Chapter Eighty-Two: Eternity
Vincent never thought twice about being Aralyn's caretaker. He couldn't bear the thought of her dying alone, forgotten, despised by those whom she had freely loved. Now, as her body was deteriorating, she needed a friend more than ever.
It was no longer a question of if she would die, he thought as he laid her in the bed and pulled the covers around her, it was a matter of when. The bed he was laying her in would be her deathbed. It didn't matter what kind of care he gave her, no amount of nurturing would spare her from her fate.
That didn't stop him from trying.
Aralyn knew that her demise was near.
Sometimes, on the rare occasion that she was awake, they would speak. For a while, they carefully avoided the subject of her state of being, but on the third day since her fall, she confronted the matter.
"Vincent, I'm afraid to die."
Vincent placed the cup against her lips and tilted it back, making sure she swallowed before responding. "I don't know any comforting words to give you, Aralyn. I'm sorry."
Aralyn gave a wry half-smile. "You'll never have to worry about this…will you?" She looked him earnestly in the eyes. "You're immortal. You'll live forever."
"Forever is a long time to be in pain, Aralyn," he replied.
"I just…I just wish he was here. He promised…he was going to be my angel…he told me he was going to be by my side…he promised…"
She didn't say any more, but he stayed by her side until her breathing was steady and even. She had fallen into a troublesome sleep.
He returned after a few hours with more food. He set it on her bedside table and gently put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. "Aralyn, you need to eat."
There was no response from her, even after he persisted for more than a minute.
He took both his hands on her shoulders, unaware of how tight his grip had become. He shook her as much as he dared, nearing the point of violence. "Aralyn," he called, stronger this time. "Aralyn, wake up!"
Her head lolled to the side limply and the tiniest breath escaped her lips. She didn't respond other than that.
She had slipped into a coma while he was away.
There was only one final gift he could give her.
Things were quiet at the Seventh Heaven after the encounter. Cloud never had anything but a deep scowl on his face, and he often disappeared for long lengths of time before showing up again, sleepless, agonized, exhausted. Everyone went through their work fluidly, silently, every second seemingly an eternity.
When they did speak, it most certainly wasn't about the battle with Sephiroth.
Marlene was playing half-heartedly with her stuffed moogle, flopping the pompom back and forth as if bored, when Cloud came in after one of his ventures. Marlene got to her feet and silently threw her arms around his legs, her face barely coming up to his thigh. He paused, seeming taken aback, but then reached down and ruffled her hair. "Hey, Marlene."
Tifa looked up from the dishes and gave Cloud the biggest smile she could muster, which was still painfully small. "Back so soon?"
Cloud nodded, his gaze still far off, and ascended the stairs, not greeting any of the others.
He didn't come back down until the next morning, but when he did, Tifa was relieved to see an expression other than anger or sorrow on his features. Now, he was simply and unmistakably confused.
"Was Vincent here?"
Tifa frowned. "Not that I know of. Why?"
"He left me his phone…and took mine." Cloud held up the thin phone, painted with the silver emblem of Cerberus. "He left a note. Said that he'd get it back soon, and that he owed me one."
"That makes no sense," Yuffie pointed out. "His phone is just as capable of making a call as yours is. And he could have come in here and asked like a half-respectable person!"
"Why would he take your phone?"
No one could answer.
It had taken Vincent nearly an hour, but his suspicions had proved correct. He had to dig through megabytes of stored calls to find it, but he had succeeded. He was thankful that Cloud was slothful when it came to cleaning out his phone's memory.
Without it, he would never have been able to locate Sephiroth's number.
It was odd to think that the General carried a phone, and even more strange to believe that once, before Nibelheim, Cloud and Sephiroth had been in contact because of the missions they served on together.
But it was the only way he knew of. Searching was out of the question; Sephiroth could be anywhere in Gaia by now.
He dialed without a second thought.
Vincent reached the answering machine three times before Sephiroth got the idea that he was not going to give up. "What?" Sephiroth said briskly.
"It's about Aralyn."
The irritability seemed swept away from the General's voice. The line was silent for a long time; so long that Vincent thought that Sephiroth had hung up. "What about her?" Sephiroth finally managed.