This writing was done as a response to mercale's post here. I began on it before the original writer post their conclusion part. If you wish to see their rendition, please go here. This is the first time I write as Reeve, so here goes.
The world was a better place with Reeve Tuesti in it
-- but was the world a better place without Vincent Valentine?
Of late -- precisely for the period of 9 months, 10 days, 9 hours and 16 minutes after his true awakening -- that had came to be the question Reeve Tuesti discovered himself asking. Not aloud of course, for he can be discreet when he so choose to apply, nonetheless, Reeve cannot deny that it did not trouble him.
It had taken him one week to notice that Vincent was no longer there;
-- three weeks before Reeve finally brought himself to admit that, perhaps, this was more than the elusive gunman's usual extensive excursion.
A week after that, the same sensor technologies that are used in Cait Sith were successfully applied in a pair of transparent skin on his hands. These feed a signal regarding the force of his grip directly to the contacts Reeve now is having on. The former assists him with his motor function, as the latter serves as well to disguise the lighter shade of his eyes.
By the end of the fourth week after his true awakening, Reeve found himself having a drink at the Seventh Heaven. An idle question made to both Tifa and Cloud, who happened to be there after a delivery for the W.R.O., was met with a small shaking of head. They have not seen Vincent for awhile, but that is nothing new.
On the seventh week, Shalua sent Shelke to him. It appeared the elder Rui still kept the shards from the first mug he broke, and she thought he might still want them. A sentimentalism linked back toward his first position at the W.R.O, she believed; while she had not addressed one aloud, much was implied.
Shelke told him she had not seen Vincent either, not even with her Dive.
At 10.47 in the morning on Wednesday of the twelfth week, Reeve was staring at the mug he had glued back together when Cid helped himself into his office. The long enduring task was a part of the test to help calibrate the recently developed sensors, a Mk II model, so he told himself.
Even while he was listening to Cid, Reeve's own hands folded together in a loose tent in front of him, he still could not help shifting his gaze back toward the missing red piece that would have completed the porcelain's broken handle. They talked about the previous transportation to Kalm. They talked about the weather, and possible upgrades they might have of the Highwind. They talked about the town Cid had visited and of old friends reacquainted.
Vincent's name was not in there.
He's still missing;
& Cid was worried.
It seemed
the gunman has been less frequent in his unannounced visit.
Reeve told Cid that he should not be too concerned, and added that Vincent would probably appear in their Avalanche's get-together, the one that was supposed to be held in the next seven weeks. Cid agreed, but he had not looked too convinced.
Cait Sith discovered the piece Reeve had lost on the weekend of the sixteenth week. The trouble with Edge's drainage system, in combination with the storm they were having, only exacerbated their situations. He had little sleep, and the man who returned his gaze in the morning was still the man he did not remember being.
But somehow, the glow in that man's pair of eyes seemed to have dulled. Cait Sith said he was a fool. They had not outright disagreed for quite some time. Reeve thought it started after the pain in his ribs, but he could be wrong.
He was wrong about many things and he still hadn't the time to fit in that last piece on the mug.
Avalanche spent their reunion without Vincent. It was not as if it has not happened before but Reeve still found it disheartening. They did not know what he knew.
Vincent l e a v e because of him
& and no amount of d e n i a l .
could fix that.
He told them,
they should know already,
how the gunman could be.
He did not tell them he did not think Vincent was coming back.
All men require time to grieve in their own ways.
It was near the ending of Avalanche's meeting on the twentieth week after his awakening that Nanaki left, mentioning another drink he owed Vincent, as Vincent owed him. Reeve knew the loud noise currently assaulting his ear drums was the sound of his own heart -- it had not left him flinch.
Thirty-sixth weeks after his true awakening, Reeve found himself toying with a piece of red shard as he waited. He supposed Nanaki would have been meeting with Vincent at the moment, perhaps sharing a laugh -- alright, knowing Vincent, it would probably be more of a low chuckle that had often sent bood coursing through Reeve's veins -- over their glasses of moonshine. Reeve closes his eyes, allowing his imagination to run along. Somewhere in time tonight, Nanaki would give Vincent that first mug he broke, along with a letter.
Somewhere in time tonight, or probably close to dawn, Vincent will be reading.
I seem to have misplaced one of its pieces but I know a hired hand who could track down almost anything.
Reeve knows he has never been a better man
Not without you.
