Catch Me -A FFVII Fic-

Vincent Valentine was never known to miss his target; not even when he had Blind afflicted upon him, he could still hit his target fatally with such deadly accuracy it had originally staggered everyone in the group except for one--a feat that, to this day, still saved them time and again.

Vincent himself was confidant in his shots, yet he was never one to brag or boast about his accomplishments. A certain blond haired hero had watched from the side once, his glowing eyes entranced by the fluidity and ease the gunman made it seem.

Once, Yuffie had dared to challenge Vincent's claim in an accuracy contest. There was never any need, for the blond knew without a doubt who would win, yet conceeded anyway for he never passed an opportunity to watch the ex-Turk. He could remember the tests he'd had been through in Shinra, the standard ones, then the second and third tier ones that trained in marksmanship. Zack had encouraged him to try for the fourth before that fateful day had arrived...

He quickly snapped himself from the reverie and watched as targets were set. It went well for Yuffie for the first twenty rounds, her aim and arm were decent, but Vincent never batted an eyelash or paused to calculate the distance--he simply raised his weapon and fired wordlessly.

Their eyes caught for a fraction of a second. Whether it was to impress him, or something else, Vincent raised the gun a little higher, eyes narrowing mildly and--bang--with only a snipers accuracy, a bullet hit the farthest target about half a mile away. From just a pistol. Cloud could only stare with slightly parted lips.

Vincent quietly, but gracefully put Cerberus back into its holster on his thigh and stalked away, leaving a gawking crowd in his wake.

There came a night, weeks later and the incident had passed, that Cloud found himself without sleep. He could not, pain laced his body and memories haunted his consciousness. He stumbled without thought outside towards his motorbike, he kicked the kickstand up and brought the engine to life. He took off moments later. He was unsure if he was running, or getting away to protect the others from himself. His glossed eyes were foggy from the mako and he was too distracted to notice the flutter of red wings above him.

He soon forgot how far he went, and didn't care, but soon his body began to ache from the plauging pain, the constant ache of old wounds and prior memories of a time spent confined within a glass cage.

He skidded the bike to a stop, clutching his head as he stumbled off of it, wearily sliding down to his knees. Voices, both familliar and unfamilliar crowded his mind and he wanted to scream for it to stop. As soon as it had come, like a flash, it was gone and he was left to find himself lying there face up on the ground staring at the cloudless, midnight sky.

A vague memory about how stars reminded Zack about Aerith flitted through his head, before he shook it clear. He sighed heavily. Again, the commonplace irony of mismatched memories seemed to become more and more annoying to him as he tried to decide on his own thoughts of the sky. He was just about to come to a conclusion on the inner debate when crimson greeted his vision and embers bore into his glossy eyes.

Vincent. The fates seemed to have fun playing off of his feelings, didn't they? Or at least, what feelings were actually his. The other was silent and simply held out his hand. He took it and allowed the older man to pull him to his feet. He sighed again, murmuring something along the lines of a thank you and an apology.

The long haired man shook his own head, there was a gentle understanding alight in his eyes, though he didn't voice whatever thought it was he was holding back. Cloud found himself lost for a long moment, he moved, finding himself needing the assurace that he was still within this reality. Vincent's hand stilled him, and silently guided him back towards him until they were standing facing one another again.

Cloud slumped forward until he could feel his forehead meet the man's shoulder. He said something, but he couldn't hear it himself, he wasn't even sure the other heard it, either. A question of somekind, but he couldn't be sure. He couldn't do this, continue to live this double existence. Something was going to give, his mind was still fragmented; what Tifa had fixed was only part of it. He wanted to be whole again.

There was silence, and he was sure the other hadn't heard him. He lifted his head and went to apologize, but their eyes met once again. Vincent's hand rose up and Cloud flinched automatically, a prior memory flashing inside of his mind, before he stilled. The male frowned, but said nothing still as he let his gloved hand slowly cup against Cloud's cheek. The touch seemed so unexpected, he wasn't sure if it was real or not--if he was still within reality or had slipped once more.

Hesitant to make sure, his own hand rose, his glossed eyes saw through his trembling and it didn't even register that he was shaking all over. Warmth, warmth, he needed warmth. He felt cold, his mind suddenly registered and his hand closed over Vincent's his fingers clutching at him desperately as he rose his head to peer into the others crimson eyes.

This, whatever this was, this moment; it was so simple, and yet...Cloud was still unsure of whether he was existing or had faded away completely into the recesses of his mind. However, Vincent seemed to know, and he trusted the man. He sank towards the man when he guided him forward and became completely submerged into a cesspool of warmth seconds later.

How was it, he tried to think, that he could become so completely undone by this one person? How was it, that he needed to be undone by him? Because he himself didn't understand, but he could? Because he wanted to be? He no longer cared anymore.

"Don't worry," Vincent murmured to him quietly, finally breaking the silence.

"I'll always catch you, my falling sparrow."

Cloud Strife had his answer to the question he'd all but forgotten he'd asked.