The ebony haired man watched in silence as the other members of AVALANCHE began to set up camp in a clearing in one of the forests, the tall trees shadowing the camp. The tents were set up by Tifa Lockhart, the meal prepared by Cid Highwind. Cloud Strife was searching for water and Barrett Wallace was lounging around with Nanaki and Cait Sith. The crimson clad male distanced himself from the group, not wanting to know where the final member of their group was.

That was until she jumped before him from where she sat on the tree above his head. Yuffie Kisaragi. The 'Great Ninja'. The 'White Rose of Wutai'. The man sighed, closing his crimson eyes as the ninja's own cocoa eyes stared at him. "C'mon Vince~" She sang with a grin. "You not gonna eat with us?" Vincent noticed that Cid had finished preparing the meal- the meagre rations they had until they reached the next town. A trip he would avoid by waiting for them outside. A trip he would avoid because he wished to dodge the harsh calls he found he was given, shouting names at the intimidating man that barely looked human. He looked at the young woman before him and shook his head. He hadn't told the group he travelled with that he refrained from eating meat- the main food in their diet. It kept the demons at bay, he thought with a sigh, and he had never liked it- it was unpleasant and repulsive. "Pleeaaassse?" The girl pouted, a strangely cute look on her, a thought that that he had to brush the thought off. He shook his head again, and Yuffie grabbed his wrist, dragging the unwilling male towards the others, who sat around a fire as the darkness began to creep in. The ninja didn't notice his discomfort, even though he flinched from her grip and tried to pull away while being dragged. Yuffie sat, making him sit between her and Cid.

Cid offered him a chipped plate of whatever the meat they were making that night, and he shook his head, fighting the urge to wrinkle his nose at one, his hunger, and two, the pungent smell of the dead creature. Cid frowned, but shrugged, placing the plate on the floor. Vincent turned his gaze to the fire, watching the embers dance around each other, spiralling into the sky.

He couldn't help but notice the distrustful looks Tifa and Barrett shot him, or the fact Cait Sith stayed away from the crimson clad man. Even Yuffie seemed wary of the man, once found sleeping in a coffin in the basement of the dark mansion. The meal passed silently, the silence broken only by the laughing Yuffie when she launched a thin bone at Cloud, striking him in the forehead.

The brooding blond was less than impressed.

"…Cait, Nanaki." Cloud said when everything had been cleaned up. "You two will be sharing a tent." The cat and the lion-wolf nodded, heading towards the tent motioned to. "I'm sharing with Barrett, and Tufa and Yuffie… you two'll be there." Cloud pointed to the tent closest to the dying fire. "Cid… Vincent, you'll be in that one." Vincent noticed he was pointing to the tent furthest away from the others. Cid nodded with his trademark grin, a cigarette jammed between his teeth. Vince looked away from Cloud and Cid, but didn't protest, before standing and heading into the small canvas tent.

Vincent removed both his cloak, headscarf, shoes and right glove, his sharp ears picking up the conversation outside. "He could at least speak to us!" Yuffie cried.

"…You shouldn't push him." Tifa muttered in response.

"'e is who he is." Cid snapped at the ninja princess.

"But he doesn't have to be a mope all the time!" He'd heard enough. He sat down, leaning on the main support pole of the tent, before closing his crimson eyes. Too scared to lie down? The voice in his head made Vincent flinch.

"I do not wish to return to my punishment." He muttered to himself, the one of the voices, different to the first, laughed, and the former Turk sighed, drifting into his usual, fitful sleep.

Cid wandered in moments later, smiled softly at the sleeping male, before laying down himself, and falling asleep himself.

Green liquid surrounded him. All he could feel was pain and fear, the scar where the bullet had hit him still burning in pain. Any movement send waves of agony through his tortured body, mostly radiating from his most recent wound. His left hand was mutilated beyond repair, and he didn't want to remember the experiments that lead to it. He was roused from his pain by the hyena like laughter that reminded him of his sin.

The image changed.

He was strapped to a table, unimaginable pain ripping through his already damaged body. The sedation was wearing off, and the agony tore both his mind and body to shreds.

The image changed.

The woman he had come to love stood before him, her belly swollen with the mutated child she carried, tested on by the man who had done this to him. His dull, glassy crimson eyes stared through the tank of green liquid he was encased in, and he felt his eyes welling up. It still hurt. Looking at her hurt. Moving hurt. Living hurt. Everything hurt him. Her lips moved but he could hear nothing, and his consciousness faded.

The image changed.

Darkness. Crushing, enveloping darkness. Pain. Darkness. Pain. Fear. Terror. Pain.

Darkness.

His sleep was fitful in his self-appointed punishment. His emotions were more so.

He felt volatile, waking and sleeping in an endless circle. The demons in his head calling to him, making the pain worse. The endless pain.

The pain he still felt, even in waking.

That was his true punishment.

Cid awoke, noticing it was still dark outside. As he searched for the source of what woke him from his sleep, a faint whimper came from the direction of the older man he shared the tiny tent with. Vincent was still sitting, his knees drawn to his chest like a small child. The hand that wore the clawed gauntlet resting on the floor, his other arm resting on his knees, and on that arm his head rested. Cid watched the ebony haired man silently until he heard the whimper again, and Vincent lifted his head. He face was twisted in pain. The pain of a man who had suffered countless times. Eyes wandered back and forth behind sealed eyelids, and that was when the screaming started.

The darkness had faded, and he was back, his arms and legs strapped to the table. He was barely conscious, and his vision was hazy. All he knew what that he was naked, save for a bloodied towel thrown over his legs, and that torture he was going through was his own fault, and his alone. The already blazing agony increased as his shadowed torturer took a scalpel to his chest, causing his consciousness to waver.

He didn't understand how he survived the gunshot, nor how he was awake as his insides were being prodded and probed, but he didn't care about that.

His world had become pain, and it was unbearable. It had developed to the point that the constant suffering he was under would stop him from losing consciousness.

He was going insane.

And as another incision was made to his body, his diseased brain began to scream, and so did he.

Cid clutched Vincent by the shoulders, shaking him roughly, but as he did so, the nightmare ridden man lashed out, his left hand- the hand graced with the golden gauntlet- swiped towards him. The pilot barely had time to roll out of the way before the side of the tent he had his back was sliced in a ragged mess. Vincent's scream cut off as he lashed out, his crimson eyes wide with terror.

"…Vince?" Cid murmured to the pale, terrified man, who looked like an overgrown, scared child. He didn't respond, only ran his hand over his face, releasing an exhausted, pained sigh. "…Vincent." Cid cocked his head slightly to the side as he moved closer to the man. There was still no response. "….Hey, Valentine…" His tone was concerned, and his eyes, the colour of the sky he loved so much, were brimmed with worry, and strangely, fear. Vincent looked at the pilot, his raven-wing hair falling over his eyes.

"What is it, Highwind…?" Vincent responded eventually, blood-red meeting sky-blue.

"Are ya okay, Valentine?" The pilot asked, and once more, the dark haired male stayed silent. "…Hmph." Cid grunted, edging closer. It was impossible to not notice the shivers that repeatedly assaulted Vincent, and it was just as impossible to ignore the fact that Vincent was slowly backing away. "…You don't like... closeness, do ya, Vince?" Cid uttered under his breath.

Vincent, with his hearing sharper than that of a dogs, nodded once. Cid blinked, not expecting to get a reply, or even to be heard, narrowed his eyes. Cid sat where he was, gazing at the man until he adverted his gaze, crimson eyes falling to stare at the tear in the canvas tent, then at the golden gauntlet that caused the damage. "Ya should get back to sleep." Cid grumbled, and Vincent froze.

A frightened stare enveloped the pilot, and he blinked again. "No." Came the shaky response.

"Vince…"

"No."

"…Why not?"

All he got was a solid glare, devoid of emotion. Then his eyes clicked shut and he turned away.

"I could always help ya sleep." Cid offered, and the eyes opened again.

"How? No one can help me, Highwind." The reply was instantaneous, seeming almost rehearsed.

"Bullshit." The pilot spat, and Vincent flinched. "Now. Lie next t'me and as long as ya don't mind bein' so close, ya might be able t'sleep better." Cid explained, lying back down where he was before. Vincent opened his mouth as if to protest, but it snapped shut again, knowing better than to argue with the temperamental man.

He slowly unclasped the gauntlet on his arm, placing it with the cloak, leaving the glove he ware under the gold buckled tightly to his arm, before he hesitantly moved to lay beside the shorter man.

Cid turned to look at Vincent, and careful not to frighten him- since truly he was no different to a scared child, he wrapped his strong, tanned arms around the skinny, pale frame of the man. He noticed the other tense, but as he slowly began to relax, he curled into the chest of the blue-clad pilot, his arm thrown loosely over Cid's side.

Pathetic. He needs to sleep with someone!

He's like a child.

Pitiful. The demons in his mind were at it again, but Vincent was comfortable, for one of the few times since he had awoken.

I hate to believe that this man is truly our host. But Vincent was already asleep.

Cid smiled softly, surprised at how quickly the offer had been accepted, and how swiftly the other had fallen asleep.

Sunlight filtered through the tears in the fabric, waking Cid. Sky blue eyes blinking away the sleep, he looked down at Vincent- still sleeping, and looking like an innocent young boy, curled in a ball and smiling softly in his sleep.

Loathe as he was to do so, Cid shook him awake, and Vincent yawned, his raven-wing hair a mess around his head. "Nn…?" The little groan was almost cute. Cid smiled.

"Mornin' sunshine." Cid greeted, as Vincent sat. "You sleep okay?" There was genuine concern in the question.

"Nn..." Vincent grunted again as if it was a coherent response. "…Thanks, Chief." He said after a moment, and Cid nodded.

"Oh, and Vince…?" Cid asked, once the pair of them were ready to leave the tent.

"…Hm?"

"You're really jus' a little kid inside, y'know?" Vincent watched after the pilot, a bewildered expression on his face.

"…Huh?" But the pilot had already left, and Vincent shook his head, trying to understand the strangely warm feeling he felt fluttering in his long dead heart.