NOTE FROM THE Author
Hey! Same thing again. I changed a few things though. added some stuff.
I do not own anybody in this fanfic, these characters are all belong to Squaresoft. The events in this fanfic are purely fictional, the setting is fictional and so on. I have not played Dirge of Cerberus, therefore I don't know a crap about Vincent, so I apologise now if I'm not right.
People might see OOC at times, but I decided to go with my own interpretations of the characters.
yadda, yadda.
enough with the introductions, please enjoy and please review.
END OF NOTE!
Vincent stood quietly by the window. He looked out over the town, darkness was creeping in over it, lights were being lit here and there. But still it was quiet. A peaceful and quiet illusion. The small and cramped room was dark, Vincent felt more at home in the darkness, hiding from the world and all that it meant.
The lights suddenly went on. Vincent flinched and hid his eyes, such a quick transition was usually painful for his light-sensitive eyes.
"Man, Vince! You almost gave me a heart-attack!" an upbeat, yet shocked voice said.
Vincent looked at the source of the voice. It was Tifa, she was standing with her arms crossed over her chest in a very casual pose, she looked both concerned and surprised at the same time, her face concealed it well, but it was still easy to notice.
Vincent didn't respond, he just turned back to the window, cape fluttering in its usual way.
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out eating with the rest?" she asked, taking a couple of steps closer to him, she always seemed to worry about Vincent. She had done ever since he joined them. She seemed to always take on the motherly role of the group and try to take care of everybody.
"I don't eat. Nor do I socialize. Eating out usually combines the both." Was his short, toneless reply, not wishing or caring to even try and start a conversation.
"Good point." She said, and slumped down on a bed, staring at Vincent's cape as it brushed the back of his legs from the slight wind from the ventilation.
"But if I recall correctly, you both eat and socialize. Why are you here then?" There wasn't even a hint of noticeable curiosity in his voice, asking mostly to be polite.
"I ate something quick at a stand, the rest of the group went to some fancy pub, I get a little tense around Cloud and Aerith, so I figured I'd come here and stare at the ceiling, all alone. Never expected to have company." She said with a bit of hope in her voice.
Vincent continued to stare out.
"So much for company." She added. No reaction from Vincent.
"Can you turn the light of? The reflection ruins the possibility to look out." He said, not even giving her a glance.
Tifa went up, and soon the comforting embrace of darkness engulfed them both. He heard and felt Tifa come up close beside him, he felt her warm body right next to him, she stood very close to him, a little to close for his taste, but he didn't bother to tell her.
"It's so pretty when you look down on it." She said.
"Yes." Was his short reply. Tifa seemed to become impatient with Vincent's coldness, he was always stopping conversations before they even had a chance to start. She looked at him, he looked at the window, she wanted to get to know him better, but it was almost impossible when he was acting like this.
"You want to take a walk?" she said, suddenly.
Vincent stared at her like she had just asked him the world's most vulgar question. He? Walking a chit-chat walk?
"You don't have to if you don't wanna. But I thought, you know, since it's just you and me, we could walk to that pretty hill above the village." She looked hopefully at him.
Vincent didn't even look at her. He supposed that the view of the village would be even better from the top of a hill, and it would probably even be darker. He didn't really have to talk to Tifa, she seemed to understand his need to avoid contact with people.
Without saying a word, Vincent turned away from the window and started walking.
Tifa shone up and ran after him.
The walk up the hill was pretty short, and they were there in less than half an hour. It was completely dark around them, the only light sources were the stars and the light from the village.
Tifa slumped down on a turf of grass and sighed. Vincent remained standing, staring down at the village, standing completely still, most people who would've observed him would've think he had passed out standing or died. He didn't move at all, not even to blink.
There was silence and darkness. Tifa sighed happily again, trying somehow to prove to Vincent that she was still there and wasn't going to leave.
"It's so pretty." She said.
Vincent heard her, but wasn't really listening, he continued to stare, somewhat hoping that Tifa would give up and stop to try and get him to talk.
"Looking down on everything, like this. Behind each of those lights is a home. A place where somebody feels secure and happy. Behind some of these lights, there might even be a family. There are so many people behind these lights, so many hopes, dreams, so much love." She said, sounding very poetic.
Vincent looked at Tifa, his arms crossed very sinisterly over his chest.
"What about those who have no home or family or dreams?" he asked, his eyes not leaving the village.
"Yes, one might wonder what those people do. I think that every living being has a way of fighting their own battles, everybody lives to serve a purpose, however irrelevant that purpose might be, it's something to cling onto and live for, you only have to figure out what that purpose is."
"So, if I find my purpose, I find a reason to live?" he went closer to Tifa, letting his cape stroke against her. Tifa chuckled.
"Yes, that might be it."
"What would my purpose be, then?" he actually sat down beside her, Tifa was surprised, it wasn't really like Vincent to be this close and willing to talk, she smiled inwards, her devious plan seemed to work.
Tifa looked down at the town and then at Vincent, but when he wasn't looking back at her, her eyes went back to the village.
"I think that's for you to discover by yourself." She said.
Vincent stared at her profile, then at the village.
"What if.. I spent so much time looking, that I've just given up? What if I really do have no purpose and reason to live?"
She turned her head, her hazel eyes met his crimson.
"Then I think it's about time you pick up that trace." She whispered at him with a comforting smile on her lips.
They both looked down at the lights. Tifa took up some grass and let the straws spread by the wind. She laid back and stared at the sky.
"Wow. Look at that." She pointed up. "I've never seen so many stars. We never saw the sky back in Midgar, and I haven't been able to look at them since we got out of there." Her mouth was left half-way open as she leant her head back, trying to somehow count all the stars, just trying to comprehend how many there were, she was completely dazzled by the sheer magnificence.
Vincent looked where her hand indicated. Indeed it was a beautiful sight. The entire sky was dotted with sparkling stars, even the full moon was up. The more Vincent looked, the more stars became visible, he stared for a long time, silently repeating all of the constellations as he saw them. A memory came flashing to his mind. When was the last time he looked at the stars like this? That was way back when he was on a mission in Nibelheim. Yes, that's it. Together with Lucrecia. They had been sitting together, looking at the stars, just talking about irrelevant things, she had been sitting much like Tifa was sitting now; slumped casually in the grass.
"What are you thinking about?"
"How pretty you are. You look so beautiful when the moonlight reflects on your face."
"Oh, hush. You're making me blush."
"You look even cuter when you blush, did you know?"
"S-stop it, Vincent!"
"You know. I wish it could stay this way forever, you and me; just sitting here, looking at the stars together."
"What do you mean?"
"When this mission is over, I'm going back to Midgar, out on new missions, and we might never see each other again."
"Don't talk like that! Of course we'll meet again."
"What are you thinking about?"
Vincent snapped back to reality. Tifa was looking at him with a hopeful face.
"Nothing." He said and looked away from her, not wanting to share his thoughts and memories with a person he had only known for a couple of weeks. In fact, he didn't want to share his memories at all with anyone.
"Aww.. Come on! Tell me! You were thinking about someone, weren't you?" she said in a somewhat teasing tone.
"I said; nothing." His voice was as cold as ice and sent chills down Tifa's spine.
"Sorry." She said and waved her hands in a protective movement. She seemed disappointed. "You know, you're the only one in the group that we actually know nothing about. You never talk about yourself."
"My past is mine, it's up to me whether I tell anyone or not." He said, trying to end the conversation as fast as he usually did. But Tifa didn't fall for it this time.
"If you never talk about yourself, how do you expect the rest of us to trust you?" Tifa's voice was annoyed, annoyed over that fact that he was doing it yet again; trying to shut himself of by stopping the conversation.
"I don't expect you to trust me." Vincent stood up and turned to leave. This had turned too personal.
"Where are you going?" she asked, still annoyed. Vincent didn't reply, he started walking. "You're running away, aren't you? Your past haunts you so badly, doesn't it? So it's just better to simply run and hope that it will go away." She said, sounding accusing.
Vincent turned around and looked at her. His eyes were completely blank and his cloak covered the rest of the face, but Tifa knew that she had hit a nerve.
"You shouldn't talk so boldly about things you don't know anything about." Vincent's voice could have invoked fear in the bravest of men, but Tifa sat where she was sitting, not even flinching.
"Then, do indulge me, so that I know what I'm talking about."
"I thought I made clear that I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, I'm a slow learner and I'm asking politely." Tifa was persistent, she WAS going to break through. Vincent would have to tell her something, eventually.
Vincent just sighed and started walking, but not back to the inn, he just walked aimlessly away from the village, away from the people around him. He just wanted to be alone.
After lying in that coffin for so long, most people would probably have gotten sick with thinking. But Vincent had just gotten sick with people.
Solitude. Loneliness. Silence.
That was all he needed.
If he was away from people, there was much less chance of him hurting anyone, or even worse, kill someone. It was one thing that could never be repeated.
'She's very pretty, Vincent. Why do you push her away?'
Great, now They had woken up.
"Shut up, Galian. I don't need your 'advise'." Vincent said.
'She's not that different from Lucrecia, you know. But you still push her away from you.' Galian was mocking him with a dangerously playful tone to his voice.
Vincent wanted to just shut Galian off, like a radio, but he couldn't. Galian was a part of him and he was a part of Galian.
"Galian, shut up and go to sleep like the rest." Vincent covered his ears in a futile attempt to shut out Galian's voice.
'I'm done sleeping, Vincent. I want to get out, now,' Vincent could feel Galian moving impatiently inside his mind.
"Please, Galian. Just go back to sleep."
'What are you afraid of, Vincent? That your newfound friends will find out about Us? Or maybe that you will kill them? Or that the whole Lucrecia thing will repeat itself, and you will have to add another sin to your list?'
Vincent tried not to listen as Galian counted up all these things, it was true, he was afraid that this would happen.. But he couldn't, Galian's voice was inside his head.
'But I do believe you've been very impolite, Vincent, you haven't introduced any of Us to them.'
"You don't deserve a proper introduction, you fuckhead. Now shut the hell up and sleep."
'Or could it be that you're ashamed of Us? Afraid that your friends will push you away like everybody else has done? Or maybe even lock you up in a coffin for another thirty years?'
"Shut up." Vincent's voice was trembling. Galian was getting better at pushing Vincent's buttons, he had no idea how much longer he would be able to keep any of Them under control.
'Who would ever accept a freak like you?'
"Shut up!"
'Freak. Outcast.'
"Just shut up!"
Vincent could almost hear Galian smirking.
'Murderer.' Galian's voice was a threatening
Vincent fell down to his knees, staring into the void with blank eyes as Galian uttered that word.
"I'm not a murderer."
'It was an entire village, Vincent. Do you suspect it just caught fire and everybody just died by accident?'
"I didn't kill anyone. YOU killed them." He said, knowing it himself to a lie.
'I wasn't the one who lost control. You lost the control, Vincent, and that led to the death of an entire village.'
"I didn't lose control." Vincent placed his hand on both sides of his head. "Get out of my head!"
'I am a part of who you are now. You will never get rid of me. You can either just accept that I'm here, or you can make this hard for the both of us.'
"I will never accept you. Now GET OUT! GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!" he fell down to his knees, his eyes wide-opened with panic and his hands grasping his head so hard that it actually hurt.
Galian growled.
There was a bolt of pain in Vincent's back and he jerked forward, falling down on the grass. There was another bolt of pain, even greater than the last one.
He knew what was happening. Galian was trying to break through, Vincent's body was trying to change accordingly to his mind as Galian tried to take over.
But Vincent fought, he wouldn't allow Galian to get out. He couldn't allow Galian to get out.
Vincent clenched his teeth tightly together, trying as hard as he could not to scream, he was used to pain, he had suffered gunshots and even torture in his days as a Turk, but he was just a human, not immortal.
Vincent let out a scream as he curled together, making himself to a round ball, like a child, in a futile attempt to wish the pain away. His claws tearing into the flesh of his good hand as he clenched it to a fist.
'Aw, did I hurt you 'Vince'? '
Vincent knew that Galian was hurting him, Galian was playing with him like a cat plays with a mouse.
The bolts of pain started coming swifter and swifter until they finally merged together into a throbbing, constant pain that spread through Vincent's body like an infection.
Vincent couldn't hear himself screaming anymore, he just did, hoping that Galian would just stop, all he could hear was Galian's laughter inside his head.
"St-stop! Please… just stop." He managed to pant out when Galian stopped momentarily.
'Do you want me to stop, Vincent? Then let me out and I'll make this pain go away.'
"No." Vincent's voice was filled with fear and determination, he couldn't let Galian out, he wouldn't allow it, ever again.
The pain started again and became more and more intense.
Vincent wondered how much more he would be able to take before he died. He almost hoped that he would die, here and now, he wanted to end it all. He wanted to feel the cold and dark comfort of death and take Them with him, but he knew that it was just a dream that would never come true, Chaos would never allow his host to die.
"Vincent??" a voice shouted farther away.
It was Tifa.
Galian suddenly went back to Their part of Vincent's mind, reminding him of a criminal that flees the scene at the sight of the police, leaving Vincent drained of energy and with a subtle, yet throbbing pain through his body.
"Holy --.. Vincent! Are you okay??"
Vincent felt someone picking him up and holding him in her arms. Lucrecia had once done this when he had been bitten by a monster and left half-dead outside the Makou reactor in Nibelheim.
"L-Lucrecia?" he whispered, his head wasn't working properly. He lifted his metal claws and touched Tifa's cheek. "Lucrecia… You came back." He said and smiled.
"We need to get you to a hospital." He heard her say.
He snapped back to reality. He grabbed Tifa's arm with his claws.
"No, please. No doctor. They'll.. you'll see… what I am.."
The world went blurry and Vincent passed out, unable to hold on to reality or consciousness.