vincent's success. He called me, one evening, ecstatic, saying that Lucrecia was pregnant. The idea of becoming a father changed him, matured him, and it became his sole reason for living. And it would be what killed him, in the end. Eight months later, Lucrecia gave birth to a baby boy, but the birthing process was too difficult and she died from complications. Vincent was crushed, utterly and completely crushed, and if it weren't for that child, he probably would have taken his own life. He told me, one evening that he felt responsible for her death, that if he hadn't gotten her pregnant then she would still be alive." He shook his head. "And then there was Ayden. He hardly put the child down; it was as though the baby was his last link to life…and sanity. But the gods weren't done with him. A month after he lost Lucrecia, Aiden died…and so did Vincent. I was there as he clutched that tiny, empty body and wept. He wouldn't even let me touch him. And then three days later after he released his son's ashes to the wind on the ocean, he disappeared. Just…gone."

Cid said nothing this time, but he thought about Lucrecia and Aiden. No matter how hard he tried, how much he reminded himself of what they meant to Vincent, he could not make himself care about them at all. No doubt it would have been different had he known Vincent at the time when it had all taken place, but for now, they were simply an obstacle he had to climb in order to get closer to Vincent.

There were several minutes of silence as Tseng collected and evaluated his memories. "Ten. Years. Mr. Highwind, I looked for the man who was more my brother than my friend. But every lead I followed turned up nothing. I had traced Vincent to a bar in the Wutai slums but after that, nothing. His family exhausted all of their fortune in trying to find him…it killed his mother, and his father fared little better. I had given up on medical school, Vincent meant more to me than that, and I searched until I just couldn't anymore. And I had to accept the fact that Vincent was dead. That's where this came from." He said, touching his bindi. "It's ancient custom to place a mark upon your forehead if you are missing a loved one. The tradition originated in the coastal fishing villages for those lost at sea. It just seemed…fitting for Vincent. I never told him that was what the mark was for, and don't plan to either. He'll just blame himself."

Tseng looked back down at the floor. "Then, ten years to the day he disappeared we had a horrendous thunderstorm. The entire year actually had been abnormal. But it was late, and I had been burning incense at the small shrine I had built for him, for the anniversary of his disappearance, and was about to go to bed when there was a knock on the collection of boards that I was using for a door. I answered it, and there was Vincent; naked, starved, shivering and completely soaked. He wouldn't look at me, wouldn't speak to me, he just stood there shaking and I distinctly remember not being able to see his eyes because of the long, matted hair in his face. I retrieved a blanket and brought him inside, drying him off as best as I could. Then I wrapped him in it and fed him all the meager food that I had. He ate it all. I tried to get out of him where he had been, but all he would say was, "Don't tell my father." I swore then and there that I would never leave his side, and a month later, I left with him for Midgar and the rest is torturous history."

Cid was silent a few more moments, wondering if Tseng was going to continue. When it appeared that he was not, Cid took a shaky breath and said, "Look, I…I appreciate you tellin' me an' all, but…now don't take this th'wrong way. I don't care. I mean, I'm glad t'know it, but it don't make a diff'rence t'me. I don't care about his past because it's enough for me that I have him now, and if he ever wants to talk t'me about what happened b'fore, that's his choice an' not yours. I'll listen to him the way I'm sure you planned fer me t'listen t'you. His story isn't yours t'tell. Maybe he never woulda wanted t'talk about it, an' that's okay too. I love the man he is now, and I love him no matter what. He knows, and you an' I both know, that the man you knew before is dead. If y're still hangin' onta him, I feel sorry for ya, 'cause y're missin' a damn good thing with who 'e is now." Piece said, Cid lapsed into silence again and held the bandersnatch against his face. "Y're still important t'him, an' I respect ya because you were with him through so much. But I gotta question now whether it was because o' him…or fer yer own self, because you didn't know what t'do without 'im. Not that I c'd blame ya either way," he conceded, aiming a wry smile in Tseng's direction. "I hope you understand what I'm sayin'. I ain't out t'hurt ya."

Tseng shook his head. "I know you're not. And perhaps I was living for myself for a time, I'm not perfect, Cid. I'm human, just like you are. But on one point, you are wrong. That man is not dead. He was just forced to grow up. To realize that the world is not the shining beacon of hope that he thought it once was. I was selfish to try to protect him from it, but if you had known him then, you would have understood why I did what I did. I was not telling you his story, I was telling you mine. Ten years is a long time to hurt, and an even longer time to reflect on things that perhaps should have been done differently. It's a long time to make sure a lesson is learned." He pushed off of the wall to walk over and stand over Cid. "Don't give me your pity, and don't presume to know why I stayed with him. He's my friend and I won't give up on him. I had so many opportunities to just walk away, but I didn't." He squatted down to be on eye-level with Cid. "So why did I tell you all of that just now? What was the point? I'll tell you." He stared levelly at Cid. "To really know Vincent now, you have to have known him then. That's who he is, under all of the layers of pain, behind every wall and barrier. I'm glad you love him as he is now, and you stand the best chance of reaching him. I tried, and I failed. But it doesn't make me love him any less. I want him to live again, and if that makes me selfish then I'm guilty and I'll shoulder the consequences of that gladly. But are you worthy of him, Cid Highwind? That's what you need to ask yourself. Can I relinquish my hold on him to you, and not fear what will happen? Vincent loves with his entire being, not just his heart. Keep that in mind, always." He stood up and turned towards the door. "I'm here for Vincent, and if he wishes me to leave then I will. Keep that in mind as well. I'll let you be alone with him now."

"Don't go yet," Cid whispered, and heard Tseng still to listen. "Look, we….we're not gonna see eye-to-eye on lots o' things, you an' me. Vincent's been th'most important thing t'you fer twenty years. And I'm not worthy of him. I never will be, because no one is. But like you, m'selfish, an' I reckon in the world we live in that's close enough." He smiled at the floor and said, "He called me 'baby.' Just once, but…only ever heard 'im talk like that about, y'know, her." Finally looking back up at Tseng, Cid asked, "If I tell ya what he said, will ya promise only t'tell me if y'think it's somethin' he'd want me t'know right now?"

Tseng looked back over his shoulder at Cid. "I suspect you are right, Cid. We come from two very different worlds, but I will make that promise."

Cid nodded, and then, in careful, broken Wutainese, did his best to repeat the words Vincent had spoken. He found that it was easier to remember them when he looked at Vincent.

Tseng stilled and he felt an unusual burn begin in his eyes. He never thought he would hear those words from Vincent again, even if Cid had them a little… skewed. He chuckled softly, "As much as I would love for him to have told you, 'My goat ate my underwear', I don't think that's what he said." He looked at the floor and said sadly. "His own feelings frighten him, Cid. That's why he told you in Wutainese." He grabbed the doorknob. He needed to leave the two alone. He repeated the last two lines, because they were the most important, and what Cid needed to hear. "He said, 'I love you, Cid Highwind…I love you." And without waiting for the man to reply, he quietly left the room.