It was not so unusual for Vincent to be comforting someone who'd been through a trauma. He'd taken care of Tseng and Elena after what the Remnants did to them, he'd helped a few people after the Battle Royale incident, he'd spoken with Reeve after Deep Ground had attacked, and helped to nurse Anael back to health somewhat, before... well. That
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Cloud squeezes Sephiroth's hand again, trying to calm him down.
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"He kept calling me - 'beautiful' - 'perfect' - I hated it, I'm not beautiful, I'm not perfect - wouldn't listen - when I told him not to - just kept calling me that--" He sucks in a breath that seems to sear his chest like the pierce of a hot knife, but barely notices the pain this time. "Wanted - to scream. Want to scream."
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Vincent gives a bitter sort of laugh. "No one is perfect. And if you want to scream, do. Maybe it will help."
When he fails to elaborate on the other topic, Cloud steps in. "You're pretty-- and that's not a bad thing. Don't let him make you feel bad for it, okay? ...To be really beautiful, where it really counts... that doesn't have to do with what you can see. I'm... not exactly the best person to be preaching this; I know I've screwed it up more times than I can count, but... accept who you are. Like Angeal would say, 'be proud of who you are.' Be good to people, and you'll be more beautiful than he could ever hope to get his sick mind around."
"Cloud--" Vincent interjected, "It's not the same thing." He thought on what he wanted to say, then spoke. "If you throw away everything he said, you throw away the truth with the lies. The joy with the pain. Listen. You are beautiful. Not in the way he wanted ( ... )
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"I...I don't...understand. How am I...beautiful...or perfect...in any way...?" He shakes his head slightly. "I am...twisted. Warped. Disgusting. I can never be beautiful - I can never be pure." He thinks of his own Cloud at that, and a few tears escape.
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"Vincent!" Cloud is horrified.
Vincent glances at Cloud, part confused, part annoyed, but allowing the other man to interrupt.
"No, it isn't." Cloud sounds sure of this. "There's something that's still pure, in each of us. No one can take that away."
Vincent looks away. Cloud continues, "But Vince is right about the other thing," he continues, "You're not disgusting. Your genes have been twisted, but so have a lot of other good people's. And you don't have to be warped. You can recover. It might take a while, but you can."
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Beside Cloud, Vincent rolls his eyes. A beautiful speech, but pointless, as Cloud seemed to have missed the whole reason behind Sephiroth's outburst. "You're right. I don't know. So tell me."
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He looks sidelong at Vincent, hesitates a long moment before he actually says anything. "For as long as I can remember," he starts (which probably means his entire life), "I was...treated rather interestingly." He doesn't really think that's the best word for it, but it'll do for now. "I was to be raised to be stronger, smarter, faster, better than anyone. But this, in turn, left...gaps, I suppose...that would not easily be filled."
He shakes his head and snorts. "My first...real memory...is coming out of a training room at perhaps four years of age, bleeding heavily, covered in - goddess only knows what - from the...failed experiments I was...forced to put out of their misery." A wince crosses his face, but he goes on nonetheless. "I remember being asked 'doesn ( ... )
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Cloud looks a little freaked out, first at Seph's admission, then even worse, when it was supplemented by Vincent's.
After a long pause, Vincent continues. "Different... doesn't mean bad. If you'd refused, they would have punished you." He looks away. "And they would have killed your... opponent, anyway. You gave them a quick death. It was the best you could offer."
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He's having trouble breathing again; he closes his eyes, tries to take deep breaths. "At first, I was simply scolded with words. As I grew, it became physical as well as verbal. And when I developed enough free will and compassion to insist on taking punishments for my brothers as well, it..." He chokes on the remaining words and can't go on, but his entire posture says it for him.
He manages to go on after a few moments, picking up as if he had finished his sentence after all. "...The man who called himself my father took it upon himself to assure I would never want to be in a situation of any...intimacy. Not only to tear down the part of me that would feel that way, but as a punishment as well." He can't help a bitter, broken laugh, shaking his head. "I cannot say he ( ... )
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The rest of that... well. He closed his eyes in an effort to hold back the memories. Trying to hug Sephiroth gently, he quietly admitted "I know." And he did; through and through. He knew; he'd been there; he was still confused and hurt now.
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Cloud squeezes Sephiroth's hand, again. "It's okay, now. It's all over."
Okay, now. Yes, Vincent thinks. And what part of what we did was okay? Does its having happened in the past make me less of a hideous murderer?
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He's still not remembering how to breathe.
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Vincent sighs, preparing himself to do something terrible in order to help. He rolls Seph over harshly, grabbing both of the teen's shoulders to get his attention as sharply as he could get it. "Breathe."
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Not that it really matters then - he gasps suddenly, chokes on the air for a moment and then dissolves into quiet, lost, helpless weeping, the instinct to fight going out of him, the tension stringing each muscle painfully taut abruptly vanishing and leaving him utterly limp in something that almost seems as if it could be relief.
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