Vincent Comes Home

VahlanaAngel--Hahaha! I want a harem of hot men! A friend of mine used to talk about how she had a 'man-stable' and every guy/character/celebrity she loves went in the 'man-stable' so she take them out and 'ride' them whenever she wanted. XD And no worries for Cid--his chapter is after this. :D

Nev--I'm glad I've been improving. That's why I started this--just as a whim and I've ended up with almost 260 pages of writing. It's been excellent practice for me. And I can hardly wait to start my next project. Thank you so much!

Maron--What happened? Did they delete your account by accident or something?

Ezekiel--Ah! I have seen that video! It's hilarious! But I've always kind of wondered (probably with ever FF fan) why did those monsters carry gil and items. So I put it in there as kind of a joke. :D My favorite quote from that flash though is, "But keep in mind they won't always work. I'm looking at youuuuu Aeris." Hahaha!

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I debated on whether to combine the next two chapters, but I decided not to--because I didn't want anything to take away from this one.
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...Her codename was Copperhead. Mine? Black Mamba.


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Tifa blinked and focused on the ceiling. It looked the same as her own, but it felt different. The room had a different feeling to it. A yellow light was on somewhere to her left. Otherwise, the darkness seemed absolute. No daylight came in through the windows.

It must be night.

“Tifa?”

Tifa came back to reality. She looked over.

Vincent was sitting by her bed, watching her. He looked tired and ragged and his claw—

His claw?

She pushed herself up. “Vincent, where’s your claw? What happened?”

He blinked at her and then a very gloomy look came over his face. “You don’t remember?”

“About your hand?”

“That’s not important right now, Tifa.” He paused. “How do you feel?”

“All right,” Tifa replied, although there was a tremor to her voice. She looked around. “Why am I in your room?”

“I thought it best, rather than taking you to your own. I thought you would…be upset.”

“But…why?”

Vincent furrowed his eyebrows at her. “Cloud, Tifa.”

And suddenly it slammed into her brain. Everything. The fight. The City. Holy. The light. Cloud, lying prone on the dais. Barret shaking his head.

No Tifa. He’s…’e’s gone

She gasped for a breath, feeling a lump in her throat. It came with a rush, as if speeding up from her toes. Everything before her was blurry. She wasn’t really seeing anything anymore. She pulled her legs up to her, looping her arms around them. She breathed in and whimpered. The sobs welled up in a wave and overwhelmed her.

She felt arms slide around her. For a moment, they were Cloud’s arms. No. No they weren’t.

Cloud is dead.

That only made her cry harder. She leaned against a shoulder and someone stroked her hair. She was handed some tissue and she blew her nose and laid her head back down against the shoulder. She could see dark cloth and she suddenly smelled the sweet scent of chocolate.

Vincent…

She sat up from him. She smiled miserably, still crying. “I can smell your chocolate.”

Vincent was blinking quickly. He smiled sadly for her. “Would you like a piece?”

Tifa bit her lip and nodded, keeping her mouth closed to stifle her crying.

Vincent sat next to her on the bed and opened up his suit jacket. He took out the chocolate that Yuffie and Reno had given him and unwrapped a bar. He broke a piece off and gave it to Tifa.

She took it. It was very soft, probably from being in the pocket. When Tifa put it in her mouth, she could hardly taste it. She smiled, her shoulders shaking. “It’s good.”

Vincent put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “You can have all of it.”

She choked on a wretched laugh. “I’ll get fat,” she said, trying to smile and hearing her voice crack miserably.

She heard Vincent snort. “I don’t think that would ever happen.”

She leaned back and looked at him. He looked at her, his mouth pressed into a tight line. She felt tears well up in her. She grabbed onto Vincent, sobbing.

Vincent set the chocolate aside. He wrapped his arms around her. “It’ll be okay, Tifa…”

She continued to cry, which was only to be expected.

He leaned to her ear. “Would you like me to get the others? Yuffie wanted me to wake her when you woke up.”

“No…no,” Tifa said into his shoulder, muffled and interspersed with tears. “I just…I’m sorry. Don’t go. Just…please?”

“Okay,” he said, soothingly. He pulled her to him. “It’s okay. We don’t have to see them right now, okay? We can just stay here and…cry…and….eat chocolate.” He heard his voice catch and breathed deeply to keep himself under control.

Tifa laughed a little through her sobbing and then she wrapped her arms around Vincent. “Where is he?”

Vincent didn’t need to ask whom she meant. “Cid…put him in the ice freezer. To keep him—” It felt terrible to say fresh, as if he were a piece of steak. “—to keep the body until we get back to Midgar.”

Tifa hiccupped. “I wanna see him.”

Vincent didn’t refuse her. “Okay. You…want me to come with you?”

She nodded quickly, trying to keep her tears under control.

They encountered no one on their way, which proved to Vincent that there must be a god, even if he was usually laughing at him.

Vincent opened the door to the freezer and allowed Tifa to step inside.

Cid had brought a table into the room, refusing to put Cloud on the floor. He’d wrapped him in a white sheet. There was frost on it.

Tifa went forward, eyes riveted to the sheet.

Vincent walked one step behind her, ready to move in at a moment’s notice.

Tifa’s fingers were trembling, but not from the cold. She lifted back the cloth.

Cloud looked as though he were merely asleep but little tinges of frost had kissed his cheekbones and lips. His eyelids looked bruised and he was very, very pale.

Tifa pulled the sheet to Cloud’s waist and curled her fingers in his shirt. Vincent heard her breath in hard and then she was silent. Her shoulders shook.

Vincent looked Cloud. Why did he choose you…? He would never know.

Tifa slipped her hand over Cloud’s shoulder and lowered her head to his chest. The breath she took was wretched. It spoke only despair. She started to sob again.

Vincent clenched his right hand and, realizing he was leaving his left to hang again, clenched it too. He looked down at it, recalling the amazement at which he’d gazed at it just a few hours ago. He’d give it up all over again—the same way that he’d lost it—if it would bring Cloud back. What a cruel thing to do, it seemed. To take Cloud and give Vincent an arm—as if that were a worthy exchange. And Cid’s hand, of course, he mustn’t forget. But a hand and an arm—but taking away someone who had been important of all of them. How cruel.

He was beyond saving…and he knew it. Vincent sighed deeply. We weren't. The empty spot that had burned into him when he’d lost Eddie, Aeris and when he’d thought Lucrecia was dead, was now joined by another.

I’d give this arm to have him back for her. I’d give anything... He looked up to the ceiling, begging to whatever gods were listening. But there was no mysterious flash of light or magic sparkles or voices. Vincent closed his eyes. He is gone.


He took a few steps forward. He gently took one of Tifa’s hands in his own. “Tifa…”

“Don’t. I’m not leaving.”

“I’m…” How could he even fathom asking her to leave? “I’m not going to ask you to.” He put another hand on her shoulder and pulled her to him.

She wept into his shoulder, clutching the front of his jacket.

It was almost two hours later that Vincent took Tifa back to his room. He gave her one of his new shirts, a pair of baggy, cotton pants and she changed in the bathroom.

She smiled miserably when she exited, her eyes red. “They’re a big. You’re not as lean as you look.”

Vincent smiled sadly for her. “How about you get some rest, Tifa. You’re going to need it.”

She sniffed and nodded. At his bed, she pulled the covers down and got in. “Where will you sleep?”

“On the floor.”

She looked despondently at him. He turned again, going into the bathroom to change. He looked into the mirror. Red eyes looked away. Never mind three years ago or thirty years ago. I’m not the man I was three days ago…

He exited, adjusting his t-shirt.

“Vincent.”

He walked over to the table lamp. He looked at her.

“Come on. Don’t sleep on the floor, okay?”

“I used to sleep in a coffin, in comparison, the floor is much softer.”

She laughed a little. “You’ll be lonely. Come on.”

He watched her for a minute and then nodded. He turned off the light and laid down next to her. She curled up in his arms and silently began to cry again. He pretended not to notice but simply stroked her hair.

He stared at the ceiling. There was no lust or nervous tension or anything. There was no need for it anymore. He was just with her. And that’s what mattered. He would help her or give up everything trying. He loved her and no sacrifice was too great or too small anymore. Before, he might have thought, Well, I respect her decision--but still was depressed or resentful about it. Now, he would think, I want whatever makes her happy…and the thought gave him something precious. Something that no material possession could ever replace. Love. And he loved her so much that it didn’t matter if she ever loved him back at all. It would always be there. Unconditionally.

So, long after Tifa had cried herself to sleep, Vincent stayed awake, stroking her hair and staring at the wall.

I’ll take care of her for you…


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The next one will cover Cid...so if you don't like how I've set up Cid and Zet...perhaps you should wait until I get the chapter after that up.