When two people first meet, their only method of clear communication is words, spoken preferably. The occasional expression or mannerism may be read correctly, but most times, they don't know how to read each other. As time passes, they learn each other's habits, their odd movements, what makes them tick. When one's eyebrow twitches, they're confused. When the other cracks their knuckles, they're unsure of what to do with their hands. They develop a language of their own until words become unnecessary, until all they need is those habits and those movements, until scent, sight, and touch alone suffice as means of communication. But this language is entirely unique to those two people.

When one leaves, fades, dies, the language leaves, fades, dies with them, and the other is left locked out in the cold reality that they've truly lost something priceless, irreplaceable, invaluable. The language simply ceases to exist, even after all the time it took to develop. The habits, movements, scents, touches dissipate, and nothing remains but the ashes of what was once the essence of perfect—but it was only an essence. Where was the real thing? Was it ever real? Why is this happening? In time, everything leaves, fades, dies.

It's a strange thing attending your own funeral. The whole concept is a memorial of those who are no longer with everyone else, when in fact, I'm standing right here. Sure, I felt pain when Yuffie started to speak only to burst out into tears and run out of the building, hand covering her eyes. Sure, I'm a bit annoyed when Tifa makes a show of swiping away her tears and laying her head on Cloud's shoulder. And sure, I stifle a laugh at his uncomfortable expression when she does so. But does that make me any less dead? Unlikely.

I sit next to Vincent, but he doesn't know. His eyes are empty, sharp, cold, and he looks anywhere but the white casket where my dismembered body lays. What was meant to be a formal occasion turned into a circus when Avalanche strode in, still fresh out of defeating Deepground and finding Vincent alive and well where he hid from humanity in Lucrecia's cave. He's shutting down again; if there was a way to stop it, I would. But Aeris tells me that now is not the time, and so I don't make my move.

Shera dabs at her eyes, clutching Cid's arm as he scowls at my pale, lifeless face. Asshole. Reno's in front of us, drunkenly shouting out his protests to this or that and bursting into random bouts of sobbing while he clings to Rude before taking another drink and restarting the cycle. Barret, for once, shows emotion other than anger, sadly watching the whole thing play. At the beginning of all this three years ago, he lost his three closest comrades to the likes of Shinra. I suppose Deepground counts as close enough.

Ready to leave at the end of the service, I stand and head toward the door, entering a beam of bright, warm sunlight. Aeris smiles at me sweetly, a young man named Zack grinning. Apparently, this is who Cloud mixed his memories with way back when. He's a dipshit. The flower girl nods toward the crowd inside.

"They can see you," she says softly. I turn around quickly to see all of Avalanche standing, staring in stunned silence. Fighting the sadness I feel welling up, I grin, flicking two fingers off my head in a playful salute and follow Aeris and Zack out of the building. I can feel Vincent's eyes boring into my back as I leave. Closing my eyes, I allow the Lifestream to pull me back down, sorting through my memories of the past few days as I go.

"Violet, no!" David shouts, frantically searching for a pulse. "Cid! Her heart stopped!"

"Just hang on!" Cid calls back, helping his doctor climb down the slippery stone wall. Sprinting toward me, the pilot falls to his knees, pressing his fingers to my neck, hand over my heart.

"Captain, there's no way I can bring her back from this," the doctor frowns, shaking his head. "She's lost at least half of her blood and—"

David practically caves in on himself, lifting my lifeless body into his chest and sobbing, clutching to me as though I was his last and only lifeline. Cid sinks back onto his heels, defeated as he looks around the blood-soaked cavern.

Cid ignores his ringing phone for the fourth time, slamming his cabin door shut and sinking to the floor. He buries his face in his hands, taking deep, shuddering breaths. Hell, he thinks, if she didn't make it… The fifth time his ringtone goes off, it breaks him. He snatches up the device, pressing it to his ear with a broken scowl.

"She's fuckin' dead, Vin! Fuck off!"

He snaps the phone shut, throwing it across the room as pain takes over and he buries his face in his knees, struggling to control the mixture of anger and anguish that threaten to suffocate him. What chance do we have?

Vincent drags himself past the crashing waters of Lucrecia's waterfall, beaten, bruised, and bloodied. Chaos… the demon is gone. He clenches his jaw, limping toward the mako crystals that jut up from the dirt and collapsing into a pile of tattered red fabric and black leather. She's gone… for good? I never associated death with her. He shuts his eyes, beating a fist against the dirt, a pair of tears trickling down his smooth, pale skin and dripping off his chin. Her weakness was liberation. Taking a deep breath to calm himself down. Mine was always love. Another tear falls to the soil and he hangs his head, a shadow in the soft light cast from Lucrecia's crystal. Why must I always bear the misfortune?

No, it wasn't a good weak for my friends, or for me, frankly. But Aeris explained everything and she did so clearly. The Lifestream keeps the energy of life spinning in a constant cycle. That means someday, Shinra will reappear, Avalanche with rise up, more people will suffer, and the Planet will be saved yet again. Will we remember anything? Likely not. I pray that the Planet lets me live out my life the same way as it was over and over again, even with all the pain, the suffering, and the grief, because there wasn't a single element that kept Vincent and I apart except for death itself. Aeris gives me a soft smile, closing her eyes and looking down at the ground beneath our feet.

"Violet, the Planet has chosen you to be a Sender."

"A who what?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Her smile spreads and she looks up at me.

"Allow me to explain. The Planet… She wishes for you carrying our allies back here when their times come."

"Why me?" I frown.

"You're passionate," she replies simply. "You have a strong sense of right and wrong. You won't cause a paradox for the sake of wasting away the life energy of anyone you love."

"Well neither would you," I point out. She shakes her head.

"There are thousands of things I would change. My father's demise, Cloud's inner turmoil… I'm not cut out for this sort of work."

"But if this is the Lifestream and everyone that's ever died is here—"

"People have already returned," she corrects me. "Though, their stories always replay the same way. Everything feels familiar, but they cannot distinctly remember anything. Senders are differently—they have the power to change history, though it all plays out one way or another, so what's the point?"

"Okay," I sigh, crossing my arms. "So… who's first on the list?"

"Well," she replies slowly, giving Zack a sad glance. "It's Cid, actually. His time comes in only three years. Even now, the disease is festering inside him…"

~3 years later~

"I ain't dyin' woman, so leave me alone," Cid snaps, swatting Shera's hand away from his forehead, snatching the damp rag from her grasp and slams it onto the bedside table. His wife, who once might have complied and hurried out of the room, presses a hand to her hip and pushes her round glasses up.

"But you are, Captain, so let me help you."

"No," the gruff pilot snaps, bursting into a coughing fit from his sudden movement. "It's my fault this's happening, anyway." He glowers up at her. "Go worry about Kara."

Shera sighs, hanging her head and pinching the bridge of her nose; loose strands of light brown hair fall into her face. Her honey brown eyes flicker over the silent man sitting in the weathered chair that was dragged closer to the bed from the corner of the room, where it had obviously never been used for anything but laundry. Dull crimson eyes stare back at her, set in a face that never once changes to anything but stoic, solemn. With a scoff and a sharp shake of the head, Shera leaves the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Cid sighs, hacking away before propping himself up on his elbows and looking up at Vincent.

"She cares too much, y'know? Shoulda seen this coming."

"… One would think."

"Yeah," Cid reaches toward the half-empty glass on his bedside table and takes a long drink. He eyes his friend as he lays back down, raising an eyebrow. "You alright?" Even at the age of thirty-eight, the spark of life has drained from his pale eyes, left with nothing but the knowledge that he can't go out kicking, fighting. Vincent arches an eyebrow.

"You will be missed, I suppose."

"That's not what I meant an' you know it," Cid snaps. "What about Vi? Look, Vince, you be stone cold all you want, but the reality is that you ain't ever gonna see 'er again no matter how much time you spend in that cave."

"I realize that."

"… It still kinda stings, y'know?" Cid suffers through another coughing fit. "Knowin' I shoulda made her stay in the ship. If I'd 've kept her there with Dave and I, she'd be here right now."

"… It's not your fault."

"There's no one else to blame, Vin."

"I should not have sent her back," Vincent replies in a low voice, as though he's ashamed to finally speak the words aloud.

"You couldn't have known—"

"And neither could you."

"… Touché," Cid snorts. Suddenly, he frowns, whipping his head around to see me standing in the doorway, watching with my arms crossed tightly over my chest. "The hell…?"

"Yes?" I reply, raising an eyebrow. I force my gaze to remain on the pilot, though from the corner of my eye, I can see Vincent staring.

"You're dead," Cid blurts.

"Your point?" I retort. "In death, my purpose has been reassigned—I'm a messenger for the dying and a ticket home for the dead." Cid's face falls and I take a deep breath to steady my aching heart. "I think you know who I'm here to take."

"Yeah, yeah," Cid huffs, glaring now. "Who's gonna take care of—"

"Shera's got your daughter under control," I reassure him. "It'll be hard, but it won't be impossible. As for your ships, that's up to you, but you'd better decide soon. We don't have much longer."

"You don't think I can feel that?" Cid snaps, though his gaze softens considerably. "Yer kid already knows he's in charge when I ain't around."

"You sure?"

"You think I'm not?"

"This is kind of important," I shrug. Cid coughs, taking another drink of water.

"Vi, how'd you know I—"

"I told you, it's my job. Frankly, I don't want it, but I have no choice. I'm to bring back everyone I care about, and then our energy will filter back through the Planet and our lives will repeat, and I'll be the only person to remember. Kind of a sucky fate, doncha think?" I offer a weak smile and shrug. "I know when each of you will pass on. Shera's got some time, but not much. Your daughter will have to fight on her own for a good portion of her life."

"Of course she will," he replies sharply. "She's a Highwind, ain't she? She'd make it hard even if she had the world in the palms of 'er hands."

"Of course," I nod, fighting a smile. Cid looks over at Vincent, who I still refuse to acknowledge. Now's not the right time. I can't haunt his memories like that.

"Guess I'll trust this ghost and say goodbye, then. Been nice knowin' ya."

"… Goodbye, Chief," Vincent replies with a curt nod.

I kneel on the other side of Cid's bed, taking one of his hands into both of mine.

"Close your eyes, Captain. It makes this a lot easier."

Cid obeys, swallowing hard and letting his head sink into the pillow. Chewing on my lip, I press his knuckles to my forehead and take a deep breath as I feel the rest of his life energy through my own body before dissipating, returning to the Planet. I stand, tugging on Cid's hand. A rather ghostly figure of himself practically peels away from his physical body, his eyes vibrant once again.

"What the fuck," he hisses, standing at my side and staring down at the cold, lifeless frame of himself, completed with a gaunt complexion and dark circles lining his eyes. "I looked like shit."

"Yeah, a bit," I shrug, linking my arm through his before beaming at him, faking my own expression of joy. "Alright, Papa Cid, hold onto your drawers and don't piss in 'em."

"Wha…?"

With that, we vanish, removing ourselves from his home and returning to the warm, familiar territory of the Lifestream. Before us stands Aeris with a sweet, sympathetic smile on her face as she finally comes face to face with the pilot. Before she can speak, Zack comes sauntering up from absolutely nowhere and thrusts a hand out, grinning from ear to ear.

"Heya! You must be Cid Highwind. I'm Zack!"

"… Hey," Cid replies, frowning as he shakes the excitable young man's hand. "This is my purgatory, huh?"

"No," I scoff. "This is where the remaining energy of your existence stays until the Planet resets itself. Let me show you to your house."

I lead the way down the sidewalk, looking over all the empty houses and streets that somehow, by some miracle, were saved for us—the saviors of the Planet. The Lifestream appears to be uncomfortably aware. Cid gawks at his surroundings, raising his eyebrows as we stop before the door of a house.

"Yer kidding."

"No," I shake my head, glancing up at the exact replica of his house. "You spent so much time in Rocket that I guess it was assumed you loved it there."

"I mean I do, but what the hell?" Cid runs a hand over the worn brick appreciatively before swinging the front door open and stepping inside it smells alarmingly clean. There's no mud on the table, no scuffs on the wooden floor, and no kettle on the stove. Cid's face screws into one that I can only describe as a kicked puppy's pained glance of betrayal. "It's empty."

"Yeah," I practically snort, kicking at the ground with a sad smile. "It's lonely down here."

"Shit." Cid turns to face me, running on hand through his hair and resting a hand on his hip. He's been restored to a younger version of himself, less crippled with cancer and more packed with his signature boundless energy. "How long's Vince got?"

"He's the second to last," I force out, swallowing the angry lump in my throat as I bite down on the inside of my cheek. He's gone long enough to slip far, far out of my grasp and depend on Lucy's memory again.

"Shit," Cid repeats, crushing me to his chest as the strangled sobs begin to shake my shoulders. Just long enough to drive him away, even in death. "There's no end to it, is there?"

"No," I huff, clinging tightly to the back of his shirt.

"… Who's next?"

~2 years later~

"Take that!" Yuffie screams, hurtling her shuriken at a troop of soldiers.

Several men collapse to the ground with deep gashes cut across their throats. She ignores the bullets buried in her flesh, fighting to defend the people of Wutai from the onslaught of rebels who decided that her rule wasn't good enough for them. Several of her past enemies, such as Chekhov and Shake, fight at her side, though they prove to be no match for an angry mob of trained soldiers.

"Miss Kisaragi!" Gorky, a rather large old man, pants, trying to keep up with the speed of the battle. "We can't hold them off for much longer!"

"Then quit holding back!" the young ninja snaps back, bringing her weapon down over a soldier's head. "They want to fight; give 'em a fight!" She turns around to face those of Avalanche that was able to make it on time, to support her in this fight to protect her ancestors' people. Grinning, she thrusts her fist into the air. "For Wutai!" Sitting in the shadow of a nearby tree, I watch as Vincent leaps away from a cluster of firing rebels, shoving Cloud out of the way of a wave of bullets. The blonde nods gratefully and scoops his sword off the ground before diving back into the fight.

"Sure could use Cid right about now," Barret grumbles, clutching his gun arm as it fires off round after round.

"Agreed," Vincent replies dully, slashing across a soldier's throat with his golden. They're still gathering, huh? I suppose Avalanche always sniffs out trouble somehow.

"C'mon, Teef," Yuffie calls, racing to the top of a grassy hill. The martial artist nods, chasing after her. But pushing too hard has its consequences, and before long, they're overwhelmed. Tifa lands on the ground, still kicking and punching away; Yuffie hits the ground hard when the butt of a gun slams into her temple.

"Yuffie!" Tifa cries, gunshots going off in all directions.

Cerberus roars, taking down soldiers with reckless abandon as its master rushes to rescue the fallen ninja. With a sardonic smile, I push myself to my feet and stride up the hill, sticking to the sheltering shadows of buildings and trees. I shake my head as Cloud, in vain, hacks through rebel after rebel in an effort to reach the ninja in time. The hill is cleared off all foes by the time Avalanche reaches the bleeding, gasping girl. The light practically shines through my body as I step forth. Tifa falls to the ground, clutching Yuffie tighter to her chest upon seeing me.

"No, wait!" she cries, holding up a hand. "You can't take her!" Rolling my eyes, I kneel beside Yuffie, her gray eyes turning up to me, filled with wonder.

"I have to. If I decide to change the course of history for the sake of one life, that would result in an incredible paradox. That'd be incredibly selfish of me, don't you think?" I glance up at the bartender, arching an eyebrow. She sits in stunned silence. I turn back to Yuffie. "You ready to go? Aeris is there, you know."

"Cid too?" Nanaki asks, tilting his head. "So, it was you who you stole the last of his life." I scoff. You do what you're told and suddenly you're a traitor.

"You should know I didn't take him for no reason—it's the same as this. The Planet was calling him and it's my duty to return the called to their final resting place." I pause, shrugging as I stare down at the grass. "… He does miss you all, though." Damn, that stings. The loneliness is nearly unbearable these days, even if we have each other. It's just not the same.

"So you're an angel now?" Yuffie asks, breaking the weary hush that's fallen over our crowd.

"Far from it," I laugh, taking hold of her hand. "We have to leave now. See you all soon?"

"Soon?" The voice nearly startles me into a second death. I take a deep breath. "It's been two years." I gather my courage and I turn to face Vincent, looking him dead in his bitter eyes.

"I really am sorry," I reply as honestly as I can. "Time passes differently when you've died, even when you have nothing else to do." I scan over the group, noticing a missing face. Did I miss him? I panic, my stomach sinking with dread. "Where's David?" I wish I could take back the words immediately as any expression in Vincent's face drains away to the same cold mask he throws up in every stranger's face.

"… I haven't seen him."

"Damn," I mutter, looking down at Yuffie. I want to leave now. "Ready to go?"

"Let's go visit the old fart," she mutters with a tired smile. I shake my head, waiting until her eyes shut to drain her of any life. Slowly, I pull her new, spiritous body to its feet. "See you guys!"

"Yuffie!" Tifa wails, lunging for the girl, but we're already long gone.

~2 years later~

"Hey! Careful with that pressure!" Barret bellows at an employee. So far, his oil company has been a wonderful replacement for mako energy. There are still kinks to work out, and the system is far from flawless, but it's the only thing that's worked so far—why not keep it going as long as it can go?

"Sure thing, Mr. Wallace," a middle-aged woman calls back, adjusting a dial on a tank. The big man scoffs, grumbling something under his breath.

"Shit, we've been over this, Elaine! Call me Barret!"

"Alright, Barret," she replies with a smile, turning to observe more tanks. "The rest looks good to me." Barret nods and turns to Darrick, one of his less than useful employees.

"Thought I told ya not to smoke around the goddamn gasoline barrels," Barret snaps, glowering down at the young worker. Rolling his eyes, Darrick takes one last drag from his cigarette before throwing it to the floor. Scoffing, Barret turns back to the rest of the floor as his phone begins to ring. "All of ya, get outta here! Day's done." I take note of a spark from the burning end of the cigarette as Barret's employees filter out the door quickly, grateful for the rest.

"Yo, Spikey!" Barret greets, pressing his phone to his ear with a grin. Three. "Whatcha need?" Two. "Huh?" One. The gasoline barrels set off in a chain reaction, lighting the oil tanks. The pressure sets off a long round of explosions that bring the entire building down in a mere eight seconds.

"C'mon, Barret," I huff, digging through the debris. He appears out of nowhere, standing on top of a pile of rubble and scratching at his beard.

"Am I dead?"

"Yeah," I sigh, dusting my hands off and watching him scan his surroundings.

"What happened?"

"Same thing that happened to me, except, y'know, a little more instantaneous."

"… Right." His face falls almost immediately, drained with panic. "Marlene!"

"She wasn't here today," I reassure him. "It's still the afternoon, remember? She's at school."

"But—"

"C'mon," I scoff, gripping his arm and dragging him to Aeris' side.

After promptly forcing home-revealing duty on Zack and Yuffie, I muster up all the energy I've drained over the past few years and teleport myself to somewhere rather important, praying that it works. When I open my eyes, it appears that it did. The dim green glow of Lucrecia's crystal is still the only source of light in this dark place, though I can see the embers of a dying fire burning at his feet. Leaning forward, Vincent appears to be staring into nothingness at the front of the cave, drained of all hope once more.

"So," I start, unsure of how to speak to him after all these years. I can slowly feel myself draining away as though I'm being timed by an hourglass and my soul is the sand. Every muscle in his body visibly tenses—it seems like he can't tell if he's hearing things or not. "You do still hang around here." His head turns slowly and his eyes meet mine.

"Violet," he mutters, his brow creasing with a slight frown. "What are you doing here?"

"Am I not allowed to visit?" I scoff crossing my arms. His gaze falls to the dirt floor of the cavern.

"You… haven't bothered for nearly a decade."

"Yeah…" Ouch. "Listen, Aeris is strict. She doesn't even know I'm here, but once she learns she'll beat my ass." He doesn't reply, turning back to the crystal in silence. I sigh, meandering closer. "It's weird… she's not there."

"Perhaps she's still alive," he mutters, moving to clean the weapon that's spread across his lap.

"Yeah, lucky her," I scoff, knowing full well she's neither living nor dead. "Don't be cranky, Vincent. I only have so long—I really am sorry." I sit beside him on the ground, tucking my hair behind my ear. "It takes so much out of me to appear like this." His hands pause, and a moment later, he peers up at me through his long black bangs.

"How long?"

"Ten minutes, maybe?" I shrug, though the words all burn as they pass my lips. I wish I wasn't dead and gone, I wish we weren't forced apart, I wish I wasn't doomed to the fate that I was given. But wishing never did anyone any good, did it? Slowly, Vincent sets Cerberus aside.

"You aren't glowing."

"Nope."

"You're really here?"

"As here as I can be."

Hesitantly, a hand grazes my arm to test the waters; I wrestle with a smile. How many times do I have to say "yes" before you believe me? Suddenly, I'm jerked into the tightest embrace he's ever given anyone, his face buried in the side of my neck and his arms clutching me to his chest as though he's refusing to let the Planet take me back; it'll have to fight him to the death first. I laugh.

"Okay, okay. Vince, I can't br—"

"Why did you go?"

"I died," I reply dryly. Shaking my head, I gently run a hand through the tangled hair on the back of his head. "I had to, you know that."

"No, you didn't."

"Vincent, since when do you ask questions?" I tease. My only response is a slight twitch that crushes me further. Sighing, I pull away and press my forehead to his. "Listen, once you're dead and gone, you'll be stuck with me in the Lifestream whether you want to be or not. How's that sound?" He doesn't reply, hooking a finger under my chin and lifting my face to press a kiss to my lips.

"Violet…"

"Hm?"

"… I…"

"Don't push yourself," I tease with a soft laugh, cocking my head to the side. He shakes his head, pulling me back into a hug, though it's gentler this time.

"… … I love you, too," he murmurs, his voice sounding strained as though he has to force the words out. I rest my head against his shoulder with a grin.

"Hm… Little late on that reply, you think?"

"I never got the chance," he huffs, though we both know that's a poor excuse. "I thought perhaps you could tell."

"I thought you could tell, but I still said it, didn't I?" I dig a finger into his side pointedly, playfully. I feel his face break into a smile against my skin.

"Yes," he murmurs. "You did."

There isn't much need for detail for any other death. They all began to build up higher and higher over the years—we nearly have the whole bunch here now. Cloud was hit by a truck on the way home from a delivery, Reeve was assassinated in his own WRO office by a member of a local protest, depression over the loss of Cloud killed Tifa, Denzel was in an accident with a drunk driver the day he got his license, and Shera was wiped out by a particularly nasty strain of influenza.

"Morning, Cid!" I call, grinning as I pass by the pilot. He glances back at me, holding an armful of rags and bottles as Shera washes the windows of their home with an odd sort of aggression. He chuckles.

"Today the day?"

"Hell yeah."

Across the street, Barret watches my brisk pace. I can hear his laughter loud and clear. I bet you're wondering how we're not all old and cranky by now, even at the ages certain people died at. See, the Planet, Lifestream, whatever entity, restores people back to their most successful selves once they return for the final stretch of their existences—it takes them back to the best point of their lives. Makes it a little easier when Tifa's not in her thirties.

My heart's singing as I head toward the center of our little slice of paradise. It's been nearly a decade since I've seen him; at my last visit I swore to him I'd return. Since then, I haven't seen him a single time. None of us thought we'd see the day the stubborn gunman passed on to the other side. I pass by Tifa on my way, earning a rather sour expression.

"Is today the day to kill Vincent?"

"For the last fuckingtime, I didn't kill anyone," I snap. "Let me be excited; I haven't gotten any action in fifteen years."

"Watch him have another girl."

"Watch me make my first kill."

"Damn."

She carries on and I roll my eyes, staring up at the "sky." Really, it's more of an abyss that fades into nothing but a greenish tint. There's no sun; just light or no light. Our new world is always some faint shade of green or blue; it's like the slightest overlay of color. Closing my eyes, I will myself to travel to the time and location I've been directed.

I open them to see that I'm on the edge of Midgar. Invisible to the human eye, I stroll past groups of people that are either heading home or heading out, my feet carrying me far past the outskirts to the desert where a lone figure hunches beside a small fire. The sand shifts beneath my feet as I hang back, circling him, but no footprints are left behind. The sun sinks below the horizon and engulfs his back in cool darkness.

Eventually, the fire dies out and his head falls back, his eyes scanning the starry night sky. He's blissfully unaware. He lays back on the sand, wrapped in the tattered, worn material of his cape, and misery seals his eyes shut. His hair blows in the gentle breeze and half of his face ducks beneath his collar for warmth. It's hours later that a shadow creeps over the sand, his trembling hands drawing a silenced handgun from his side. I turn away with a cringe, feeling my heart break as the whistle of a bullet ends abruptly when it finds Vince's skull. It was as simple as that.

Forcing myself to be seen, I appear at Vincent's side with Nightmare drawn, eyes flashing brightly in the darkness. Startled, the assassin fires twice, alarmed when his bullets soar through me.

"You dare disturb the dead!?" I demand, stepping closer. With a cry, the young man turns and sprints away, throwing looks over his shoulder as he goes to make sure I'm not following. Satisfied, I sheathe my sword. "Works every time." I crouch beside Vincent, brushing his hair from his solemn face before taking his hand and drawing his new self to his feet. "C'mon, Vinnie, let's go."

"… Vincent," he corrects dryly, turning to stare down at his lifeless, obviously aging body. He almost looks disappointed. "I should have been prepared."

"It was your time, anyway," I scoff, taking hold of his shoulder. "Don't worry—the kid who did it pissed his pants."

"…What did you do?"

"I dunno," I shrug. "C'mon, let's go home. I haven't shut up about this for weeks."

"My death?"

"The day you come back to me," I correct, tugging him into a tight hug. "It's good to see you again."

"I've been waiting."

"Sorry," I lie, standing on my toes to kiss him. "I got a little carried away." He relishes in the attention a moment longer before breaking away and looking over our surroundings.

"This isn't far from where you died. Strange."

"Yeah, getting your legs blown off does feel a little strange," I tease, ignoring his scowl. "Shall we get going? Aeris made cake and I want some before Barret and Cid shove it all into their faces." Vincent conceals a slight smile.

"I suppose we can't stay here."

I take his hand and poof us back into the magical land of the living dead. Vincent looks around curiously as I practically drag him down the street, making a beeline for Aeris' house. Soft lights glow from the windows of the houses lining the streets. "Aeris and Zack live just up ahead."

"Zack?"

"The guy Cloud got his memories mixed up with. It's complicated."

"I see."

Finally, arriving at the doorstep, I draw closer to Vincent's side for warmth and knock on the door for the first time in years. Barret's roaring laughter is enough to tell me they didn't hear, so I roll my eyes and welcome us in myself. All conversation stops as Vincent steps into the house, looking far more alive than he has in decades.

"Vin!" Cid cheers. "Welcome to the shit show!"

"It's been a while," Vincent replies almost smugly.

"Vinnie!" Yuffie shrieks, throwing herself over the couch and clinging to his leg. Vincent tolerates the greeting awkwardly until she bounds back to Tifa and Aeris, satisfied.

"Nice to see you, Vincent," Cloud greets. Vincent nods back. Zack laughs, ruffling the blonde's hair.

"Don't be so solemn, Chocobo Boy!"

I huff and flop down onto the couch, drained. Cake doesn't sound all that good anymore. Vincent hesitantly sits beside me; I rest my head on his shoulder, staring into the abyss as the conversation turns into a low hum in my ears. Someone flicks the back of my head and I scowl up at Yuffie, who merely grins back.

"Sleepy?"

"All that traveling really takes everything out of me," I yawn. She yawns too, blinking away the gathering tears in her eyes.

"Why don't you guys go home?"

"You guys haven't gotten to see Vince since—"

"Violet, no one's keeping you here," Aeris cuts in. "We have years to catch up, yeah? Go home and get some rest—you deserve it." Vincent stands, nodding back everyone's collective goodbyes and follows me out of the house as I stumble alone tiredly.

"So that's where Cid lives," I point out, nodding to the place across the street. "That's where Barret's staying. His wife's there, too. It must've been weird to see her after being apart for so long. Then again…" I let my sentence trail off, settling for a good old side-elbow instead. Vincent sighs, shaking his head at my antics. "My parents actually live across town; Grimoire and his wife are somewhere near them."

"My father…?" Vincent frowns. There's a slight change in his pace.

"Yeah," I nod. "Let me know if you ever want to see him and I'll show you the way." He doesn't reply, following me up the steps of my—our—front porch. "So, this is the place Aeris gave me. You're staying here whether you want to or not."

"As you have previously stated."

"Wasn't sure if you forgot," I shrug, pushing the front door open. I turn the lights on and kick my shoes off beside the door as Vincent closes the door and lets his eyes wander. On the wall beside the staircase hangs Nightmare alongside a quiver of ebony arrows. The living room is right before us, complete with a fireplace and plenty of comfortable seating. The kitchen is wide open, clearly seen from the entryway. I take hold of Vince's wrist and tug him toward the staircase.

"C'mon, I'll show you where your room is."

"My room…?"

"Yeah. What?"

"… Nothing."

We head up the stairs and I turn to the left to lead him down the narrow hallway that ends with a bathroom. On either side, there's a wooden door. The right leads to my room. I open the left, heading inside the bedroom and motioning toward the bed.

"I'm assuming this was prepared for you; everything's on the grayscale." I cross my arms, suddenly feeling awkward as he steps inside and looks around carefully. This separation after waiting to be together for so long… It feels wrong.

"You haven't been in here," he comments, tracing a finger through the dust coating the desk in the back corner.

"No," I shake my head. He turns to face me.

"Show me yours."

I shrug, turning and heading across the hall. Before he gets too far in, I gather up my dirty laundry and stuff it into a nearby hamper. No need for him to see my sloppiness leaking out. Immediately, his eyes fall on the unmade bed and I roll my eyes. Let the nitpicking stop for a few minutes please. Uncomfortably, I run a hand through my hair.

"So, uh, what do you think?"

"…" Vincent turns back to me, eyebrow raised. "It could be cleaner."

"Don't be a shithead," I snort. "That's not what I meant."

"It's what I think."

"Vincent, seriously—" I give up, shaking my head. "Gods, I'm tired."

"Get some rest," he replies simply, hesitantly inching back toward the door.

"No, wait," I protest. "You don't have to leave. What've you been up to?" I ask, pulling a pair of shorts out of my dresser drawer and changing quickly.

"Nothing," he answers, dutifully sitting on the mattress when I nudge him in that direction. "What were you doing?"

"Being busy with all this Sender bullshit," I scoff, waving my hands around dramatically. "Hanging out here and being sad and alone, too, I guess." I sit next to him, resting a hand on his knee. "But, I mean, now we have a chance to make up for lost time." Vincent raises an eyebrow.

"What are you implying?"

"Vince," I huff, swatting his arm. Sighing, I press my forehead to his, closing my eyes. "I missed you."

"I know," he replies quietly, hand gently brushing my arm.

"Are you going to bed anytime soon?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"You."

"Well," I say very matter-of-factly, sitting back and cocking my head to the side. "I'm tired as fuck, and I don't want to be alone."

"You won't be."

Grinning, I lean forward and kiss him, laughing when he pulls away to stretch. Vincent stands and pulls off his cape and shoes as I crawl up to my pillow, happily cocooned in blankets. Vince slides under the covers slowly, carefully. He's just close enough that I can feel his warmth. Snickering, I reach back and pull one of his arms around him, forcing him to roll onto his side. Huffing, he rests his chin on top of my head and slowly, slowly relaxes. I'm finally, content, letting my eyes finally slide shut.

One day, we'll all be reborn, and we have no say in how it plays out the second time. The tale will be told over and over again. The world will fall into the wrong hands and another battle between good and evil will commence, but the line that defines them will be blurred in a conquest to save the rock that hurtles us through space. Over and over again, Shinra, Avalanche, and Sephiroth with rise only to fall.

I pray that every time it cycles through, I fall for him.

~FIN~

THE END! FINALLY, THIS REWRITE IS OVER :D I REALLY MISSED THIS STORY AND RETURNING TO IT 4 YEARS LATER WAS A BLAST BC HONESTLY SO MUCH CHANGED IN THAT TIME (I WAS A HOMESCHOOLED FRESHMAN IN HS WHEN I FIRST WROTE THE ORIGINAL :P)

THANKS FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO READ THE OG AND CAME BACK FOR THIS AND TO THOSE WHO HOPPED ON THE BANDWAGON FOR THE FIRST TIME. I APPRECIATE YOU ALL 3

IF YOU'RE INTERESTED, I HAVE MORE STORIES FOR FINAL FANTASIES 7, 12, 15, AND A FEW CROSSOVERS!

THAT'S ALL FOR NOW, FOLKS! THIS SENTIMENTAL PIECE OF TRASH IS SIGNING OFF.

#VINNIEISNOTAMUSED