A/N: Yes, I am back! Only now with Final Fantasy VII… I played through Dirge of Cerberus, I saw Advent Children, etc, and I fell in love with Vincent Valentine. I'm sorry if it's OOC, and really random. Here it is.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from FFVII; it all belongs to the folks from Square Enix…Though I'd claim Vincent for my own if I could…
Oh, God, help me! Please, someone….
Save me, oh please it hurts…
Stop her!
Vincent…You promised…
He shot bolt upright in his bed, sweat pouring down his face. He didn't scream. Never screamed. He never showed emotion, never manifested any of the recognizable signs.
It hurt, sometimes, to be stoic.
Since his awakening was silent, he didn't wake any of his companions.
Air. He needed air.
Most of his clothing was already on. He didn't usually take any of it off, for fear someone would see. He slipped his cloak on, tied his headband around his head, slid on his claw. His boots he left for when he was outside.
The cool night air calmed him, soothed him. It always had, even before…
He shuddered, the most emotion Vincent Valentine ever showed, and only when no one was around to see it.
Being now calm, he focused his thoughts on the dream he'd just had. He rarely slept, and hadn't dreamt for years. After Hojo…
He turned his thoughts back to the dream.
Vincent…The voice had been eerily familiar, even if none of the others had.
You promised…Promised who? Promised what?
Was it even worth pondering? Dreams weren't prophetic…
Were they?
That was the sad part of his life. He didn't know most of what he could do. The parts of his abilities he did know were more curse than gift.
The torture…
It didn't do to dwell on the past. That road led to insanity. The only reason he wasn't insane after his thirty-some-odd year interment in that coffin was because of the voices.
All silent now.
Two years since Chaos had left him…
Was it a relief?
"Vincent Valentine."
He turned, catching sight of Shelke, a girl he'd befriended two years ago.
"You should be asleep." His voice was low, gruff, deep. It hadn't always been.
"I heard you leave. Something troubles you."
He turned back to his contemplation of the stars. "A dream, nothing more."
"Yet it troubles you, still."
He almost sighed, but that would be showing emotion. It wouldn't do for him to ever show emotion. "No." A lie, but an easy one.
"I know you better than you think, Vincent Valentine. I harbored Dr. Crescent, for a time."
She was right. He knew it.
"Very well. I dreamed of screaming. Mostly unintelligible things. It was a laboratory. There were people, so many of them. All of them brutally mutilated."
"Like you were."
He didn't deign to respond. "The things being done to them were…unspeakable. In the midst of all this, I heard my name. It was quiet, but clear, unmistakable. 'Vincent, you promised.' I know that voice, but I don't know from where."
"So what is the problem?"
"I don't know if it is simply something my subconscious mind came up with, drawing on…certain of my memories…or something…else."
"Perhaps you should find out."
"There's nothing to do. Nothing familiar except that voice."
"Get some sleep, Vincent Valentine. It may shed some light on this."
"You first."
Without another word, she slipped back inside and found her bed. He stayed out a little longer, puzzling as was his wont, but he come up with nothing new.
When he went back to bed, he did not dream again.