Lucky Men and Banana Bread

"I found a reason for me/ to change who I used to be/ a reason to start over new/ and the reason is you"
– The Reason, Hoobastank

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Cloud asked.

Vincent turned his head to look at Cloud, his cheek resting against the blanket thrown across the rough tiles of the roof. Denzel was fast asleep between them, tired from a long day.

"I don't know," Vincent admitted. Hargo had called that evening, asking Vincent to arrange transportation to the crystal grotto. Her portable crystal–tuning machine was finished, she assured him, and already run through a battery of tests to ensure success. It had made butterflies flutter and jump in Vincent's chest, a feeling long forgotten but perpetually in context to Lucrecia.

The two men gazed at the night sky in silence. Denzel muttered, rubbing his cold arms in his sleep – the early autumn night was brisk and chilly – and Cloud sat up and pulled the blanket out from underneath him to sit on the tiles, wrapping the extra fabric around Denzel. Vincent watched as Cloud smiled down at the boy, now soundly asleep. "I never thought…" Cloud began, then cut off, shaking his head. "I brought him home for Tifa. I thought she needed someone to care for, and he needed someone to care for him. I wanted to anchor her down so she wouldn't chase after me, so I could continue running away. But the thing is," Cloud reached out and brushed a strand of auburn hair from Denzel's cheek, "I needed him." He looked up at Vincent, his wide blue eyes filled with wonder. "He's the only one out of the whole bunch of us that's honest with himself." Cloud shook his head slightly, a smile creeping across his face. "That's why we do this. Weekly guy–time. Because he needs me, and I need him." He leaned back again. "And that's what makes us family."

It really is that simple, Vincent thought to himself. My days of naivety are past, but that doesn't mean it has to be complicated. "You're a lucky man, Cloud."

"Yes, I am," Cloud grinned and rolled to one side to dig something from his pocket. "And I'm going to get luckier." He pulled out a sleek, black box and tossed it to Vincent. Nestled inside was a half–carat diamond surrounded by the smoothest, smallest pearls Vincent had ever seen, the silver band shimmering in the faint starlight. "I can't avoid having Barret as my best man, you know, but will you be a groomsman?" Cloud scratched his head awkwardly. "Of course, that's assuming she says yes."

Vincent tossed the box back with a nod, and between them, Denzel grunted contentedly in his slumber. "When?"

Cloud rolled the box between his palms, intent. "I'm not sure. Once I get my courage up." Cloud took a deep breath. "Honestly, I'd rather face a tonberry." He glanced at Vincent. "There's less potential humiliation in that."

Vincent chuckled softly. "I know what you mean." He sighed, thinking of Cloud's earlier question. "I'm not nervous. I'm not afraid. But I'm not ready."

Cloud reached a hand across the gap to clasp Vincent's shoulder. "We'll all be there for you, Vincent. Whatever happens." He shrugged. "You're family; we need you. And Lucrecia, she'll become family too. You'll always be welcome in my home, Vincent." Cloud's eyes flickered down to Denzel again. "You'll always be welcomed by my family."

Vincent caught Cloud's eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Cloud shoved the box back into his pocket as a clattering rose from the metal rungs of the fire escape. Marlene's bright little face rose above the edge of the roof, ecstatic. "You guys! Tifa made banana bread!"

Cloud reached over and hauled her off the ladder as Denzel stirred. "Marlene! You're not supposed to be on the fire escape!" Denzel sat up as Marlene wriggled her way out of Cloud's grasp and threw herself at Vincent, tangling herself in the blanket and Vincent's cloak.

"You hafta try Tifa's bread!" She exclaimed, staring up at Vincent with wide eyes. "She mashes the bananas all in a bowl and adds sugar and flour and it makes bread." She said it like it was a wonder of the world, and she was obviously perplexed by Cloud's laugh. Vincent looked down at her and thought, This child has been deprived of a normal life for too long.

"Let's go try some bread, Marlene," he said, holding her with one arm as he climbed down the ladder, his claw scraping at the rungs. Cloud helped Denzel down and the four of them made their way through Cloud's window to the kitchen, where Tifa was slicing a steaming loaf of banana bread. It was the most delicious thing Vincent had smelled in a long time.

After the kids were settled with thick slices, Cloud leaned against the counter next to Vincent, each cradling pieces of their own. Tifa was pouring milk for the kids at the table, and she glanced over her shoulder and shot Cloud one of those radiant smiles, wide and mischievous and warm. Cloud's hunk of bread paused halfway to his mouth and Vincent could see his breath catch in his throat as she turned back and slid full glasses in front of oblivious children, enjoying the wonder of fresh–baked bread too thoroughly to notice.

"You're a lucky man," Vincent repeated.

Cloud set his napkin down on the counter and glanced at Vincent briefly. "So are you, Vincent. Second chances don't come often." And he crossed the kitchen to slide a hand across Tifa's waist, leaning down to whisper something in her ear and make her blush.

That could me and Lucrecia, Vincent thought, in this kitchen, until we get our own. These are my friends, my family, but they can be hers as well. Vincent knew that he would watch them grow old, see them welcomed by the Lifestream; but there was Marlene and Denzel and Colin that were family, and their children, and their children's children, to look after; and it would bearable, because he would have Lucrecia standing by his side. I think I'm ready.

The birds were chirping, the sun was high, and Vincent stared down at the ring in his hand, a chip of diamond embedded in battered, secondhand gold, as Lucrecia hugged her knees on the blanket in front of him, her eyes lost. Vincent… she whispered, eyes huge and glistening with tears.

Why not? He asked her, angry only because he was heartbroken, the only thing that had ever given him hope shattered into fragments in front of him. You love me, why not?

She shook her head. Please, don't…

She had humiliated him in front of the whole town, his fellow Turks, by turning him down while Hojo watched and laughed. Suddenly the sun was too hot, the birds too loud and he couldn't stop himself, couldn't stop the flood that was ramming the dams inside him. You love me! He caught himself, voice too loud as she cowered, dipped her face against her knees to hide. You love me, he repeated softer, why not?

Now is not the time, She said and got to her feet, smearing her eyeliner as she wiped the tears away. Please, please, don't do this now.

Now? Vincent asked, clenching his fist and feeling the useless diamond cut into his palm, sharp and stinging and more real than the woman in front of him, more real because pain was tangible and love wasn't. Pain was neural pathways and warning signals, something a Turk knew how to control – control that he'd lost once she'd laughed under this tree and slipped her tongue in his mouth and gave up more than she'd meant to give, wine and blood and birds chirping and sunlight burning his eyelids, and she walked away and he watched her knees shake and wondered: when? When can I love you? When will you let me?

A knock came on his door and Vincent sat upright, startled. The knock was soft and it came from low on the door, and Vincent smile as he came to his feet to open it. Marlene was there, clutching Choco, and Vincent dropped to a knee as she fluttered eyelashes up at him, and he wasn't sure if she learned that from Yuffie or Tifa.

He raised an eyebrow. "You can assure Choco that I am fine."

She stuck a lip out. "He wasn't worried." Those big, liquid eyes turned up at him. "I was."

He scooped her up off the floor with one arm, shutting the door with the other, and deposited the young girl on his bed. A hand snaked under his pillow and freed Moogle, and she snatched him from Vincent's grip and hugged him to her chest. "You sleep with him?"

Vincent smiled. "I do."

"Can I stay, too?" She asked, yawning.

"Of course," Vincent told her, no longer afraid of the things that came to him in the night, no longer afraid that his torment would be passed onto others. Marlene promptly began building a fort of pillows and blankets, using the posts of the bed for support. Vincent watched her before she pulled him into the cramped "fort", poking and prodding him to lay at her bidding until she was content with the arrangement. And then she fell asleep against his chest, Choco and Moogle wedged between them, her little chest rising and falling.

Vincent laid his good hand across her back, content with watching her peaceful face shift and her eyes dart in her sleep. Cloud was right, and Cloud was right more and more often these days: he needed her, she needed him, and that was what made them family. That was what gave him hope.

Vincent fell asleep, a crystal glow washing over him, warm like restoring magic and twice as pleasant. Tomorrow was a second chance, a new life, and it was one with family.