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Tick. Tick. Tick.
Vincent could see only the darkness of his own eyelids. How long he had been asleep seemed impossible to fathom; it felt years since he had last seen the sun. There had been light once before, but whether it had been from the sky or from a lamp, he could not say. He kept his eyes closed for a second more, relishing in the fact that he could dance between dreams and reality for a moment longer.
Tick... Tick...
He strained to hear what was going on within the room around him, but all that answered his mute queries were the familiar, distant ticks of some clock. The vague thought of what the time was came as a fleeting notion to his mind, then was quickly cast aside when he finally opened his eyes. Vincent nearly smiled when the bleak face of darkness watched him back. Darkness followed him everywhere, it seemed. Shifting his arms behind him, Vincent managed to pull himself upward to a sitting position, and luckily the headrest was there for him to lean upon.
His arms felt like lead. And like so many times before, everything hurt terribly.
Vincent lifted up both of his hands (almost like he was unconsciously searching for blood), as close to his face as he could manage in the scarcity of light. Though his eyes worked well in the darkness, another little effect of his curse, the night before had left him weakened. Vincent would have imagined some of his strength to have returned by now; after all, he had been sleeping for quite some time. Sleep hadn't come to him in so long and he searched the darkest parts of his mind for the dream he was almost certain he had had. But he found nothing. For the first time in what seemed like years, Vincent had slept without a nightmare. He nearly sighed in relief.
Is this how it is like to wake from blissful nothingness?
Someone shifted next to him and Vincent immediately snapped his head to his left, half-expecting another Turk or an unseen monster from the darkest of his nightmares. He didn't know what to think when he saw Tifa there, sleeping peacefully. Vincent shook his head slightly, his uneven hair going every which way. What had happened? The only things he could come up with were blue-suited men and monsters. The latter was so ridiculous that he nearly laughed aloud, but he stopped himself; no need to wake Tifa when she was sleeping so soundly. He had fought the Turks the day before... At least he thought it was the day before. He had pushed Cid out of the way of - of something.
Vincent closed his eyes once more. His memories would come flooding back, as they always did, so he didn't spend anymore time on the matter. The idea of being ignorant of the day before seemed pleasant enough.
Tick... Tick... Tick...
Tifa shifted in her sleep and whispered something. It took Vincent a moment to realize that it was a name she was mumbling so fondly; he figured it to be Cloud Strife’s. He smiled bitterly, though it barely registered upon his face, and watched her for a time, as if he was waiting for her to say that name again into the nothingness of the shadows. Tifa's hand clutched the bed sheets, then lay still. But nothing else.
Vincent moved a piece of her hair carefully aside, and she did not recoil, as he was expecting her to do. Despite the darkness and the shadows that danced their way across her face, Tifa still looked beautiful. But the beauty was soon disturbed by a twist of pain (whether emotional or physical, he could not tell). Vincent's brow furrowed when he realized that she was dreaming and the dream was notably unpleasant.
She flinched when he placed his hand firmly upon her shoulder. "Tifa...?"
Had he given Tifa his bad dreams? The very thought sounded ludicrous, but such strange things could not be so easily dismissed. Vincent wrapped his arms around Tifa again and held her close to him, as if that would vanquish her nightmares and somehow give them the purity of light.
But how can something so far from the light cleanse the dark?
Tifa's eyes did not open, however she relaxed suddenly and fell back to peaceful slumber. She stirred only once more when she rested her head against his neck, and something cold and wet dripped onto his chest. Rolling down, her tear left a clear line across his skin, noticeable even in this darkness.
"Vincent..."
*
Tifa looked around the room. Hadn't it been just a moment ago that she was somewhere else, somewhere safe and warm? All thoughts of warmth and safety were nothing here, and it felt, as she walked forward into the nothingness around her, that such things had never existed in this place to begin with. The darkness stretched on forever in every direction and the cold touch of shadows wrapped themselves around her legs, beckoning her to come to unknown places.
It was a dream.
She had had many before like this; strange little thoughts and fears mingled together in her unconscious mind, distorting and twisting reality. And with her every step over the bottomless abyss, she could hear the sharp snapping of something finally twisted to its limit. Reality, as she knew it, finally broke. And Tifa looked down at the darkness beneath her feet. Below her was nothing, as was the same above her and around her. Why was she not falling then? What unseen things did she walk upon? Surely gravity did not exist in a place where the sane and the irrational came so awkwardly together. With darkness everywhere, Tifa couldn't help but feel weighed down by it, consumed by it. She was alone. And with no one near her, she was left to be completely surrounded by all her fears and unguarded secrets.
Then there was light.
It came so suddenly and so fast that the rumble which followed was more than enough to knock her off her feet and onto the ground, if such a thing could even pass as the ground. Tifa didn't get the chance to cover her eyes, and now instead of the ugly face of darkness she was watching the beauty of light. It was warm and gentle and she outstretched her hands, wanting nothing more than to grab hold of this warmth and keep it for when she needed it most; those cold, dark nights when there was nothing but her own thoughts to haunt her.
Tick. Tick. Tick...
What was that? Tifa was certain that she had heard those faint sounds before, just not this clearly. The sounds were muffled, and perhaps she had mistaken them for her footsteps. Or maybe the sounds had been drowned out by the echoes, lost in all this gloom. When finally the light subsided, and darkness again took its place by the light's side, the nothingness around her was dispelled. And though the room was still dim, things she could not see before were now illuminated by the pale glow.
Clocks!
Around her everywhere, covering the walls and hanging so freely from the ceiling, were clocks. The idea would have been nearly comical if not for the ominous feeling this place held. Tifa walked further into the room, and with every moment and almost timed to her every step was the maddening ticks of some clock. As pointless as it was, Tifa covered her ears with her hands and walked on. The room didn't seem to end; there were walls on either side of her, a wall covered with clocks somewhere behind her - those annoying, maddening clocks. But in front of her, as it was below her, was nothing save for darkness.
Was she floating? She didn't feel so free as to be doing that. This felt more like a cage. But weren't all her dreams like that?
Tick. Tick...
It was a game, a perverse little game to see how long it would take to break her. Tifa's grip upon her own head tightened. Whatever it was that wanted her to break so easily would not get that satisfaction. She still had some strength left in her, however dwindling it might have been. There was once a time when she didn't need to search very far for her strength. Sadly, though, that time had long past. Someone had come into her life and seemingly tore away at her soul, weakening what was once so strong. And what hurt most was that he never knew the pain he had given her to bear, the damage he had caused.
Damn Cloud Strife.
But there was another, one who had appeared out of seemingly nowhere. He had stepped into the City of Ghosts from someplace Tifa could probably never begin to imagine, even in her most thoughtful of moods. Obviously he had his own demons to deal with, ones that could never truly be defeated. But he still went on, despite whatever it was that had made him the man he was today. Tifa couldn't help but wonder just what his demons were. Did they look like her own? Were they the cause of someone else? She had overheard Barret whisper ShinRa when Vincent spoke of his arm... Indirectly, ShinRa was a part of her problem as well. Vincent... Why did she care so much for someone she barely knew? Misplaced feelings, she assumed. But somehow he had given Tifa her strength back, had told her things that she did not want her to hear, shown her things she had feared most. He had forced her to confront her demons. He didn't know her, but he was helping her. Was it the money? Or was it because she reminded Vincent of himself?
Tick. Tick. Tick -
She slammed into something hard.
Staggering, Tifa gasped and instinctively her hands went to clutch her forehead. What the hell did she walk into? But when Tifa looked up, there was nothing but the shadows to the unknown...
And Cloud Strife.
Tifa didn't believe it at first, nearly had to rub her eyes, and her lips parted slightly, but no words came. Perhaps she had lost her voice, perhaps she had no voice in this damnable place. She had thought that for a brief moment she might have been spared from the sting of such pains, but the mix of emotions within her came back to mock her once more. Tifa reached out before her, wanting to feel his face, if only to prove against all reason that he was real. But all her fingers touched was the cold glass of the nearly invisible wall she had collided with.
It never seemed fair. In nearly every dream Cloud was waiting there, lingering some place she could not reach. Yet she could always see him; he was simply too far away. But this time was different, almost painfully so. She had gotten used to him being a good distance away, a simple blur from the corner of her eye, a vague image in the deepest parts of her memory. Now he was right before her, perhaps even closer to her than he had ever been in the real world. And part of her hated him for that. Even in her dreams he found a way to hurt her, and all the while he seemed oblivious of it.
Cloud. Cloud Strife.
She could not see him well in the shadows, but she could feel the smile that etched itself upon his lips. How could he smile? When did he smile? The gesture was anything but pleasant, and she would have even thought it nearly evil, if not for her heart which longed for it to be pure. Cloud... Tifa placed her hands so forcefully upon the glass that they nearly turned white, such a color standing out well in the darkness of the room. Cloud! But the man turned away, that smile still upon his face, forever ugly and beautiful.
"Cloud!"
Tifa slammed her body against the glass wall and cried out when it gave way, shattering around her, raining down like thousands of tiny daggers. But the ground was no longer there to break her fall. She fell and kept falling into the nothingness around her...
Until someone's arms stopped her.
Everything was red and something soft tickled her face. Vincent... It had to be. Who else wore that strange, scarlet cloak? Tifa buried her face in his chest and cried. Vincent - that strange, frightening bounty hunter of hers - was there to catch her. She squeezed him to make sure he was real this time and she would have stepped closer to him, tried to step closer to him, but it became obvious that there was no ground anymore.
Her feet were dangling over emptiness.
"Running after ghosts again?"
It took Tifa a moment to realize that it was Vincent who asked that question. She rested her chin upon his chest and watched him sullenly. Something black and feathery floated passed her face. "All I have left are ghosts, Vincent..." she whispered.
He smiled and shook his head slightly. His smile was nothing like Cloud's. There was something beautiful about all of that sadness there; it made him seem more real to her, more human. "Let your ghosts go, Tifa Lockheart." He bent his head down towards hers and Tifa felt something soft wrap around her and graze her arms. "Do you want to fall forever?"
His hold on her loosened, as if at any moment he would let her go. She tightened her grip upon Vincent and cried out, "I can't fly! I'll fall!"
His unmistakable laughter filled the dense air around them.
If Tifa wasn't panicking she would have glared at him and demanded to know what was so damn funny. Despite her obvious annoyance, he was still smiling gently down at her. She understood at that moment, and suddenly the ticking of clocks stopped, their fading echoes the only thing that lasted in the moments after.
Vincent wasn't letting her fall, he was letting her go free...
"Tifa?"
Everything darkened and blurred together. Vincent sounded too far away to be right before her.
"Tifa!"
That wasn't Vincent.
"Hey! Open the friggin' door!" Wasn't that Cid? It sure as hell sounded like the man.
With a start, Tifa forced her eyes open and she sat up. For a moment everything was as blurry as her dream had been. She closed her eyes once more and sighed, trying to shake away what little of her dreams were still there. They were getting longer every night, and just as hard to escape from, it seemed.
"Tifa? You awright?" Barret. It had to be him. They found her and Vincent, somehow.
Tifa searched the room with her hands outstretched into the nothingness. The silky dark of the shadows embraced everything, making it nearly impossible to see. Tifa cursed silently. She should have kept the light on... Her hands brushed against Vincent's arm and he flinched slightly. When she bumped into him for a second time he shot upright quickly, obviously surprised, and collided with Tifa. Vincent grabbed her suddenly and with such force that Tifa instinctively jerked back, but since their limbs were still intertwined with one another's they fell with a thud onto the inn's floor.
The door was forced open, courtesy of Barret, and the lights came on, blinding them for a moment.
They nearly looked like deer caught in the headlights' glare.
Cid grinned and crossed his arms before his chest, that metal pole still snugly in his right hand's grip. "Huh. And here we thought you guys were in some kinda trouble. Shit, Vin." The ex-pilot chuckled for emphasis and glanced at Barret, whose jaw seemed to touch the ground at that moment. Wedge simply gawked like an idiot. "You two should've locked the door."
Tifa felt her face redden, much like Wedge's, and when Vincent finally got up from off of her, she quickly stood. "It's not what you think!" She said it so fast that she nearly winced at her own tone. "I mean... We were - "
"We fell," Vincent simply said as he staggered to a stand behind her, leaning on one of the end tables for support.
"Damnit, Valentine." Cid strode up to his friend, promptly switched his pole to his left hand, and prodded Vincent's chest with his finger. He cringed when he noticed the blood, which stood out noticeably amongst the white bandages. Cid was no longer smiling. "Vin -"
"I'm fine, Cid."
Cid's forehead almost immediately furrowed and he opened his mouth, looking to protest his friend's words, but Barret shuffled over to Tifa and frowned at the two bounty hunters, interrupting Cid the instant his lips split apart to speak.
"I shoulda known better than to trust a ShinRa man," Barret spat. "And I'm a damn jackass for not seein' it earlier." The big man placed both of his hands upon Tifa, practically enveloping her slender shoulders, and looked her over one last time before he cast a rather unpleasant glare toward Vincent and Cid. "If anythin' woulda happened to her -"
"Who the hell are you callin' ShinRa man?" Cid automatically stepped in front of Vincent, unconsciously answering the big man's question. "You better think before you talk." With a rather distinct thud, Cid slammed the top of his pole against the palm of his right hand.
There he went again, picking fights he couldn't possibly win.
Barret growled and pulled away from Tifa, who had quickly went to grab his arm in some desperate attempt to hold him back, and came so close to Cid that his nose was but a few inches apart from the ex-pilot's. "I'm callin' that ghost behind you ShinRa man 'cause that's what he is!"
The smallest of smiles brushed Vincent Valentine's lips. ShinRa man. He hadn't heard that one in quite some time.
Something dark passed over Cid's face, and it wasn't just the shadow of the bigger man before him. Cid may have been ignorant at times, perhaps even a bit too pigheaded, but he certainly was no idiot. And he couldn't hide it. Somehow, Barret had figured out what so few people actually knew. Vincent, at one point or another, had been a Turk. He bowed his head, all thoughts of anger and rage now seemingly gone. "That... that was a lifetime ago."
Quite literally a lifetime ago.
"He was a what?" Tifa could barely keep from letting her jaw hang open. Vincent had been with ShinRa? Tifa scoffed and looked away from Cid and Barret. "You two are out of your minds." But it made sense. Vincent did move like a Turk and he most certainly had the mind of one. Tifa cast the most pathetic of looks towards Vincent. She wanted him to tell her otherwise, she wanted him to deny it, even if it was true. Cloud... and now Vincent? For someone who hated ShinRa, she sure had a way of falling for their men.
Tick... Tick...
Vincent glanced over at the clock. Five forty-three. Obviously it was morning, but with the darkness of the underground world it might as well have been nighttime. The awkwardness in the room was enough to make any other man crumble, but Vincent merely stood there, all eyes on him, a different emotion on each of their faces. Wedge shook his head, as if he was telling Vincent to simply say that Barret was overreacting again. The bounty hunter glanced toward Tifa, and her expression nearly made whatever was left of his heart sink.
But he didn't take his eyes off of her. "It's true."
Tifa twitched, but remained silent. Barret's frown deepened and he grabbed Tifa's hand forcefully, pulling her towards the door. That wasn't the answer he had wanted. If anything, Barret wanted to be proven wrong, for Tifa's sake. He shot an unreadable look towards Wedge and left the room, Tifa being pulled along after him and not bothering to break free from Barret's grasp. She could have if she wanted to, but she didn't.
After Wedge reluctantly followed them, Cid finally broke free of his silent daze, running after the three, then stopping halfway towards the door. "Shit! Vincent, they're -"
"Let them go."
Cid sputtered, then flailed his arms in the direction they had gone, for lack of words. "But... Damnit, Vincent! We're just gonna let 'em leave?"
The glow from the hallway only allowed some light to penetrate the shadows over Vincent's face, and his eyes nearly shimmered. Something strange in those orbs of scarlet made Cid fall silent once more. And for a long time afterwards, there was only that one, persistent sound in the room.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
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