Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Once a Man ❯ Broken Toys ( Chapter 10 )

Once a Man

Chapter 10: Broken Toys

Seven months. Vincent had been alive and in pain for seven months while Gast and the ever beloved Lucrecia used him like a lab rat.

How can he claim to love such a creature? How can he look at her with anything except complete loathing?

Oh, Planet. Seven months of living his own death, but never dying.

And he has the nerve to say I'm the one responsible for his suffering.

Veld had to pick me up and drag me out of that lab. I'd gone back to my previous past-time of screaming my head off hysterically, and he'd come to the conclusion I'd be happier if I continued my new hobby in the privacy of my room. I had a jolly time of it, curled in a chair seeing Vincent's eyes opening again, and again. And I'd had the stupid notion that my mind had been as broken as it could get. That was the last time I made that mistake. I figure the human mind has unlimited potential, therefore it has unlimited potential to break in new and creative ways.

I wonder if I should make a list.

It was well past sundown when I finally managed to stop. My voice had long since given up, but that didn't mean my mind couldn't continue to scream and try to drag my abused voice box along with it. I spent the rest of the night in the chair, shaking, still seeing Vincent's horrified, pain filled eyes looking at me.

You don't know how close Sephiroth came to not being born. If I had been able to get to my feet and find the door, I would have killed her for what she and Gast had done. It would have destroyed me since I would have killed the baby, but my mind wasn't working well enough for me to say I wouldn't have done it anyway.

I'm sure Avalanche would have preferred that end: Sephiroth and I dead thirty years ago. But then, if that had happened, there wouldn't have been an Avalanche. Vincent would have destroyed humanity before most of them were even conceived. There wouldn't even have been a Planet for them to run around saving. I doubt they'd be willing to say thank you.

Ungrateful lot.

By morning, I was mostly functional, had repressed most of my urge to kill her, and was back up and ready to do something, anything to help Vincent. I wobbled my way downstairs where people were still racing around. Veld was directing them like an overworked traffic cop, waving his cup of coffee as he directed rushing people around the mansion.

He looked me over carefully, “Feel better.”

I shrugged and whispered with my cracked voice. “Would you?”

“No.” He nodded down towards the labs. “I've sealed off that lab. Those that were down there know to keep their mouths shut.”

I nodded. “I'll deal with…it.” I looked around. “Where is she?”

Veld nodded back upstairs. “I think she's having the kid.”

“Fine. Keep me posted. I'm going to see what I can do for Vincent.” I turned and walked towards the lab entrance. I wanted to be as far from her as I could till the child was born. I didn't trust myself to not tear her to pieces with my teeth then stamp the pieces into the ground. “I want to know when she's about to deliver.”

“Should we send for a doctor?” Veld didn't seem inclined to rush off to fetch one. He seemed more interested in what my response was going to be.

I shook my head. I wanted the bitch to suffer, just as Vincent had suffered. I wanted to hear her screams all the way down to the lab. I wanted her alone, in pain, and helpless, just as she'd kept Vincent. If I could, I would have videotaped the whole thing to treasure each helpless sob and agonized shriek. “No. No doctor. Nothing. If she decides to try dying, let me know so I can save the baby.”

Veld nodded not saying anything. Veld has always had a fine sense of payback, and, as far as he was concerned, Lucrecia owed the Turks for what she'd done to their leader. “You're the boss.”

I staggered my way down to the lab, nodding to the two Turks stationed outside. They stepped aside and opened the door, letting me back into that room.

Nothing had changed. Vincent was still in his mako tomb. The equipment glowed softly in the dimness of the lighting. Even the air was the same sterile air that wafted through the lab in a monotonous wheeze.

I walked back up the scaffolding. “Vincent?”

He looked dead, his body hanging limply in the liquid, his eyes closed, his hair swaying gently in the mako. Even suspended in an oversized test tube, he was beautiful. I wanted to reach out and pull him into my arms to protect him, to sooth away all those months he'd been alone with them, to take away the pain I'd seen in his eyes. I would have given my soul if he would just open his eyes and give me a little smirk to say all was going to be well.

I knew it wouldn't happen. Even with my mind in splinters, I knew that much.

“I'll try Vincent. I'll try. I promise, whatever they've done, I'll undo it.” I reached out to touch the cylinder, hoping he could hear me.

I stood there, considering just what I needed to do, when my fractured, abused psyche came up with an idea. If Vincent was still at the point where he was not quite dead, if he was still on this side of life, perhaps I could still save him. I would have to know what that thing was that he kept changing into, and I would need that bitch's help for that, but I was sure I could do it. It was no more than performing surgery to save someone's life. I could repair the damage to his internal organs, knit together broken arteries and veins. I could close up the wound. I could save him. I could have him back with me. We could raise our child together as a family. We'd go back to our apartment. I'd coddle and treasure him for the rest of his life. He'd sigh at me and playfully swat me away. We'd cuddle on the couch. We'd trip over baby toys. We'd make love in that oversized bed he adored so much. We'd go to Wutai and show off our child to my mother. He'd retire from active duty and become a trainer. We'd move to someplace nice where our child could run and play in safety. We'd send our child off to college. We'd grow old together. We'd doddle grandchildren on our knees as Vincent told them about pushing me off the bridge in the City of the Ancients. Everything would be just fine.

I patted the mako tube. “Just hang on. Just a little bit more. I can do this. I can save you.”

I scampered down the scaffolding and raced back upstairs. If I liked it or not, I had to make sure Lucrecia survived. She was going to help me save Vincent. Veld wasn't where I left him, so I frantically raced around searching for him.

“VELD!” I ran into the kitchen, searching for him. “VELD!”

“Hey,” a Turk came running, “What..?”

“Where is Veld? I need to talk to him!” I nearly shook the man, hoping to rattle the answer out of him quicker.

“Upstairs. He sent me to find you. The baby's about to be born.” The man brushed me away, straightening his uniform with an angry twitch.

I couldn't have cared less. I ran. She couldn't die. I needed her to save Vincent. If she died, Vincent died. I raced up the stairs to where her room was. Veld was standing in the door, and I could hear her screaming in pure agony.

I admit, one part of my mind cheered at the sound.

“Veld.” I panted. “Is she?”

“Almost there.” He leaned against the door frame casually. “I'd give it another hour or so.”

“How is she? I need her alive.” I peeked around him.

He shrugged. “Looks like she'll make it.”

She looked like she was in hell, but with the reassurance of her survival, I relaxed and enjoyed the scene. As someone who wanted her to suffer, it made me feel warm and happy to share those special moments with her. She screamed. She bled. She cried for mercy. It was a beautiful, beautiful experience. I only wished Vincent could have been there to see it. Veld and I certainly had a good time.

Finally, in a gush of blood, a tiny infant came into the world. She fell back sobbing as I stepped into the room and gathered its tiny body up into my arms. A son. Vincent and I had a son. He was pitifully small; covered in slime, blood, and other less pleasant things, and still attached to her. Well, the last was not going to be tolerated one second longer. It only took a bit of ingenuity and a sharp knife (Thank the Planet for Turks and their folding knives) and our son was free from her.

“My baby. Let me hold my baby.” She reached out for him, the picture of aching, yearning motherhood.

Her? Touch Vincent's son? Not while I was alive to prevent it. I'd rather toss the babe to rabid Nibel wolves. He would have been safer.

I turned away and walked out the door, leaving her to shriek behind my back for her baby. I enjoyed it. I didn't believe it for one second, but I enjoyed the theatrics. I had no doubts that given a chance she'd do something horrid to the boy. After what she'd done to me and Vincent I guessed she had something hidden in her pillows or in the mattress to slip the little one. I made a note to have her room stripped, searched and sterilized. When I stopped a second and thought about it, perhaps she'd be better off in a concrete cell. I'd have to think that over, but for now I needed to clean up my son, wrap him in something warm, and show him to his father.

As I passed Veld, who looked supremely unimpressed with the miracle of birth, I muttered, “See to her. Keep her alive. I need to know what she did to Vincent.”

“Fine.” He motioned for a nearby Turk.

“Also, she's not to come near, or hear about the baby. Not a word.” I cradled the baby closer.

“Not a problem.” Veld nodded. “She's not going anywhere and I'll make sure no one speaks to her.”

When Veld said he'd do something, he did it thoroughly. For the rest of our time in Nibelheim, no one, not a soul, talked to her except for me, and she didn't step out of a room without a guard trailing her every move. Until her mad dash for the freedom of being encased in mako, she never so much as opened a window without a gun being pointed in her direction and by that time, I didn't mind in the least that she'd absented herself from the scene. I was only a day away from having her dragged out to the mountains to be introduced to a handy dragon.

I always used to love those stories about evil witches being eaten by dragons. I feel a bit cheated that I didn't get to see it.

I carried the baby down to the labs and cleaned him off. He was so tiny and so thin. I always had a picture in the back of my mind about plump, chubby babies that cried with loud, outraged voices. He didn't fit that picture. He was pale and weak, his thin limbs moving in feeble twitches. He didn't cry, just opened and closed his mouth silently making small hiccups of sound. His small face was pinched and thin.

She did that to him. She and Gast had hurt him before he was even born. I was a grown man, and their madness nearly killed me. How much worse was it for him. I hated them even more for what they'd done, for what I had unknowingly helped them to do. As soon as her usefulness was over, I'd find some way to pay her back. Maybe Vincent would have some ideas.

In case you are wondering, no he was not born with luxurious silver hair. I've been asked that so many times by the secretaries that sighed dreamily after him in the halls of Shinra. Yes, he had his green, slitted eyes, but tragically for the adorning paper pushers that kept Shinra afloat in paperwork, he was born bald. The day I told them that, the secretaries spent the day sniffling quietly, mourning the death of their cherished dreams.

I bundled our son up and walked into the lab where Vincent was. “Vincent, look.” I went up to the mako tube and held up the baby. “A son. You have a son.”

He didn't respond, but I didn't mind. He'd be better soon. I could imagine his face when he woke up, alive and well, and saw his son. He'd be so proud. He'd make a great father. We'd be great fathers.

“What do you think we should name him?” I cradled the baby close, smiling at Vincent. “Vincent Junior?”

I thought it over then shook it out of my head. It was unlucky. It was like I was replacing Vincent with his son. “How about Stanley?”

Vincent hated that name. He thought the name only belonged to geeks and nerds. He'd tease me that I should have been named Stanley, Stanley Studly, then he'd laugh till I hit him with something and we'd wrestle around playfully as he teased me about my overwhelming geekiness. It always ended with me pinned under him with my mouth latched to one body part of another while he gasped in pleasure.

“No?” I sat down on the floor, looking up at Vincent, like he was a holy icon on an alter. “He's so small… he'll need a strong name. How about Hank? Butch? Duke?”

The baby whimpered softly, almost inaudibly. I sighed and got up. “Our son is getting cold. I'll bring him back later, promise.”

In the week that followed, as I waited for that lazy bitch to get better, I took care of my son. I found a hospital incubator in one of the store rooms, that, no doubt, Gast and Lucrecia had meant for him (I checked it carefully for any unwanted additions), monitors to track his vital signs, and some institutional looking baby accessories. There wasn't a teddy bear, pacifier, or rattle in sight. Not that I was surprised. While waiting, I read through Gast's lab notes and my son was only referred to by technical terms like fetus, organism, and specimen. Organisms don't need toys. Specimens don't have to be comforted.

I also started my headlong dive into medicine, human physiology, and child care. Once she was back on her feet, I wanted to be ready. I needed to know how to repair that hole in Vincent's chest. I wasn't sure I wanted another person touching Vincent, not after what Gast and his loving assistant had done to us, so I had to be prepared.

I also was caught by surprise by my son. I had dedicated so much time to trying to save him that I never thought about what I would do once he was safe in my care. I confess it was probably a good thing that he had already absorbed so much mako and Jenova, or he might never have survived our first diapering session. No one told me that the new, plastic diapers didn't need to be pinned in place, or that babies, even tiny ones, wiggle like eels, or what diaper covers actually were supposed to do. I earned my first outraged look when I ignorantly tried to clean his tiny bottom with a cold baby wipe.

Over time I got so used to his glares of death that when he was old enough to actually back up those glares, I was completely immune. The whole world shivered at his feet in terror, and I just would sigh, ask if he'd been eating right, and worry that he was getting to thin. (He took after Vincent in that department, right down to the snarling at nutritionally sound meals. You'd think I was torturing the boy with carrots to hear him yowl about the evils of vegetables.)

I pieced together some of what they had done to us as well. It wasn't pretty. I found most of their notes on what they'd done. To summarize: Gast wanted me out of the way. My relationship with Vincent was endangering his position in the company. Turks have a lot of power, after all they are the masters of blackmail and they weren't afraid to use it on their associates. Gast, seeing that I might one day usurp his position, decided to get rid of me.

He tried to dispose of me on his own -the witch hunt just before Jenova was moved to Nibelheim was his doing- but Vincent had protected me, turning suspicion to others. When Lucrecia came to Gast looking for Grimiore's son, he saw the perfect opportunity to not only dispose of me, but Vincent as well. It was even better that it provided him with two test subjects for his pet project.

We were all moved to Nibelheim and the games began. Vincent was targeted first. He was considered the more dangerous one, so he was drugged and manipulated into believing he was in love with Lucrecia. His body reacted well to the Jenova, and in a short amount of time he was considered no more threat and was moved on to stage two of their study -I still hadn't found the information about stage two, but considering what I had witnessed, and the references to demonology in some of the lab notes, I didn't think it was anything good.

I, however, was more of a problem. I didn't react well to the Jenova. While Gast was personally elated by my soon to be death, the scientist in him was puzzled. Why did Vincent absorb the Jenova with only minimal side effects while I was not only rejecting them but dying from them? The scientist in him won out and Lucrecia turned her attention to me. I was given the mind controlling drugs and more tests were done, dosages were changed, and even new formulas of Jenova injections were developed in an attempt to get my body to accept them. While I showed some signs of physical improvement, my mental state deteriorated steadily.

Meanwhile, they'd kept Vincent on his own regimen of drugs, but Lucrecia had abandoned him. This created a conflict in Vincent. He needed Lucrecia, his master, to make him happy, but she rejected him completely. Without her attention, he became moody, despondent, and started showing signs of extreme stress that brought out premature signs of stage two experimentation. He needed something to relieve that stress and lashed out at me, his former lover. There were pages of psychological babble about repression, reaction formation, and displacement, which I skimmed over. It came down to Vincent had been in pain, and, in a sad, broken way, he'd come to me to help him.

And I shot him.

I hate myself.

Gast and Lucrecia decided that I was a failure as an experiment and shuffled me out of the way. If I survived, they could look at long term affects to see if any Jenova remained in my system. If I didn't, that was fine too. An autopsy would give them all the data they'd need.

As for Vincent, that was more complicated. He survived a bullet through the heart. He should have died instantly. Instead, he not only survived but started showing more advanced signs of the mysterious stage two. Gast and Lucrecia were ecstatic. They dumped Vincent into a mako tube to slow all his bodily processes, including healing -and dying- and studied him.

The details of their examinations, to this day, make me ill. They didn't want to jeopardize their specimen by removing him from the mako, but that left plenty of room for probes, scans, and occasionally having someone go into the mako in a protective suit to make a more physical examination of “his physical reactions to sensory input.” In short, they tortured him to see just how much more pain he could endure besides the hole in his chest.

They also experimented on my son. Lucrecia knew all along the baby was Vincent's and was thrilled to have another Valentine to do her research on. I, mind controlled puppet that I had been, even helped figure out the correct formula to infect my son with Jenova. I was less than proud of that. When I was removed from Nibelheim, the experiment continued and was even advanced into the stage two area. Lucrecia was a bit hesitant about doing stage two while the baby was still inside her, but after a few tests, it was discovered that whatever stage two was, it didn't cross over the placental barrier. She was happy about that, and continued with the experimentation.

My sudden arrival with a group of annoyed Turks and soldiers spoiled their fun. All of which all brought us to me sitting in a lab, using my foot to rock my son in a hastily acquired cradle, next to his nearly dead father, as I read about the atrocities that had been committed to us.

Ah, family bonding…

I put down the last folder and scooped up my son. After reading some of her notes, I was leaning towards naming him either after Michael, after the Sword Angel, or Sephiroth, after the Ten Names of God on the Tree of Life. I was, as you can now tell, leaning towards Sephiroth since I felt that with all the demons mentioned in his loving mother's notes that he'd need more than just a sword to defend himself from her plans.

How right I was…

I had set up his nursery in a room off the lab that I was now using as a bedroom. I didn't sleep much anyway, and staying close to Vincent was my top priority, so my son took over. He'd acquired quite a few things in his short life which now seemed to multiply underfoot. I had to skirt around an overly large stuffed chocobo, a clutter of plastic toys the clinked and rattled, soft toys with giddily happy faces, tiny socks that never stayed on tiny feet, and piles of diapers waiting to be used. His crib had transformed from a sterile, grey, industrial monstrosity to a happy, colorful baby bed of primary colors and dancing sea creatures. And all the while these things kept mysteriously appearing, the Turks around me remained stoically innocent.

Have I mentioned to never trust an innocent Turk. There is no such thing.

One of them appeared in the door and watched, signaling that he wanted to talk to me. I put my son down to sleep, his tiny back end sticking up into the air, showing the world the happy, little, pink bubble spraying elfadunk on his bottom -Yes, there he was the greatest future general and evil doer on the Planet- and quietly made my way back through the baby maze.

“Yes?” I shooed him back, partially closing the door behind us.

“She seems to be ready to cooperate.” He nodded upstairs. “Veld had the doctor look her over and he gave the go ahead.”

I didn't bother asking how Veld had managed to turn a doctor's okay into cooperation. I had faith in his persuasive abilities. Over the years I'd known him, I'd seen Vincent casually send him off to “talk” to people. The results were always sure to make Vincent smile.

I nodded and closed the door to my room and locked it. I had a portable baby monitor (Actually, it was a spy unit that was casually dumped in my lap by another innocent Turk. It had all the latest spy tools. I could hear every sound he made. With a touch of a button, I got to see what was happening with him, and it was all on a tiny monitor that fit in the palm of my hand, or more accurately, in the breast pocket of my lab coat.) with me so my only worry was Lucrecia finding that my son was so close to her.

“Escort her down.” I looked up to Vincent. “We can begin this immediately.”

I rushed up to Vincent, smiling. “Soon. Soon. We'll have you out of there soon.”

She didn't look all that happy to be there when she arrived. She was still sick from the Jenova and mako they'd given her to transfer to my son. She moved carefully, still hurting from her not so idyllic delivery. In short, she looked hideous. She also had a thoroughly ticked off Turk standing at her side scaring her into compliance.

It made my day.

“Now,” I stepped down, rubbing my hands together to keep myself from wrapping them around her neck and squeezing. “Let's begin.”

She frowned. “I want to see my son.”

I wondered what she had in her pockets. “You don't have a son.”

“Hojo, please.” She whimpered, looking tearful. “Let me see him, just for a moment.”

I decided that whatever she had in her pocket had to be good, so I went over and took a look. She started to protest, but the Turk grabbed her arm, holding her. It was in the back pocket of her stylishly casual jeans. A small syringe that had a bluish-black substance in it.

“Very interesting.” I turned and put it on a tray to examine it later. I arched an eyebrow at her. “A vitamin shot?”

She didn't respond, but then what could she say. She never could figure out irony.

“Now, we are going to undo what you did.” I nodded towards Vincent. “If you fail,” I nodded to the Turk. “I think you know what will happen.”

She glanced up at him. “There's nothing to be done. He's dead. He just doesn't know it yet.”

I didn't want to hear that. “Find another answer.”

She tried. For the next five weeks she tried.

Before you start commenting that I was responsible for keeping Vincent in the same state that she had, I want to point out a couple of things. First, after reading some of Gast's notes, I found a reference to having to sedate Vincent a couple of times to prevent his transformations. After I read that, Vincent was always deeply sedated. Second, they inflicted their sick form of science on him with no thought of helping or benefiting him. I kept him in that state with the intention of saving him. I know what they say, and I suppose it is true since we both ended up in hell.

I worked at her side, despising her, for those five weeks, but determined to do something to restore my lover. We covered every aspect of his physical injury. I inspected the Jenova injections and the interactions they had with the mind control substances that were used. She looked into the, what she called “tainted mako”, injections he'd been given which were the cause of stage two. In the end, after looking at the results of our work, I was no closer than I had been to saving Vincent.

I tried everything. I tried potions. I experimented with different infusions of mako. I desperately cobbled together the Tewit serum and injected that directly into his arteries. I tried materia in various combinations. I got in the tank with him and tried physically suturing the wound closed. I am ashamed to say I tried various mixtures of Jenova. Nothing worked.

Veld was of the opinion that we should remove him from the tank and use materia on him, a phoenix down and a mastered cure. If he died, he died clean. It was preferable than to live as a living science experiment.

I didn't want to do that. My fractured mind kept coming up with new ways to save him and parading visions of how happy we'd be when he recovered.

I don't know what Lucrecia's opinion was, no one asked and fewer cared.

In the end, when Veld realized we were just running in circles, he took action. Vincent had been his friend, and he was not going to let Vincent suffer either from my good intentions or Lucrecia's bad ones. He simply had the Turks come into the lab, drag me and Lucrecia out, and pull Vincent's body out onto the scaffolding. When neither the phoenix down nor the cure worked, he said his goodbyes and let Vincent go.

I spent this time screaming, pleading, and thrashing in another room. I hated everyone. I hated Gast for his insane mania for Jenova. I hated Lucrecia for her experimenting on me and Vincent. I hated Shinra for turning blindly away from such atrocities. I hated Sephiroth for being alive while his father was dying. I hate Veld for taking Vincent away from me. I even hated Vincent for leaving me. Mostly, I hated myself for not being able to save him.

When it was over, Veld let me back in. Vincent was laying on the scaffolding. His eyes closed, looking pale. I raced to his side, picked him up, and cuddled him against me, desperately hoping that he was still alive.

Veld didn't let me wallow in my denial long. “He's gone.”

I shook my head. “No. He wouldn't leave. He wouldn't.”

“Say goodby.” He turned and walked down the steps. “We'll take him back to Midgar for burial.”

I think that was when Veld's soul started dying. He was never quite right after that.

I couldn't say goodbye. I just held Vincent, rocking back and forth as if he were Sephiroth needing comfort. The other Turks stepped out and left us, and for a moment I had the urge to put Vincent back into the mako to try to preserve him. My mind spun with all sorts of crazed plans. I suppose the only reason I finally let go was because of the look on Vincent's face.

It was peaceful, as if all the cares he had carried were gone and he was now free in the lifestream.

I put him down carefully and got back to my feet. If Vincent was in the lifestream, then I wanted to be there too. I wouldn't be hard. I had a house full of Turks, thus a house full of weapons. Vincent had taught me many things, many of which were surprisingly handy, and amongst them was how to make a murder look like a suicide. Not a piece of knowledge I used greatly, but it showed me how to accurately kill myself without amateurish mistakes.

I backed up nodding to Vincent's body. “Just wait a moment, I'll be right there.”

I scampered dementedly off to find a weapon. Veld stopped me when I stepped out the door with a hard punch to my jaw. I went down and was scooped up and back in my room before I regained consciousness. I then spent the next few days screaming -it does pass the time if nothing else- and fighting against the cuffs that secured me to the bed. Only when I calmed down did Veld find the key and release me.

Vincent was gone and I was left behind. I wandered blindly around the mansion as if searching for him. I was nudged out of the way of all weaponry and sudden drops, but was otherwise allowed to bounce off walls as I please.

How the next happened, I am not entirely sure.

I can only guess that Veld got overruled by someone in Shinra. Vincent was left in Nibelheim. Months later when I was back in Midgar, I asked my happy, swinish puppet who had ordered that, and he blinked his piggy, little eyes at me and told me I had. I didn't see how I could, I was barely able to talk, either incoherently or coherently, so giving orders to leave Vincent's body in that hellhole was beyond my scope. My suspicions fell on Gast, but I was never able to prove anything.

I finally woke up from my daze and promptly went back to my drinking. It was around this time that I suspect I began having my “blackouts” where time would skip around on me. I would wake up, head up stairs for breakfast, then find myself someplace else like the bar, the garden, or, worse, wandering outside town. At first I found all forms of excuses for my lapses ranging from exhaustion, to drunkenness, to being distracted by work. However, I now believe they were mild and shorter forms of my later weeks long stints of wandering around babbling nonsense. I finally realized that there was a severe problem when I went to feed Sephiroth and found him filthy with a fever and an infection from not having his diapers changed for days, yet in my memory I had only changed his diaper a few hours before.

I had Veld take Sephiroth, who was now actually named Sephiroth, back to Midgar with orders that he was to be kept as far from Gast as possible. I realized around this time that as much as I would wish otherwise, I was not mentally able to take care of my son. Having a father that spent days unable to do more than blink at nothing and couldn't stay sane enough to remember when he was last fed was not a good indicator of happy childhood memories, so I tucked him into his carrier, put him and all his toys on a transport, and stepped out of his life, I thought for good. The Turks were sure to find him a good home. It was one of the few privileges I still had as Vincent's lover. They have a system for this in place since orphaned children were a common occurrence in their line of work.

I was left with Lucrecia, a small compliment of Turks that were assigned to security, and my alcoholism. For a long time, the drinking was all that I concentrated on. The Jenova project was now, as far as I was concerned, as dead as Vincent. All I had to do was clean up the mess and dispose of the body.

If I had known what Jenova would later do to Sephiroth, I would have wasted no time disposing of the monstrosity. As it was, I felt that it was under adequate shielding in the lab and went off to swim through the liquor in Nibelheim. I was still being watched, under Veld's orders, for any suicidal behavior, so I chose a more roundabout way to kill myself off, liver failure. It was a goal, and I wasn't letting anyone get in my way of attaining it.

As for Lucrecia, I left her with the Turks. I guessed she'd gone back to the study of Jenova, but seeing that I was planning on having it and her terminated, I didn't mind. If it kept her out of trouble and out of my sight, I was happy enough.

It was only when I was staggering in the door one fine day, that it occurred to me to be suspicious. Sitting in the foyer was a box with Gast's handwriting on it for Lucrecia. I opened the box and found various solutions of mako and some notes. It was a refinement of the mako experiments that I'd done for Vincent but had no success with. I was more than troubled, I was furious.

I stormed down stairs to the labs, shrugging on my lab coat and stuffing the notes in my pocket. She was kneeling down on the floor looking sick when I came in. To my horror, Vincent's body was back in the mako tube, floating like the specimen she thought he was. I could easily guess what she was doing with my failed mako experiments.

I didn't hear the first part of what she said, but I found it ironic that what I did hear was, “Maybe I've been working too hard.”

I found that funny. She was working too hard experimenting on Vincent, stealing my research, and plotting behind my back. Poor thing.

“I thought I heard a rat down here.” I snarled as I looked down at her and around the lab. It was up and running, but the data on the screens looked different, odd. “And just what were you doing with my failed experiment?”

“Get out of my lab.” Outrage. How precious. She was angry at me for catching her.

“Silence. I'm the one giving orders here.”

She looked so brave, so innocently courageous, I had to laugh. It's amazing how entertained one can be when drunk and insane. I had a good chuckle over her acting skills.

Now, in case you are wondering why I wasn't trying to kill her for using Vincent's body as an experiment, I was. I just wanted the joy of doing it slowly, as slowly as she'd tortured Vincent when he was still alive. I'd had awhile to think it over as I sloshed around Nibelheim's supply of liquor, and I wasn't going to let a few homicidal feelings spoil my fun. If anything, I was now inspired to whole new levels of enthusiasm for my project. But first, I wanted to know what she'd been doing with my failed mako experiment. I was sure it would keep me inspired for weeks. I walked closer to her and took a look at the data that was on the computer monitors.

Demons. I should have known. When waiting for her to recover from Sephiroth's birth, I had looked over her thesis. While it was undoubtedly brilliant, it was also completely insane.

“Omega? And Chaos?” Now I understood. How could I have missed it? The transformations, the gleaming gold eyes, the complete and utter insanity of it all. What a fool I had been. I laughed some more, this time at myself. I looked up at my lover, wondering if he could share the joke. We, Vincent, the cunning leader of the Turks, and I, the brilliant scientist, had been done in by a grad student. We were no more than lab specimens and she was counting on us for her grade. I wondered if she would get an “A” or if experimenting on your coworkers only rated a “B+.” It was hilarious. “I see. Another experiment? You're using this fine specimen to finish your thesis, aren't you, Doctor?”

I wanted to throw my head back and start howling with laughter. It was just all so funny. Done in for a graduate project. She'd even taken out Grimiore. Brilliant! Perfect! I wondered what she'd have done for an encore.

Unhappily, Sephiroth found out.

“No, you're wrong!” She looked outraged.

“Am I? Once a scientist, always a scientist, I must say.” I sneered, looking at Vincent's body. She was far from a scientist. She was barely a charlatan. “How happy this fellow must be, helping his beloved even after he's begun rotting away.”

I walked out, laughing to myself over the situation. How funny! How entertaining! It was a scream…both literally and figuratively. I wondered if she'd get on the honor roll. I wondered if she'd print it in the yearbook. I could see the caption: Such Fun Times! Maybe she'd have a picture of Vincent floating dead in the mako tube with herself standing next to him like a proud fisherman who'd gotten a prize catch. I chuckled my way back to my room and sat down.

Sometime that evening -I think, but it could have been days or even a week later. I definitely lost a bit of time there.-, while I sat watching the sun fade down behind the mountains and chortling insanely at nothing in particular, she bolted off to her cozy mako crystal. The Turk that had been assigned to guard her was found dead with a syringe in his neck. The rest hunted for her, but as you know, she got away. I did locate her, months later when doing research to try to save Vincent. I thought it a fitting end. She encased Vincent in mako, and now she was incased in it.

I only worry what will happen when she decides to step free of her prison. Unlike Vincent, she stepped in voluntarily and can step out any time she wishes. I wonder why he never figured that out. I know he goes to the cave and talks to her. Why can't he realize that she's very, very capable of stepping clear of the mako and standing at his side if she wanted to? It is her choice to ignore his pleas.

The next morning, I went down to the lab to retrieve Vincent's body. This time, I was going to incinerate it. I'd take the ashes back with me when I left for Midgar. The Turks were still out hunting for dearest Lucrecia, so I had to drain the tank and open it myself. I started the procedure and went into the storage area to search for something to transport the body.

I found body bags. They even had our names on them.

How wonderful.

I trudged back into the lab and went up the scaffold to wait. Of all the times I touched and held Vincent, I had never dreaded holding him like I did now. As I stood watching the mako drain out of the tank, I shuddered. The body would be decomposing, cold, and slick from the mako, no more than a discarded shell of the person I loved. The body folded as the liquid slipped away and slumped against the side of the tank. When it was empty, I opened the door and wrapped my arms around the still form.

He was warm.

I grimaced, pulling away slightly. I didn't know what sick thing she'd been doing, but I made a quick note to myself to look into it. I took a deep breath and went to pull the body into the bag. I wrapped my arms around its chest, under the arms and started maneuvering it out of the tank. It only took me a moment to figure out something else.

He was breathing.

“Vincent?” I put him down and scrambled around to his side. “Vincent?”

I pulled the uniform aside. The wound, the horrible wound I had inflicted, was gone. In its place was a scar in the shape of a star. I quickly started making further checks. His pulse was normal. His skin, while dead pale, was warm and pliant to the touch. His eyes though troubled me. They were glowing red-gold, but they reacted normally to light.

“Vincent.” I breathed his name, gently stroking his hair out of his face.

He was alive.