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It's like one big mass of testosterone.
Tifa half-smiled at the three men, who had been staring at each other and wasting the ever-passing minutes by doing nothing else - apparently the eloquence of conversation was lost some time ago (and never mind that they were supposed to be coming up with a successful plan to find a way into ShinRa once again). The only thing the three men could agree on, however, was to stare so venomously at each other until their eyes crusted over.
Or fell out.
It was Cid and Barret who had been arguing, a disagreement of ideas, she supposed. Vincent merely stood there, leaning against the helicopter, ready to stop a fight that would most certainly be happening at any moment now. Even so, it was an interesting little tableau; Cid and Barret were sitting on the roof, before the helicopter and Vincent, most likely in more than an inch of rainwater, glaring at each other as if that would make any difference whatsoever.
Since she and Vincent had stepped foot onto the rain-soaked roof, Cid and Barret had been in the midst of a discussion. The conversation took a fatal turn once Barret took the liberty of reminding Cid who exactly was to blame for the incident in ShinRa. (Actually, his choice of words had been, "Way to get us caught, Highwind.") Cid, of course, retaliated by reminding the big man that he and Vincent could leave at any time and that they would then "...have to kiss Cloud's spiky, yellow head goodbye."
"Gentlemen, please," chided Tifa. Gentlemen indeed. "You can't stare at each other all night. If it makes you feel any better, then I'll come up with the plan instead."
Vincent scarcely turned his head to her. "I think that would be the most successful way out of this."
Tifa cringed slightly. Wonderful. She was almost certain that either Cid or Barret - particularly Cid - would have objected to her words. Certainly three able-bodied men could easily come up with a plan... Tifa snorted and rethought that.
One able-bodied woman could come up with a much better one.
A smile appeared to replace that frown. Of course she'd do it, as well and with as much vigor as she would tackle any endeavor. Tifa neatly folded Vincent's cloak and handed it back to him. He took the offered cloak with an outstretched hand and without so much as a word or a look in her direction. His bare neck was arched to the side, some damp and stray hairs sticking to it, a few droplets of what used to be beaded water sliding down the invisible patterns in his skin. The blue glow of the underground world this night cast the most unearthly blush on him.
She swore the man was a ghost sometimes.
Tifa's hand stayed outstretched for a moment more, before she realized that she indeed had it like that - arm out towards Vincent, fingernails pressing lightly into her palm, the most ridiculous expression upon her face. This was happening much more than she would have liked to admit. Shaking her head, Tifa walked back to the door she and Vincent had come from earlier and leaned against it with stubbornly pursed lips. She would have sat down, but she wasn't as eager as Cid and Barret to get her newly dried clothes wet. Crossing her arms across her chest, and watching the looming tower in the distance, Tifa scrunched her eyebrows together.
Then she heard it. It was soft at first, gradually becoming louder as the seconds passed. And the moment she heard it, that rare but unmistakable laugher, she felt her lips pull upward.
Vincent pushed himself off of the helicopter with fluent ease, and turned around in Tifa's direction, a small swell of water briefly parting the air between the two. The smile on his face had vanished, along with all signs that there had ever been one to begin with, and he stood next to Tifa silently, placing his cloak back around her smaller frame. "You won't get any thinking done tonight, Lockheart. And I'm sure Cid won't be surrendering any time soon." Vincent could think of plenty of examples when Cid's stubbornness had gotten them both in serious trouble, serious enough to even sober the ex-pilot. They had always managed to get themselves out of it, nevertheless.
Tifa sighed, watching Barret and Cid continue their 'contest of wits'. "Neither will Barret."
Vincent smirked.
"Then we have quite the dilemma."
***
"I guess entering through the front door's no longer an option," Tifa remarked dryly. She and Vincent had left the oblivious Cid and Barret to the other side of the roof, behind the doorway, and now were sitting on its edge with their feet dangling carelessly over the world below. The view from their new spot showed more of the bare, metal wall that surrounded the city, and even less of the sky through thick pipes. But Tifa appreciated it, since she no longer could see the ShinRa building and the fine layer of mist that seemed to always surround it.
Vincent bowed his head, letting more thick raven locks shadow his face. "I suppose not. ShinRa's security will be twofold now. We can't stay here for much longer, either. This helicopter will lead them to us - we have to leave it behind." Vincent automatically thought of Cid and his would-be displeasure with that suggestion.
Tifa tucked her hair behind her ears, then smoothed it over a few times with curved fingers, vainly trying to keep those persistent strands in one place. "I heard there's a spot somewhere in Midgar..." She tilted her head to the side a little, her eyes watching something Vincent couldn't see. Even so, he watched with her. "It's flooded with light from the cracks and the breaks in the pipes." She laughed softly, her voice sounding as gentle and as graceful as the silent wind that kissed her companion's cheeks. "I heard it let's you see heaven." Tifa could see Vincent's eyebrows knit in obvious skepticism of the subject. Or perhaps he was simply trying to understand a concept so foreign to him. "When I first came to this place, I tried looking for it. I don't think I ever found it, though."
Vincent's eyes searched her, calmly watching the small smile that forced its way onto her face. It left quickly, however, and she lowered her head. He didn't understand her reason for mentioning that - what a bizarre thing to say at the moment.
You'd think of heaven, even now, Tifa?
She turned her head to him, that beautiful smile etched upon her lips. His eyebrows rose slowly when she reached out her hand to tuck her forefinger and her middle finger beneath the red band around his head. With a small push, it moved up his forehead, exposing more of his eyes and causing most of the shadows on his face to scatter. "Do you believe there's one, Vincent?"
Heaven's for God-fearing humans, not manmade monsters.
Vincent turned his head away from her touch. Heaven. The very thing was inconceivable - yet if he had been in a more pleasant mood (in fact, if he had been in a more pleasant lifetime), he might have tried to convince himself otherwise. The idea of such a place seemed too farfetched to ever be a reality. "No." His voice was fairly indifferent. "How could there be?" He didn't look to see Tifa's expression, and he very well didn't wish to hear her response. He nearly bit his tongue for so foolishly letting those words slip from his mouth. The last thing Tifa needed was more cynicism, more hopelessness.
But her response was just the opposite.
"I think there's one."
"Why?" Vincent felt the word force its way passed his lips, as if all of his cynicism and all of his doubt could be permitted leave through that very word. Somehow he wished that it could be. "Where's your proof that it exists?" It sounded resentful, and she could have sworn that she heard him scoff shortly afterwards.
Tifa shook her head, as if wanting to dismiss the whole conversation; truth be told, Vincent wouldn't have minded if she had. Actually, he would have preferred it. After a time, a long moment of simply sharing each other's silence, Vincent thought that perhaps she had given up on convincing him of anything. But soon enough Tifa quietly responded, "Where's your proof that it doesn't?"
"My proof?" He practically spat those words. His usually calm demeanor shattered in that instant and Tifa could plainly hear the touch of anger behind those words. He wanted to tell her that his proof lied solely in his life, in all of the torture and in all of the misery that he had endured. Vincent's lips split apart as if to answer with just that, proving that this belief was just a fairytale; heaven exited solely in the minds of the hopeful. He watched her quietly, watched as her beautiful, curious face creased with that gentle smile, and he closed his mouth tightly. Tifa could just have easily said that that alone was proof enough of God and heaven; he had endured, he had suffered, and yet here he was, still standing.
Vincent closed his eyes and breathed in. "You're impossible, Tifa. This whole concept is impossible. Neither of us is going to prove anything to the other. Now unless you can part the skies and take me to heaven, I suggest you let this conversation end."
He heard her sigh and the soft rustle of his cloak as she moved to tuck her legs beneath her. A while passed before she simply said, "You're my proof, Valentine."
Vincent felt his jaw tighten.
Don't-
"You're going to do the impossible. You're going to save someone for me; you're going to bring him home. You're going to give me a miracle, whether you believe in them or not," there was a sharp intake of air, "then I'm going to find that place and I'm going take you there." Those strands of velvet chocolate escaped from behind her ears and fell to her cheeks softly. Her eyes smiled at him. "And without parting the skies, either."
The smell of rainwater and metal touched Vincent's nose, and for a moment he felt something inside of himself stir, something nearly hopeful. But whatever that feeling was, it departed as fast as it came. Even if heaven did exist, I wouldn't be going there. He felt his stomach wrench and knot - that same maddening feel he once felt whenever he thought of his past. When he had finally put those days behind him, he almost convinced himself that he no longer had to feel that again.
Tifa couldn't see his monsters. She could only see him.
That frightened him.
"I told you that I would find Strife for you. I promised nothing of heaven," he said softly.
Tifa's smile was lost quickly in Vincent's quiet reminder. Cloud. She had tried to picture him on several occasions since they had left, trying and failing miserably. All she could see were those pale and gray faces on worn paper. Tifa felt a slight twinge of panic, and she nearly stood up to ask for that photo she had given to Cid - did he still have it? Tifa closed her eyes tightly. Had he really been gone for that long? Wasn't it just a few months now? Four? Five? The thought that perhaps she would never see him again wasn't nearly as alarming as the fact that she had found it quite easy to forget him.
Tifa nodded after he spoke, though perhaps she never heard his words, and she craned her neck upwards to look at the pipe-covered sky. "What happens when you find him?"
"Tifa," Vincent said quietly; there was cautiousness behind that one word, and it nearly sounded like a warning. He wasn't about to get into the delicacy of this Strife business. Thinking the boy's name was enough for him, knowing that he was doing this partially because of him was almost hypocritical, and knowing that in the end... Vincent simply shook his head.
But Tifa ignored his gentle chides and persistently moved closer to him. "I'm curious. What happens?" Her tone was just as forceful, just as relentless.
Vincent allowed her a small glance, one which he thought remained as blank and as devoid of any real thought on the matter as it usually did. But Tifa saw more than that. Her bounty hunter sighed softly. "To what?"
"To you, to him... Do you think he left us purposely?" Tifa's eyes probed, convinced that she would find something there in his. And she saw certainty, the certainty of a man that knew very well what she meant. But his words spoke only half truths.
"You know I can't answer that. There's barely any evidence either way. Barret seems to think he went to rejoin ShinRa... You're telling me that they took him." That red band of his slowly fell down to cover most of his eyebrows, making his expressionless face even more impassive. "If they took him, he must have known something. And in that case, he might already be..."
"I know."
There was a small pause, as if Vincent was waiting for whatever discomfort there was on the subject to vanish.
He turned his head to finally look at her, only to see that she was staring at her own folded hands, which rested comfortably on her cloak-covered lap, her lips pursed together to form a pink line. "Tifa," he said softly, trying to gain her attention once more. "If Cloud rejoined ShinRa, then we might have to fight him." It still didn't seem to catch the girl's attention, although he was certain she had heard him; she seemed to be almost reluctant to even spare a glance towards her bounty hunter. Vincent finally looked away. "Whichever the outcome, it will be... unpleasant for me."
She laughed, and Vincent frowned more so. "Unpleasant?" Tifa nearly choked over the word in a mixture of bitterness and feigned amusement. "You don't care about Cloud."
"Honestly, no." He added nothing more to that, no false words of comfort, no lies to make her feel better. He offered her nothing but his truth; he didn't give a damn about the boy who caused her so much misery and he most certainly would find no pleasure in handing her back to him. Vincent realized where his thoughts were taking him and that his fingers were holding onto the granite of the roof so tightly that his knuckles had turned completely white. He loosened his hold and rested his fingers on the roof's edge timidly. He was thinking too much on the subject again. Vincent closed his eyes - things were becoming much too complicated and the finding of that Strife boy would only make matters worse.
I don't care about him. But you do - whether love or not, you still care.
Vincent moved his head slightly, though his red eyes never fell on her. "I need to know something, Tifa." Tifa's hands went beneath the red cloak, but she said nothing. Her bounty hunter stood up from the roof's edge and turned his back to her. "If we must fight him-"
"I don't know, Vincent." Her voice never once trembled. Her answer was as sure as it would ever be on that particular subject.
Fair enough.
Vincent left Tifa to the other side of the roof. Cid and Barret were standing now, no longer staring at each other, just simply making idle conversation. Vincent would have smiled, one of those small, fragile smiles of his, if his thoughts had not been lingering on Cloud Strife. He walked up to both men, his arms folded and his expression blank. Cid still had that wet, limp cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, and Barret was brushing away whatever stagnant raindrops scattered his gun-arm. Barret looked up and nodded to him. Cid smiled broadly.
"Tifa come up with anything, Vin?"
Vincent simply shook his head.
Cid held his cigarette, pinched forcefully between two fingers, with a grim smile on his face. "I can't see a way outta this, boys. If we ever find a way in, Strife's fate seems to be sealed. Maybe we oughtta just... leave this one alone." He was cautiously lingering on those last words, purposely trying to get a reaction from Barret. But the big man simply shrugged, already calling Cid's bluff.
"Do whatever ya want, Cid," came Barret's unmoved reply.
Cid smiled and jabbed Vincent with his elbow. "Shit, he sees right through me." He casually flicked the slender stick to the ground. Cid pulled off his gloves, stuffed them into his back pocket and asked in a much lower voice, "what do you think, Vin?"
"I thought the money was of interest to you, Cid."
Cid frowned. "I kinda... uh, rejected... the money." He seemed to wince just recalling the matter. "Figured we didn't really need it anyway."
It was a fairly obvious lie, even to Barret. They could very well use the money, but they had lived off of far less than what gil they currently had between them, so the bounty hunter didn't think much of it. Of course it helped that Vincent didn't care about the money. Besides, it seemed that Cid was beginning to grow an attachment with Barret and his little Avalanche group (even more so than Vincent first thought, especially if he was giving up three thousand to them).
Vincent smiled faintly. "Acts of charity, Cid? Never would have imagined that from you."
His friend shrugged. "What the hell do you care? They could use it more than us, anyway." Cid desperately tried to brush it off as nothing, but Vincent already read Cid, the proverbial open book. Cid knew it, Vincent knew it. So they both left it at that.
The ex-pilot slipped an arm around the cloak-less bounty hunter. "Hey, we always have the helicopter to pawn, right?" He meant it as a joke, of course. He would never think of getting rid of what he deemed to be the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.
Vincent coughed. "Actually-"
"It can't fit where we're going, Cid."
Tifa stepped besides Vincent, as if the shadows had finally let her go and she simply appeared there. In fact, she could have been standing behind them both for some time now. She was getting good at that... Perhaps it was the cloak.
"What the hell do you mean? I finally got something I can friggin' fly!"
Tifa unfolded her arms underneath Vincent's cloak. "Cid, you can't fly in the sewers."
The perpetual darkness of the City of Ghosts was about to look like the light of heaven.
Vincent smiled.
"Sewers? Tifa, this whole damn place is a sewer." Cid smacked his packet of cigarettes on his palm a few times before looking it over in his hands. I really oughtta quit... He grinned. He'd have plenty of time to do that later. Cid placed a fresh cigarette between his lips and slipped his hands back into his pockets for his lighter.
"There's a sewer that runs beneath this city. Maybe there's a way to get into ShinRa from there." Tifa looked around at the somewhat surprised faces watching her. "I said I'd come up with something, didn't I?"
"Knew ya would, Tifa." Barret nodded his approval. "And the good thing is that there's plenty of ways to enter. 'Course I don't know which place leads to the other, but maybe Valentine here does." The big man ran his fingers over his closely cropped hair, forcing lingering beads of water to roll down his neck. "He might've spent a good 'mount of time down there."
A sewer beneath a sewer. Vincent should have remembered something as absurd as that existing here. And he would have loved to tell Barret that he wasn't a walking map of Midgar's sewer systems, but he believed he could feign his way through a few dark pipes. He moved best in the dark and he loved to dabble in hopeless mazes (in all its sense of the word). Vincent's blank stare met with Barret's dark eyes. "I'm sure I could find my way."
"Good enough for me." Barret swung open the metal door of the roof's exit. "Might as well move our asses now." He held the door open for a moment before he and his heavy boots descended down the steps. The last thing the big man wanted was to waste time when it came to ShinRa. The faster they got Strife, the faster he could go back to planning the corporation's demise.
Vincent looked silently at both Tifa and Cid, then followed the leader of Avalanche. With a quick pull of her bounty hunter's red cloak, Tifa started after both men.
"Hey, wait a minute, kid." Cid shoved his right hand into his pocket. Tifa first thought he was simply putting his lighter away, but it became quite obvious that he was taking something out instead. Cid held out his hand to her. "I thought you might want it back."
Tifa looked at his outstretched arm and his slightly curled fingers and the object that lay in his calloused palm (clearly the palm of someone who both loved to tinker with and pilot machines). Cloud Strife's face stared back at her and she wondered in that moment how she could ever have forgotten - it haunted her dreams well enough. "Thanks, Cid," she whispered, although she made no attempt to take the picture.
Cid sniffed again. "What's wrong?"
Tifa watched his gruff face and those crystal blue eyes of his, then took the picture of her ghost. "Nothing," she muttered. "I didn't think you would still have it."
Cid pattered her shoulder, then bent down to scoop up his spear. "No problem." After a puff on his cigarette, Cid was marching down the staircase with one hand back in his pocket and the other shouldering his weapon. She heard the clicking of the ShinRa guard's semi-automatic beneath his blue jacket, slowly fading as he left.
Tifa awkwardly shifted to her right foot. Cloud's blue eyes peered up at her from her hand, and she knew at that moment that she was no longer sure of the face looking back at her. It was as if her very thoughts of him had been contaminated somehow. She shivered. The picture felt heavy in her hands, much too heavy for the light glossy paper the face was printed on. With one last glance towards ShinRa's looming tower, one last thought of what could possibly be, Tifa turned her hand to the side and let the photo fall.
The picture fell lightly on the water's surface, floated there for a moment more, then slowly sunk to the bottom of the rain-soaked roof.
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