Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ What's Left of Me ❯ My Wasted Life ( Chapter 2 )

A/N: Here's chapter two! I promise it gets better! Just keep reading! Again, sorry if they seem OOC. And I don't know all about Vincent's past, so I'm going on what I've read, so don't yell at me if it's not all right. His exact past is not crucial to the plot, so….yeah. Read and enjoy!

 

Disclaimer: Yeah, don't own it. Sorry.

 

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Vincent walked slowly down the street. He looked up at the moon. It was full tonight. He stared at it a moment. It had been full that night so long ago as well. He suddenly felt a pang in his chest, and he turned his face away.

 

The wind suddenly picked up, blowing his raven hair across his face. It also swept his cloak back, sending a chill through his body that had nothing to do with the frigid north wind. He felt a strange prickling on the edge of his consciousness, and he scowled. He could feel Chaos twisting inside him, wanting to get out, but unable to do so. Once more he felt sick as he thought about the experimentation that had been done on his body; about all the injury he suffered at Hojo's hands and the love he lost to the bastard's “science.”

 

He scoffed at the thought. It was far from science that Hojo performed on his test subjects. It was torture. He tortured the animals that squealed at night in the lab, just as he tortured Sephiroth and Lucrecia.

 

He shook his head. He should have done more to help her. When he found out she was with child, he should have taken her away, and escaped from the lab. But, she had wanted to stay, had wanted to assist Hojo in his inhumane attempts to perfect the human race. He couldn't tell her no. It cut him deeply when she threatened to hate him forever. He should have seen it then.

 

He should have realized that she didn't return his feelings. As he thought back, he knew there might have been a time when she did, but it didn't last. She fell victim to Hojo's ideas of grandeur, and soon she cast him aside, as he was seemingly a hindrance to greatness. Little did she know, had she listened to him, she might have escaped the cruelty, and with her infant son.

 

His heart ached at the thought. He had loved her so deeply, down to every last fiber of his being, and she had so easily cast him aside. Every night since she died, he mourned her death. His heart pined for her, and he was desperately stuck in this rut he had made for himself. What purpose was there to his life if he had not her? How could he go on?

 

He blinked, realizing his feet had led him to a bridge overlooking a river. The moon's reflection sparkled on the murky water as it rippled by. He rested a hand on the rail. It would be so easy to jump, his mind whispered.

 

His crimson eyes stared at the water. It would be easy; to end all his pain and suffering. But, he thought, what would I have to show for my life? He stared into the water contemplatively. My wasted life. He sighed finally. “What life?” he asked.

 

He'd spent years trying to die in the basement of the Shinra mansion. But, the experimentation made sure he would live a long time before he began to waste away. For decades, he'd lain in that coffin, praying to the gods above to take him away. He just wanted the pain and the memories to go away. And he had tried so hard to take his own life. To finish his suffering at the knowledge that she wasn't coming back, and he was wasting his time by lying there, doing nothing.

 

But then, a realization hit him. He would never be rid of his suffering until he defeated the demons that were the cause of it. Until Hojo was dead, and Shinra was brought to the ground. For years, he had lain dormant, until Cloud and his group found him. It was the moment he had waited for. Finally, a reason to leave the mansion; to go on. Albeit, Hojo was gone by then, and Shinra was a crumbling mound, but he had a purpose once more. And for a while that purpose served him.

 

But now, he once more was no longer needed. And he lapsed back into the old mentality. Once again he felt the old pain, and once more he wished for the ultimate release.

 

He closed his eye against the wind that rolled off the water. A vision of Tifa flashed before his eyes. Only if you let it, she had said.

 

His eyes remained closed. “Only if I let it,” he whispered thoughtfully. After a moment or two, he opened his eyes slowly. “Can I?” Could he truly let the pain go? It was part of him, wasn't it? Could he let it go and still retain the fragile bit of who he was? He thought back to Tifa.

 

She had felt loss, and she knew what it was to feel unrequited love. And she had been able to let it go. She had been able to move on with her life. He knew she couldn't make his pain go away, but he could follow her example. He could learn to let the pain go.