We are not frightened anymore,

We stood up, we stood up.

…We can blame a change of mind,

A seismic shift in times.

They told us not to fight,

But we'll fight it 'till we die.

A Fine Frenzy, Stood up.

"Shouldn't we do something more? It can't be healthy living in a coffin like that," I say, between heavy breaths.

The air is stale and dusty and I'm trying hard to keep the debris out of my lungs- though our speed and the frequency of our encounters with monsters isn't helping much.

We're practically running out of the mansion by this point, quickly jogging up the dark, damp, spiral staircase. Lucky for us, the old generator out back still runs- for some unknown reason, so the mansion isn't completely consumed with darkness.

It's just Cloud and I, the rest of the group has bunkered down at the motel for the evening. Cloud, however, couldn't leave the mansion alone- needed a go at it before we moved on to Mount Nibel in the morning.

"Sorry, Tifa. You can't save everyone-sometimes they don't want to be saved," Cloud says to me, as if it's a profound revelation.

"Look," I say, while grabbing hold of his bicep, trying to get him to pay attention to anything other than his single-minded desire to find Sephiroth.

"'Look' what, Tifa?" I pull my hand back and take a moment, trying to think of the right words.

I crack my knuckles before beginning- a nervous habit: "Look- we didn't even really do anything to help. All we did was try and guilt him into a fight that isn't his."

"Isn't his?" Cloud halts his step suddenly and I trip over myself to keep from falling into his chest. Stopping directly in front of me, he looks less than impressed; apparently I have his attention now.

"Teef, the guy admitted to pretty much aiding Hojo in his Sephiroth experiment."

"No," I say, annoyed that the man's words were twisted inside of Cloud's mind; honestly, did you hear what he said?

"He said he couldn't stop it from happening, not that he did it."

"Same thing, Tifa."

"Right, and us blowing up a reactor and Shinra blowing up the plate support for the slums, is the same thing?"

His face crunches up like it always does when he's confronted with a truth he'd rather not think about. It's happening more and more- the longer we stay here; the more we find out, the more it happens.

"We're the good guys, Tifa," he says, as if that alone makes it right. As if that alone makes it true.

"And maybe, so is he," I return, "the least we could have done was get his name," I add as an after-thought.

"What does it matter, Tifa? It's just one more name in the list of people we've come across and left behind. You know, probably better than anyone, just how important it is to stop Sephiroth- to stop Shinra. Stop them from hurting more people like they hurt us."

It's a low blow, bringing up the old Nibelheim like that. Like I can't see what Shinra's obviously done to the town- stamped out the past, erased the horrors, the deaths- made it all go away.

It's not subtle, but he's never been like that. Might as well just come out and said what he was really thinking: the man in the coffin is probably not useful to our cause, so why worry about him?

"You don't need to question my resolve, Cloud. I lost a parent that day, too."

That day…do you really remember it, Cloud? Because what you seem to think and what I actually remember…just don't add up.

But I keep silent. I'm doing more and more of that, these days. Keeping silent, keeping still, keeping the peace- hiding the truth, but what is the truth anymore?

For me, the truth is I lost almost everything here once and I'm not looking for a repeat performance. This man in the coffin seems like he lost everything here once, too.

Difference is; I got a second chance. My sensei…my friends in Midgar…Cloud. I was given a second chance by people who cared.

Did this man have a second chance? Are we it?

Or am I just trying to save someone else in place of the others I couldn't.

…Jessie…Biggs…Wedge…Dad… I shiver at the memory of them, at the memory of their loss.

"I know, Teef. I know…" he loosely wraps his arm around me, half pulling me through the dilapidated kitchen, towards the stairs, adding: "some people are just more lost than others."

I look at him sharply. I wonder if he knows how that sounds coming from him.

Maybe I should let this one go… I have enough to deal with here…With Cloud. I think to myself.

But somehow, I just can't.

I couldn't stop her…the one I loved most…face the worst…Beautiful Lucrecia…Sephiroth's mother…That is my sin… The man's words rebound inside my mind.

What do you have to atone for, Tifa? What are your sins? I wonder to myself.

Earlier I'd stood there, watching him as he replaced the lid to his coffin- his self-imposed atonement, self-imposed prison, and done nothing.

In fact, I think I had the gall to feel a little miffed; I mean, there we were, practically going to hand-deliver him his revenge- one crazed scientist who has this amazing ability to pop up no matter where we find ourselves- and he did nothing.

He told us to leave.

Slid the lid shut.

What's wrong with him? I'd thought, we not good enough to join up with? Pasty asshole.

As if he somehow owed us for the invitation.

And I just couldn't let it go; I'd fought for him, tried to convince Cloud to go back and give it another chance, and even now I can't get him out of my head.

It's funny, this evening had started out so differently. Cloud asked me- me, not Aerith, not anyone else, to come out into the town with him.

Here I thought that he and I would have the opportunity to reminisce, to get closer…maybe even have a chance to figure out what exactly is going on inside of that head of his.

But no, it wasn't a romantic interlude or even a nostalgic, hometown rediscovery- it was: "You remember the old mansion, right Tifa? I don't want to risk anyone else getting hurt; sometimes they just don't know what they're getting themselves into. And, besides, you have experience."

Right. Fine. Great. So what you really mean is that you didn't want to risk Aerith getting hurt when she inevitably encountered something she wasn't tough enough, or shiny, smiley, good-girl enough to repel.

But Tifa, well, she's not quite the good girl, is she? Too rough around the edges for that, too tough, too opinionated- too much.

And yet, still never quite enough.

So, we went there and back again.

Back to the hotel, to the group, to the chummy atmosphere, to the giggles- despite what we're facing, what we've faced.

Usually I can handle it; hell, sometimes I even join in- but not tonight. Tifa's Aerith and Cloud's Aerith are two separate people in my mind and I'd like to keep my Aerith as a friend and not a competitor for the moment.

And so, here I am. Again.

But maybe Cloud is right. Maybe some people can't be saved.

I kick the gravel that lines the walkway towards the mansion and decide.

No, maybe not everyone can be saved, but everyone deserves a second chance.

Cloud…he's almost possessed with his desire to find and destroy Sephiroth. There's something unnatural about it, something that's rejecting and ignoring the sacrifices that we have made and will have to make to achieve our goal.

It's almost as if the only thing that's important anymore is whether or not we find and kill Sephiroth- to end it, but the memories and feelings just don't add up and I can't help but feeling like Cloud is going to crash and burn before this is all said and done.

I purposefully make my way towards the entrance and bound my way quickly through the door and up the stairs.

I figure if I can just blast on in as quickly as possible, the less monsters that are likely to jump me, right? Right.

And it's going pretty good, if I don't say so myself; I almost make it half way out the exit at the bottom of the stairs before they strike.

Vampire Bats, lots of them.

Beady, fucking, little things- really give me the creeps, but it's nothing that I haven't handled before.

In fact, as children in Nibelheim, when truth or dare was played there was always a dare that involved grabbing something from the old Shinra mansion and then getting out.

I'm lucky Zangan was always a strict karate sensei, so I never had much to worry about when it came to self defense- and I was one of his star students.

No, the only issue with the monsters inside of the mansion now was their tendency to attack in packs…as they had currently decided to do with me.

Funny, I consider between rapid kata combos, I wonder if the man in the coffin has been here this entire time.

People always made up stories about a man haunting the Shinra mansion, but that goes without saying for any old building.

Maybe they were closer to the truth than they realized.

I'm a pretty grounded fighter, that is, I'm solid when it comes to the battlefield; not one for a lot of flair- aside from when things get hairy, but generally I find that keeping that ease of mobility and a fluid range of motion does wonder for my success rate.

So I'm holding my own pretty well, that is until one of the little flying shits decides to take a kamikaze dive towards my head- fangs out and ready to leave a nasty mark on my face.

I brace myself for the inevitably painful impact- until a shotgun blast blows it straight out of the air and the thing lands dead at my feet.

"I was certain I told you and your friend to leave," is all my savior says.

I stare over at him, a little dumbfounded.

Maybe he really is just an asshole wallowing in self-pity, I consider.

"Uh, thanks for having my back on that one; I'm Tifa, by the way," I mumble, deciding to ignore his rudeness.

He just stares at me, almost as if I've suddenly sprung a new limb out the middle of my forehead, before turning to walk back down the hallway, towards the coffin room.

"Hey!" I yell to his back.

He stops and stares at me again- it's kind of intense and I lose my train of thought rather quickly.

What strange eyes…are they red? How expressive…

He clears his throat to regain my attention, "Yes?" he asks, sounding impatient, like he has somewhere important to be that isn't a coffin in a dingy basement.

"Oh…" I stumble out, "Oh! Right…so you do leave the coffin then…?" I ask, genuinely curious.

He raises an eyebrow at me, so far up that it reaches into his bandana, "Only when little girls come looking for trouble they can't handle."

He starts to make his way back towards the room again.

"Well, I would have been fine; I didn't really need your help. It was just more convenient for you to shoot it than for me to take a bat to the head."

"Indeed," he says over his shoulder, "perhaps next time I'll leave you to your own devices."

"Hey…Hey!" I say while jogging up along side him, "Do you always walk away in the middle of conversations?"

He stops and turns to face me then, gaze sharp, "Do you always barge in where you're not wanted, to talk to strange men who sleep in coffins… Tifa?"

My name, he draws it out- breath catching on the syllables, turning it into something dark…and yet strangely alluring.

Oh…Oh shit. Yeah, I really didn't think this one through, did I? I mean, what do I know about this guy, other than the fact that he apparently used to work for Shinra… our enemy? Great. Brilliant.

Won't show him I'm concerned…Won't show him I'm getting scared…He's probably just being a bully to get me to leave, anyways.

I rise up tall in all my five foot four glory and stare him right in the eyes, all the while thinking: They'll put on my tombstone: Here lies Tifa Lockhart: she wasn't too smart, but she went down fighting!

"I lived and breathed this town as a child, Shinra Mansion included; you can't scare me;" I say it sharply, almost as if it's completely true.

The look in his eyes then is puzzling and far away, almost as if he's remembering something...but in a flash it's gone, replaced by something that's decidedly harder, more sinister.

"Is that so?" he says, while invading my personal space.

I can smell him now, the scent that's flowing off the fabric he hides behind- it's musty, old, almost as if he's absorbed the characteristics of the mansion he's come to belong to.

Judging by that smell, I think, in between trying to break into a strong defensive pose, he's been here for quite some time…

And then there it is again- emotions that seem to radiate from him- feelings of sadness, regret, guilt, of kinship almost - like I can understand why he'd feel the need to hide from the horrors of the world around him, the horrors that he watched happen, that he did nothing to stop.

But before I can entertain the thought further he's got me pressed into the cave-like walls of the basement- He's fast…strong…and I'm in trouble.

I notice his gauntlet now, out of the corner of my eye. It's shiny and sharp looking; he must have had it hidden behind his cape before- super observational skills, Tifa, I berate myself.

His hands are strong on my shoulders, a firmer grip than I can break out of- almost super human, but the look he gives me is anything but; it's almost as if a monster is looking out at me from behind those dark eyes only being held in check by some thin threads of humanity.

Looks like our little group of misfits aren't the only ones who came away from the Shinra experience with scars.

"Little Tifa…" he almost growls out, leaning slowly into me, dark hair brushing against my cheek, "perhaps you do have reason to fear…"

Face along side mine now, I can almost see inside the cowl he hides behind. I can feel his breath tickle the hairs on my neck…

I've been intimidated before, threatened, but there's only one time before that I've believed it- known I was out of my league and that my life was being held in the balance.

Sephiroth lived and died with this town, took my father with him, and almost took me. Looking at this man, those old feelings of helplessness and terror begin to resurface.

I need to take control so I try for bravado; I'm not willing to finish this experience with more scars and heartache: "Oh yeah? Fear what? Some ghostly, dusty relic of the Shinra Mansion basement?"

My reply seems to startle him as he goes very still against me, hands frozen against my shoulders, breath caught in his lungs.

And then the tension releases and I can feel him laugh softly against my neck before he pulls back; judging from the crinkles beside his eyes, I'd guess he's almost smiling. The monster look is gone now, replaced with one that almost seems like resignation.

Whatever demon he was grappling with apparently had retreated back into its dark depths.

He gives me my space back, apparently deciding that I can't be frightened away. No, no. I'm much too stubborn to ever give up.

"What do you want?"

Here's my chance; I have his full attention now. Better make it count.

"Does it go away?" I say softly, not able to match his gaze.

"Does what go away?" He says, retreating further back into the darkness of the hallway.

"The guilt. Does this 'atonement' make it go away?"

Now he's the one who can't meet my gaze; he seems uncomfortable with the question, but decides to humor me with an answer: "No."

"And us coming here will make it worse for you? The guilt, I mean." I pop the knuckles of my thumbs nervously.

"It is entirely probable."

"What if you could help us? I mean, a former Turk has to have some useful inside knowledge- and you have personal experience with Hojo. We could work towards a common goal?" I ask, hopefully.

"I still don't understand." He says quietly.

"What is there to understand? You come with us, help us fight, save the world, atone, and Bob's your uncle-everything works out?" I shrug at him, not completely following.

"No, not that. Why do you care, why did you come back?"

Shit. I'd kind of hoped that he'd just be dazzled by my wit and dedication and feel compelled to join us. My personal reasons are much more…well, personal!

I duck my head and softly scuff my boots into the dirty ground, "I need to believe that it's possible to atone for the sins we commit."

I look up again and catch his gaze, it seems incredulous; "What could someone as young as you have to atone for?"

I give him a half-grin, "More than you could know, but keeping silent seems to come to my mind most frequently, that and the lives that have been lost as a result of our actions."

He regards me then, almost as if seeing me, truly seeing me and not the girl in the miniskirt and the short shirt, for the first time.

"Perhaps I am not alone in my guilt," he seems to consider.

"The only time we're alone," I say quietly, "is when we chose to be."

"I am not certain I believe that," he replies, gaze slowly turning towards the end of the hallway, towards the room with the coffins.

"Give us a chance to prove it to you," I suggest. I have to win this, win him over, have to believe that it's possible for anyone to start again and work towards something good- despite the bad they've experienced.

Despite the bad they've done.

Something flashes in his eyes then, something bright and meaningful and a small bubble of hope begins to build within my heart.

"Will we meet with Hojo?" he asks.

"Well, we're chasing Sephiroth and him, so I am sure that sooner or later…"

He nods sharply and takes a step towards the stairs, "I've decided to go with you and your group."

I stare at him blankly, almost as if I can't quite understand the words that just came out of his mouth.

"Wow…that was rather abrupt," I accidently say out loud.

He raises his eyebrow at me again.

Blushing furiously I add: "Well, it was. You were all 'Mr. Dark and Moody and get out of my housey'…erm…what is your name, by the way…" I trail off, obviously failing to impress.

"Vincent; I suppose we should be leaving," he suggests, ignoring my previous comments.

I huff to myself before stepping away from the wall and walking towards the stairs.

He's so silent behind me that I find myself feeling the need to turn around and see if he's still following. Deciding I've had enough of the dead silence, I try to engage in some light conversation: "So…why a coffin? Are you a vampire or something?"

He seems to choke a little at the comment, though I'm thinking it's a pretty damn valid thing to as- why else would anyone want to sleep in a coffin?

"Are you going to be this chatty the entire time I am with you and your group?" he asks, sounding annoyed.

I swivel my head to the side and carefully guide myself half-backwards up the stairs- so I can look at him in the eyes with my beady glare.

"Well, excuse me for trying to get to know you. Are you going to avoid answering all my questions the entire time you are with our group?" I say while expertly maneuvering myself upwards.

"Only if they continue to be ridiculous," he said.

"The only thing that's ridiculous here is a man who thought that sleeping in a coffin would absolve him of his sins- instead of, you know, going out and doing something about his problems," I say before I can catch myself, stopping abruptly on at the top of the stairs.

Oh gods…Word vomit…just kept coming out- please don't eat me, please don't eat me pleasedon'teatme.

I slowly shift my body so I'm facing him, the horror evident on my face, but instead of the monster look I'm expecting, he almost looks…ashamed.

And now I feel terrible and compelled to make it right.

I step down a stair so I'm at his eyelevel, "Look Vincent…I didn't mean for that to all come out. It was wrong and I'm really in no position to judge how anyone deals with their grief, especially concerning Shinra. And I have a tendency to be nosey in my pursuit to make everything and everyone happy, so please accept my apology," I say, extending my hand.

At first, he looks at it like he's not quite sure what to do with it, or like he's surprised I've made the effort to initiate bodily contact to show my remorse.

But then he extends his own and our hands meet. His hand…it's surprisingly warm and firm in my own: a nice, proper handshake.

Aha! Too warm to be a vampire! I unashamedly think to myself.

"It has been some time since I have been in the company of others…" he says as we make our way out of the kitchen, almost as if he's apologizing for his peculiarities.

"Oh, really? How long is that?" I say while dusting some errant cobwebs from my skirt.

Gods- creepy, dirty, dusty, old mansion. I gripe to myself.

"The better part of twenty years…" he admits.

"Whoa…you've been down there for almost longer than I've been alive…" I marvel to myself, "and no one thought to check for you until now?" I say, disbelieving.

"No," he replied stiffly.

"Oh," I say while avoiding a broken board in the staircase, "well, don't worry about it. Barret's constantly around people and he still inventing new ways to offend, so I'm sure you'll fit in just fine."

"A load off my shoulders, to be sure," he remarks dryly and I turn towards him with a big grin.

"Oh my, only five minutes out and already a joke- I think this will work out just fine, Vinnie."

"Vincent. Vincent Valentine," he corrects me, apparently not that chummy-yet.

"Oh, well, do accept my humblest apologies, Mr. Valentine," I say, but I think I can see something close to a smile in his eyes.

I bounce a little as we're leaving the entrance and turn to walk backwards, facing him.

"Tifa Lockhart- Welcome to what remains of AVALANCHE," I grin.

He nods slightly at me, as if in thanks and I can't suppress the little hop in my step as we make our way towards the inn.

Maybe we can't fix every mistake we've ever made, but we can do our best to keep them from happening again- and help each other through the messes.

Somehow, I can't help but think this is a huge step forward-for both Vincent and me.

Thanks, as always, to the wonderful Fostersb for betaing! Just a little back story that I started- more to come eventually. Same universe as One Beat Away, just a little sooner. Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading and hopefully reviewing! And I should have something new for OBA soon…SOON. Pinky swears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Property of CNichole 2011- Do not use in whole or in part without the expressed permission of the author~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~