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It was raining when they left; the way they walked in quiet procession would make one believe that the rain should fall through them rather than on them. Still, the rain did not matter, for other more pressing thoughts were on their minds. Barret led the way, his head every now and then craning to different angles. Tifa guessed he was checking for more Turks. No, not checking. Searching. It was obvious that Barret was in the mood for a fight, with all that had been going on. It would be good for him if he could vent some bottled-up anger on an unsuspecting Turk or two. Tifa probably would have liked a Turk as a punching bag at the moment.
Tifa gave a passing glance towards Wedge and Cid ahead of her, who seemed to be deep in some conversation, shallow and lighthearted no doubt. She smiled slightly when Wedge's chubby face lit up with a grin. At least someone was happy. But then again, Wedge was always happy. It was all a front, of course, for who could truly be happy in this place? Whatever magic Wedge could weave to make himself content, Tifa wished he would share some with her. Lately, everything in this world seemed dark to her.
Vincent walked besides her silently, his eyes watching everything around him; every person's movement; every indiscernible reflection in a store's dusty window; every little and insignificant shadow that swept its way across the ground; insignificant to her perhaps, but to Vincent it seemed of the utmost importance. She tilted her head to the side and looked at him. Of course he knew she was watching him, but he wouldn't spare a glance towards her anymore. It was as if her bounty hunter was ignoring her. In fact, the only time Vincent had paid any attention to her since they had left the inn was when he so diligently placed his cloak over her small frame to protect her from the rain. Then her bounty hunter turned around and walked on, without so much as a word or a blink of those blood colored eyes. That had been twenty minutes ago.
Tifa wondered what he was thinking.
The shafts of light that wandered in from the various silts in the pipe-covered sky almost made the ugly world beneath seem beautiful. The rain was so steadily falling yet the sun shown bright, making each rain drop shimmer from the pipes and drip their way down below. Like the sun is bleeding, Tifa mused, and held out her hands in order to catch the drops of golden blood. She smiled when she was victorious in her childish game and craned her head upward to watch more water fall downward. With everything being showered in gold, she felt her heart lighten somewhat. Tifa made sure that wherever she walked would be where the light was filtering down from above, and when she stepped under that light, she sparkled as well. It seemed ridiculous to do such a thing, but at that moment Tifa really didn't care who saw her do it. She spun on her heels and stretched out her arms like wings, beads of water flying off strands of loose hair. Vincent's red cloak wrapped around her long legs as she danced in the light.
Then she turned around suddenly and he was standing there, his arms crossed, his wet shirt sticking to him like another layer of skin. And much to Tifa's surprise, he was smiling at her. It was one of his slight, all-knowing smiles again, which made his eyes look strange and almost gentle, rather than that icy aloofness that was usually there. It was one of those smiles that she would never have seen if not for the lack of his cloak. Vincent didn't walk beneath the light, however; he stood a few inches from its golden path and his smile faded slowly from wet lips. His skin was glistening golden. Even still, he made sure that he wasn't directly under the fiery streams of light. It was almost like he was hiding from it.
Tifa blushed slightly, pursed her lips together and groaned inwardly. Why did he have to watch her like that sometimes? Why did he have to watch everything like that sometimes? She shyly tucked her hair behind her ears.
Why do you have to be so beautiful sometimes?
Tifa moved towards him and closed the small gap that had been in-between the two. Vincent didn't move back a step or flinch away like she suspected he would have done. It caught her off guard, too. She suddenly wished that he had stepped back at that moment, because she so quickly became frozen and her legs numbed and turned to stone. Tifa was still showered in that golden glow and only a thin, invisible layer of neutral air floated between her light and his shadow. She didn't move into his darkness, though, it was Vincent who walked partly into her light. He grabbed both of her arms, as if she was his anchor lest the light devoured him in rejection. Hesitantly, Vincent bent his head down and Tifa automatically let her face tilt up in acceptance.
His nose brushed against hers, and she could feel the warmth of his lips, only a heartbeat away from her own. Tifa didn't notice at first when his eyes widened somewhat and his grip on her became uncomfortably tight all of a sudden; as it happened she could only breathe in sharply when she realized why. Reflecting in Vincent's eyes were the unmistakable and imposing figures of two Turks.
And they were standing right behind her.
*
It was all a blur. Tifa didn't know what was happening, though she was well aware of the fact that she was flying. Or something close to it. Vincent's hands slipped around her waist quickly, spun her around and pushed her away in almost one fluent motion. Tifa found herself stumbling backwards against her own will, against every fiber of her being, which screamed at her to snap back to reality. More stinging drops of rainwater dripped into her eyes, but she could still make out Vincent holding one of his guns to the head of the hairless Turk and the other one to the man she recognized now as Reno. Reno smiled as he held a similar looking weapon against Vincent's forehead and the hairless Turk remained expressionless with his gun pressed forcefully to Vincent's chest.
"Funny little predicament we have here." Reno sneered, tightening his grip on his gun. "Two against one. Better drop your weapons."
Vincent's eyes narrowed and he swiftly moved the barrel of his gun from Reno's temple to his mouth, shoving it passed his teeth once he made the foolish mistake of speaking. "Shouldn't have opened your mouth."
Reno's eyebrows rose up in surprise, but his wayward smile never left his lips.
The hairless Turk grunted and his dark sunglasses slid slowly down the bridge of his nose, revealing a set of sobering, dark eyes. "Lower your gun, Reno." His voice was just as deep and profound as his eyes, and it nearly startled Vincent.
Reno visibly disliked the other Turk's command, but he obeyed, lowering his gun and backing away with that annoying, mischievous grin spreading from ear to ear across his face. Vincent didn't bother giving a second glance to Reno; after all, it was a little too obvious that the Turk didn't know how to use a gun half as well as he knew how to wield a sword.
"We're not going to underestimate you again."
Again? Vincent cocked a brow at that, but his guns still stayed poised the way they had been: one still pointed at Reno, the other in-between the hairless Turk's dark brows.
There was a tense, almost unbearable pause, which was shattered by Reno when he breathed in loudly, drawing Vincent's attention back to him.
"You didn't actually think we were gonna leave and not come back, did you?" Reno still held his hands up - one loosely holding onto his gun - in feigned surrender.
Vincent's interest was suddenly renewed, though his expression remained as apathetic as before. "Is this Strife boy that important?"
Reno snorted and let out a short, high-pitched laugh. "Hell, no. Well, not to me, anyway. Ever since we've met you... Well, let's just say that you've captured our boss' interest."
"That's enough, Reno." The hairless Turk used his left hand to push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose, hiding his dark eyes once more. Much like Vincent, he never once moved his gun, nor took his eyes off of the man on the opposite end of it.
He's trained well. Vincent nearly smiled with that thought. The typical Turk. "I suppose you're going to give me a choice."
"Come with us on your own accord, or battle your way through." Reno finally lowered his hands and holstered his gun. "Either way, you're gonna end up with old friends."
Old friends? Vincent's eyes scanned the hairless Turk before him. There were no signs in his face that gave away what he thought, not even a slight twitch of his eye. Vincent glanced over at Reno - more so to the person creeping up behind Reno - and smiled slightly. "You're not as well trained as your friend here, Reno."
Reno's grin finally faltered. "What?"
"Not very perceptive, either."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Just as I thought.
The other Turk's eyes finally widened from behind his dark sunglasses. Vincent had moved almost impossibly fast those moments ago... but wasn't there someone else with him? He had seen a blur of red, but as the Turk had noticed before, Vincent wore a cloak. He simply thought that the bounty hunter had taken it off. There... was another! The Turk's eyes darted to his comrade. "Reno!"
Reno turned around in time to see the sole of Tifa's boot.
"Shit-!" Reno was quickly separated from his sunglasses, which had been balanced on the top his head, as he fell back into Vincent, who swiftly thrust him into the other Turk. His gun fell from out its holster and Reno fumbled on the ground for it, cursing when he couldn't find his weapon or his sunglasses. "Damn... Rude?"
Rude pushed Reno off of him, stood up, and immediately began firing his gun. It took Vincent a moment to realize that he wasn't aiming to kill, he was simply firing at spots that would disable an ordinary human. But Vincent was far from ordinary and he easily dodged Rude's firing. The Turk shook his head, clearing it from the slight daze he had received courtesy of Reno's body, and fired again.
This time his aim was much better.
Vincent winced when the bullet grazed his right arm. They wanted him alive. For what? Vincent dodged another shot and gladly returned fire. Rude moved aside quickly, looked around for something to hide behind for protection, and ran towards the side of a building.
"Reno! Move it!" Rude ducked behind the wall as one of Vincent's bullets imbedded itself into the brick. Reno, who had successfully found his gun, threw his arms over his head and ran towards Rude, dodging the bullets along the way.
Vincent reloaded one of his guns and ran with Tifa towards another building. Not this damn game again... He ignored the throbbing pain in his arm and glanced back to Tifa. The Turks didn't know Vincent had been with Avalanche before they had found them yesterday. So why were they so interested in him now?
Hojo.
Vincent felt his teeth clench together with that thought. No. Not again. Never again. He jumped out from behind his shelter and emptied both of his guns on the side of the building where Rude and Reno were crouching. He heard Reno curse aloud again, so Vincent could only conclude that Reno had unconsciously stuck out certain body parts where they shouldn't have been. Vincent couldn't suppress the slight grin that touched his lips when he heard the Turk's cry. That was one way to wipe that mischievous little smirk from off his face. Vincent moved back behind his own shelter and quickly searched the area around him. There had to be more Turks here; it couldn't possibly be just the two of them. That would not only be a brash idea, but a stupid one as well. Unless the others were already here... Vincent groaned. Cid. He and the rest of Avalanche must have met with some blue-suited distractions by now.
Divide and conquer.
Damn.
"Vincent." Tifa's voice brought him back to their reality. "I could go around the back if you distract them - Vincent?"
Her bounty hunter closed his eyes for a moment, as if contemplating Tifa's idea. She must have figured out by now that Cid, Barret and Wedge had most likely met with more Turks and that their aid wouldn't come any time soon. Her idea was logical. Of course there always was that second option in case Vincent couldn't distract them long enough and Tifa was caught... He shook his head. That was most certainly not an option.
Finally, Vincent reloaded his second gun and handed it to Tifa. She looked to protest the weapon, but Vincent firmly placed the gun in her hand and wrapped her slender fingers around its cold surface. He wasn't asking her. Inwardly, Tifa shivered. She hated the feeling that guns had. Vincent returned his attention to Rude and Reno, never once looking back to Tifa.
There were many little twist and turns in the City of Ghosts, and much to the Turks' disadvantage, Tifa knew them by heart. Midgar's underworld may not have been the best place to spend her teenage years, but there was nothing better for a training ground. Tifa quickly slipped into the shadows of the building and gave one last glance to Vincent. He was crouching against the building's wall, firing every time one of the Turks moved so much as an inch. That was one hell of a way of keeping their attention. She half-jogged, half-ran along the side, which wrapped around to the main street. Vincent's ammunition wouldn't last forever. And neither would the Turks' ignorance; they were bound to figure out that Vincent was merely a distraction. So once she was sure that Rude and Reno had ducked behind their shelter and she was well out of their line of vision, Tifa darted across the street, nearly jumping into the dark embrace of the alleyway's shadows. Taking a deep breath, and tucking her borrowed gun behind her belt, she wove her way around to an alleyway that she knew would lead to where the two Turks were hiding.
Simple enough. Though that nagging little voice in the back of Tifa's mind was telling her that nothing could possibly be so easy. She quickly looked behind her and when her eyes could not penetrate the dark shadows, she allowed her ears to do the work. Nothing. Turning back around, she could hear the faint clicking of Vincent's empty gun, though not a word of frustration left his lips. Tifa pressed her back against the wall and slid slowly along until she could see Rude. She suddenly remembered the heavy lump of the weapon secured by her belt. Tifa wanted the satisfaction of beating the Turks with her own two hands rather than use a gun, but with the two Turks holding long-ranged weapons, she knew she was better off using one as well. She watched as Rude ducked back to avoid Vincent's firing - by now her bounty hunter had the chance to reload his remaining gun - and she decided now was the best time to attack.
Tifa stepped forward, then quickly froze when she realized that it was Rude she saw ahead of her. Only Rude. Where was Reno? She quickly reached behind her for her gun, but her fingers brushed against nothing save for her belt. Damnit, Tifa! How could you be so- She heard a gun click and a sharp laugh.
Reno held his own gun towards Tifa, while he loosely held hers in his other hand, swaying the glistening object back and forth. "Hell, maybe if ya would've moved faster you would have gotten us."
Tifa balled her hands into fists and swiftly pivoted on her heel, once again smashing her foot successfully into Reno's jaw, and sending a spray of golden raindrops into the air. Through the midst of Reno's cursing and stomping the ground, she reached for one of the guns he had dropped. But Reno recovered quickly, unsheathing his sword and imbedding the sharp blade into the ground right before Tifa's fingers. She instantly drew her hand back, jumped to the right of Reno, and kicked out her leg. Reno, however, caught her foot and twisted it the other way, throwing Tifa into the side of the alleyway's wall. Smiling brashly, the red-haired Turk pressed the tip of his blade to her throat. Small beads of gold slid along his sword's thin blade and pooled where it was pushed firmly to her neck. Tifa didn't know whether it was her blood or the rainwater that glided down her skin.
"I think your bounty hunter would come with us quietly if we have you to trade." Reno's uncomfortably hot breath brushed across her face and when he leaned closer to her, his sword's blade cut into her skin.
Tifa couldn't turn her head to see at that moment, but from the exchange of gunfire going on, she was most certain that neither of them had attracted the attention of the other Turk. Good. Tifa smiled suddenly, which made Reno's eyebrows rise slightly. "You're an idiot." The blade was pressed so forcefully to her throat, but she still managed to say it loud enough for him to hear.
Reno smiled. "And why would you say that?"
Tifa, with as much strength as she could muster, thrust her foot up between Reno's legs.
The gunfire on the Turks' side stopped when Reno's cry cut through the heavy air like the blade's edge of his sword. Much as Tifa expected, Reno crumbled to the ground with a feeble yelp. Quickly, Tifa took her gun and Reno's sword and went running back the way she came. Reno's cry was bound to attract Rude's attention now, and she was an easy target in this alleyway, with nothing to hide behind.
Tifa anticipated correctly. Rude ignored Vincent's firing now and instead began to shoot down the alleyway. Due to the shadows, it was hard for Rude to see who exactly he was firing at, but that certainly didn't mean he couldn't hit them.
"Reno!" Rude's thick voice echoed down the alleyway, a twinge of concern edging in it when he didn't receive an answer. "Damnit..." Rude mumbled, running down the alley. He nearly fell over Reno, who was tucked into a ball on the ground, cursing softly. "Reno?" Rude bent down halfway and firmly placed a hand on his comrade's shoulder. "Were you hit?"
"In a manner of speaking..." his friend said between clenched teeth. Of course, Reno didn't mean by a bullet.
Rude didn't bother answering. Once he knew that Reno would survive, he was up again and sprinting down the alley. His eyes picked through the shadows, just in case whoever it was, was waiting in the dark's opaque shelter to surprise attack him. Once he was satisfied that he was indeed the only one in the alleyway, he turned back around.
Tifa emerged from the alley with a gasp of breath and a glance behind her to see if anyone was following. When she turned back around she was surprised to see Vincent, who had ran out from his hiding place, and was only a few feet before her now, his gun aimed to her right. Tifa suddenly realized that she had just made a terrible mistake. She made it halfway across the street by the time she saw Rude, who was down the street from her, just as many feet away as Vincent was, crouched behind a parked car and aiming his gun towards her. With a silent curse, Tifa turned around, threw the sword towards Rude with remarkable accuracy, and went running back to the alleyway. She knew Rude would have tried to come after her, she just didn't think he would have foolishly chanced Vincent by going the other way to cut her off.
Tifa heard Rude grunt in surprise, meaning that the sword must have hit him somewhere, then the fire of two guns simultaneously. One she recognized by now as Vincent's, the other was obviously Rude's. But who was the Turk firing at? Her unspoken question was answered when she felt as if her right leg had just exploded beneath her, and she was no longer able to support herself; she stumbled forward and hit the pavement. Luckily, though, she was able to cushion the fall with her left hand, while still holding onto Vincent's gun with her right. With a silent gasp, Tifa forced herself to roll over on her back and sit upright slightly, holding her gun out and aimed down the street where she had last seen Rude.
But Rude was no longer there, just his blood and Reno's sword. Tifa sat up more, bit her lip to muffle a cry, and looked around. Rude had abandoned both his shelter and his gun for his fists, and managed to successfully force Vincent to do the same. The hairless Turk was punching, and at times kicking, Vincent, who was parrying his attacks with the same fluent ease. Vincent jumped back quickly and Rude's fist did nothing more but hit the falling raindrops. It occurred to Tifa at that moment that it was still raining, if not more steadily than before. From this angle Tifa could not shoot Rude, though if even she could, she knew she could never hit him at the surprising speed he was going. Even with a sword wound in his side, the Turk refused to slow down, it seemed. Still, regardless of their skills, neither Rude nor Vincent were doing much damage to each other.
Rude suddenly backed away, cursed at what he was going to do next, and swiftly turned around towards where Tifa was sitting, retrieving his gun from its holster. He did not wish to shoot a woman at any time, but Rude's mission was a simple one: Whoever was in his way of Valentine was to be eliminated. And no matter his disapproval, he always obeyed each order. Just like a good Turk would do. Rude grimaced when Tifa pointed her gun back at him; she wasn't going to give in that easily.
"Damn," Rude mumbled to himself. Then, louder, "put your gun down. You know I have a better chance of hitting you then you have of hitting me."
As true as that was, Tifa refused to drop her gun.
Rude's dark eyebrows knitted together. It wasn't going to be a good day for him. He opened his mouth again, as if he wanted to try to convince her that his way was the better one, but the sound of Vincent's gun dropping made both of them jump slightly and look towards him.
Much to their surprise, Vincent was on his knees with his hands clutching his head.
Tifa's eyes widened. Her conversation with Cid the night before suddenly came back into her mind. Vincent...
Rude took Tifa's momentary distraction to his advantage and ran up to her, kicking the gun from out her hand. The metal object hit the building's wall, bounced off it with a loud crack, and finally skidded to a stop in the middle of the street. With a slight sigh, Rude pressed his gun lightly to her forehead. His sunglasses reflected Tifa's defiant, angry face. "As I was saying-"
"Tifa!"
Once Rude looked up at the new voice, Tifa kicked her left foot upward, and cried out when her right leg flared in pain. Rude, though, successfully dodged Tifa's attack and ran into the alley when bullets and more shouts came his way.
"Tifa!" Barret came up besides the girl, easily scooped her up in his arms, and ran towards Vincent. Cid and Wedge, followed by three Turks, were close behind.
"Bastards got us when we turned the friggin' corner," Cid gasped out when he finally reached Vincent. "We got a couple, but more came outta nowhere. Vin?" Cid coughed and leaned on his metal pole. "Looks like they got us good this time, Vin."
Barret carried Tifa to the shadows of the building across the street, where Vincent had once been, and laid her down carefully. He brushed a few strands of hair away from her face to reveal two brown eyes peering up at him. "You okay, Tifa?" She nodded, then inhaled sharply when another shot of pain crawled up her leg. Barret turned nearly savagely on Wedge. "Stay with her, got that?" When Wedge nodded feebly, Barret left the alleyway to where Cid and Vincent were.
Cid had managed to get Vincent to move behind a parked car, but Vincent shrugged him off soon afterwards. He undid the red band around his head and handed it and the small knife from his boot to Cid. "Get the bullet out of Tifa's leg-" Vincent's fingers quickly withdrew from Cid's hand and went back to digging into his head. After a moment, he regained his composure. "Now would be a good time to get them out of here, Cid."
The ex-pilot knew what that meant. He wanted to ask if Vincent was certain, or at least try to convince the man that leaving together would be a much better option, but there was no arguing with the hard rock of a head sitting on Vincent's shoulders. Besides, uncontrollable demons were not a good thing to have around a wounded group. Cid grudgingly obeyed and, keeping his head low to shield against the three new Turks' gunfire, motioned for Barret to follow him.
Once Cid and Barret were back in the alley, Wedge helped Tifa to stand. He pulled her arm over his shoulder and placed his hand around her waist. Tifa wobbled a bit, but found her footing fast, leaning on Wedge for support. Cid crouched in front of Tifa and gently held her twitching leg still with one hand and the knife before her open wound with the other. She winced, but refused to let out even the faintest of cries. He glanced up at her with a slight awkward look, which at any other time would have been amusing. Tifa nodded her head. She was ready. It took Cid a moment, and a long inhale of the wet air around him, before he dug out the bullet in Tifa's leg. And as much as Tifa tried, she could not stop herself from crying out.
That, of course, made Barret angry. "Do you even know what you're doin'?!" The big man took a step forward.
"Shut the hell up! I'm tryin' to concentrate here..." Cid licked his upper lip, immediately tasted blood, and spat it out. "Damn... Almost got it." With one last yelp from Tifa, Cid popped out the small, metal bullet, which was cleaned by the puddles of rainwater as it rolled away. Cid tied Vincent's red band around her leg and stood up with a grunt. "It'll have to do 'til we can clean it better."
"Thanks..." Tifa said weakly and tightened her grip on Wedge's shirt.
Cid nodded and wiped his hands on his pants. "Just don't walk on it." With a glance back towards Vincent's direction, the ex-pilot quickly turned the other way, down the alleyway. "We don't have a lotta time-"
"Wait a damn minute!" Barret jabbed a finger at Wedge, stopping him from moving, and then spun around to Cid. "You're just gonna leave him there?"
"It's not what ya think!" Cid retorted, shouldering his metal pole and matching stares with Barret's blazing eyes.
"I don't leave men behind, got that?"
"Don't go all heroic on me now, Barret." Cid winced when his pole brushed against an open wound on his shoulder, and then promptly switched it to his other side. "He knows what he's doin'. And... it's best that we don't get in his way right now."
Barret ran his hand over his closely cropped hair, causing small droplets of rainwater to roll down the back of his neck, and closed his eyes. "What the hell are you talkin' 'bout?"
Cid sighed in frustration. Barret knew what he meant, so why the hell was he asking him? Did he want to hear it from Cid's mouth first? Why did that man have to be so impossibly hardheaded at times? Cid shook his head and started walking away. "I don't have time for this shit right now..."
"Hell, I'm leavin' now 'cause Tifa needs to, not 'cause you said so." Barret brushed more of Tifa's long, wet hair away from her face and let his hand linger there. "You okay?" His usual hard face softened.
Tifa poked her head up from Wedge's shoulder and her voice was amazingly clear, "Why are we leaving him behind?" She looked back towards Vincent, who was now standing, and much to her horror, his left hand was no longer his usual metal claw. From his elbow down was the smooth, gray skin of something nearly demon-like and from those dark fingers grew long, yellowish talons. Tifa gaped. "What...?"
"Come on!" Cid, who had ran half-way down the alley, turned around and jogged back up. "Move it!"
Wedge tore his gaze away from Vincent's strange mutation and obeyed Cid. Or at least tried to obey, for Tifa, despite her injured leg, forcefully pulled on Wedge to stay still.
"Shit, shit, shit..." Cid groaned. "Don't you people get it? We can't be here right now!" When no one bothered to move, or even regard Cid in any way, he leaned his forehead against the alley's wall in defeat. "Why doesn't anyone listen to me?"
If it wasn't for the rain splashing against Tifa's face, she probably would have thought this one of her nightmares. I'm unconscious... I have to be unconscious... Tifa could hear the three Turks still firing - Rude and Reno were nowhere to be seen - could see the car shielding Vincent wobble and twitch from the bullets that were literally tearing it to pieces. With a loud thump and a groan, Vincent fell forward and onto the car. Tifa felt herself jerk forward. She wanted to reach him, but Wedge refused to let go of her. If it wasn't for that damn injured foot of hers... When Vincent cried aloud, Tifa instinctively pulled herself away from her friend's arm.
Wedge tried to tighten his hold on her, but the rain forced him to slip away. "Tifa!" Wedge reached out with his other hand, but all he grabbed were the droplets of falling rain.
With a small grunt, Tifa fell onto the puddles on the ground. For a moment she couldn't hear their concerned shouts, or the Turks' guns; now only was the wind's calm blowing and the sun's golden blood. She stared at the wall of the alleyway and the rain that dripped down each little crevice in those imperfect bricks. Yes, Cid had said Vincent could turn into a monster. Yes, he told her what exactly she was to expect, but seeing it was a completely different thing than simply hearing the words. No, it was a nightmare. Some distant part of her heard Barret curse softly. Then there was a much more hideous sound, and for a moment she couldn't tell where it was coming from. She could feel Barret's presence near her and his hand pressed on her back, as if willing her not to look at the sight before her. Tifa, of course, didn't listen. She gritted her teeth and forced herself onto her stomach, then, much to the protest of some small part of her mind, she finally looked up.
It was a demon. That was the only word Tifa could possibly find to describe the thing. It was no longer on the pavement, behind the protection of the parked car. It had sunk its claws into the hood of the car and flipped it out of its way like a tin can. The car fell onto its roof and screeched to a stop a few feet away, sending a small wave of water into the air. The creature snarled, lifted its lips into what Tifa could only guess was a sneer, and flapped both of its large, bat-like wings.
Wings.
It was Vincent. That thing was Vincent!
Cid saw the expression on Tifa's face and felt his heart drop to his feet. "Damnit, why didn't you listen?" He whispered softly. Cid glanced at Wedge, who gaped at the creature like it was something out of the darkest parts of his nightmares. It was. That would be the best way to describe it. Cid didn't bother to look at Barret. Hell, if Tifa and Wedge are horrified beyond belief, I think I know what Barret thinks...
With Barret's help and with her hand placed firmly on the wall of the building, Tifa stood up. The flaring pain in her leg was now a gentle throbbing. Perhaps the rainwater had numbed it, or maybe she could no longer feel the pain with all of her attention being drawn to the creature before her. Tifa's mouth twitched, but no words passed her lips.
The demon, its talons glistening gold under the light, lunged forward to attack the three Turks. One Turk, who looked much too young to be working the field, dropped his gun and fell to his knees. The other two, however, refused to be taken in by fear and kept their steady gunfire. A few bullets pierced the demon's thick, gray skin, but seemed to do very little damage. It didn't even flinch, barely even acknowledged the small, metal bullets that rained around it like the drops of golden water from above. The creature lashed out with its right hand, grabbed one of the Turks' guns, crunched it into a small lump, and tossed it away with ease. Then, before the Turk had the chance to jump back and out of its way, the demon snatched him in its claws and threw the limp body to the side. The other Turk tried to run, but it was a vain effort.
Tifa turned her head away. She didn't want to see what it was going to do to the remaining two Turks. Even when the men's cries felt like they would shatter her ears, she could do nothing more than lift her hands to her ears to at least try to block out some the of the terrible sounds.
Barret felt Tifa shudder next to him and his hold on her tightened slightly. "What... what the hell is that?"
"Say hello to Chaos, kids." Cid said flatly.
Chaos tossed the last of the Turks, whose head was twisted perpendicular to his body, through the glass display case of a store. He turned around, and if he wasn't wearing Vincent's pants and whatever was left of his shirt, he never would have been recognizable. His growls became soft purrs and he crouched on the ground, his wings nearly enveloping him completely.
"What's happening now?" Tifa managed to ask, barely looking over towards Cid.
He never met her gaze. He didn't want to. "I think... It's over." Cid walked passed the three members of Avalanche towards Chaos, but Tifa's arm stopped him. When he glanced back to her, she was taking off Vincent's red cloak and handing it to him. Cid nodded his thanks and half-jogged towards Vincent.
Chaos was no more and if they hadn't been watching, it could be very well assumed that Vincent simply killed the demon and now stood there in his place. Changing back was never as long and as painful as transforming - or, rather, mutating, for it seemed the better word. It didn't sound nearly as nice as transforming did. Vincent groaned softly when Cid placed his cloak as gently as possible around him.
He looked up at Cid weakly. "After all this time, you think I would be used to this."
Cid tried to offer him a reassuring smile and crouched down besides him. "It didn't last nearly as long as the last time. Hell, maybe next time-" He stopped short when he noticed Vincent's eyes weren't watching him anymore. Those blood-red orbs were looking passed him. Cid winced once he realized what Vincent was looking at so intensely and with so much unease. "I'm sorry, Vin. I couldn't get 'em to leave."
Vincent looked up at Tifa, who was now being showered in more of the shifting light of the sun. The golden glow dispelled the shadows and gloom of the alleyway as Tifa stared back at him with wide, brown eyes. It had stopped raining, but a few lingering raindrops fell down from the pipes. Vincent felt himself shudder. He could endure the expressions on Wedge's and Barret's faces, but hers...
The look within her eyes was nothing short of horror.
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