Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII is the property of Square Enix. I do not own any of the characters used here.
Author's Note: This is just a little something that came to me all of a sudden, and I liked the idea enough to write it down. I'm still hard at work on SOLDIER's Pride, but expect many more of these little "side-fics" because I'm full of them lately. Please review - constructive criticism is always appreciated!
The morning was looking promising for the citizens of Kalm. The sun rose early and shone bright, the sky was clear and the chilly air was clean, and the snow from the blizzard of only a few days ago was already melting away. The sounds of the awakening village could be heard just after sunrise: the chirping of the birds, the bustle of shopkeepers hurrying off to work, children laughing and playing in the snow, and –
"KEH-CHOO!" The sneeze was loud enough to be heard through the thin walls of the small hotel room, had there been anyone around to hear it. The source of the sound, a pale, red-eyed, ebony-haired man dressed all in black, sniffled and sighed, reaching for yet another tissue from the box on the bedside table. Vincent Valentine groaned, sneezing again and coughing quietly into the crook of his arm. This was not good. He could feel the tip of his nose being rubbed red, and he could already imagine the jokes Yuffie would surely make when she saw him in Edge tonight. It was her twenty-first birthday, after all, and all of AVALANCHE would be there, so there was no way he could miss it. Vincent was almost never sick – in fact, the last illness he remembered had been during his Turk days, over three decades ago – and he hated it with every cell in his body. He would just have to tough it out, though, because besides the party later tonight, he was expected to report for duty at the W.R.O. Headquarters today to spend the morning training new recruits in, as Reeve had phrased it, "some damn good sharpshooting."
Standing up slowly, he pulled himself away from the soft warmth of the down comforter, running his fingers through his unruly black hair in a half-hearted attempt to tame it a little before donning his signature red cloak and slipping Cerberus into its holster on his hip. Sighing, he strode out of his room, making sure it was locked behind him, and headed for the front door of the hotel. As an afterthought, he drank a cup of coffee from the pot in the lobby before departing; he didn't feel like breakfast this morning, but he knew he should at least get something on his stomach before a training session. With much more careful steps than usual, he made his way out of the hotel and down the streets of Kalm, heading for the shooting range outside of town.
"Valentine, you're not well. You should go back to bed", Chaos muttered from the recesses of Vincent's mind. The gunslinger sighed and gave the demon the best mental glare he could muster.
"I am fine, Chaos. It's just a simple cold. I will return to bed after I have trained these recruits and attended Yuffie's party."
"Fine, he says," Chaos growled teasingly. "Well if you're so fine, I guess I won't warn you like I was going to, since you're doing such a fine job of handling yourself."
"Warn me? About wh – AAARGH!" Vincent actually shouted aloud as his right foot fell into a deep hole, sending him face-first into the middle of the dirt road. Groaning and spitting dirt out of his mouth, he carefully sat up and glared inwardly as Chaos cackled in his head.
"Careful, Valentine. There are a lot of potholes around here. GYAHAHAHAHAAA!"
"You don't say." Vincent was too tired to argue with Chaos at the moment. The fall had made his headache worse, and he noticed that his vision was a little blurry, probably due to the dust in his eyes. He stood, which turned out to be much more difficult than it should have due to the fact that his legs were now shaking, and lifted his PHS from his pocket. He considered just calling Reeve and cancelling the training session, since he was beginning to doubt that he could even stay standing long enough to shoot anything, but his pride ruled that idea out immediately. He was just going to have to deal with it. With more determination than walking usually requires, he gritted his teeth and started off once again, watching carefully for any more holes in the road. Chaos snickered at him the entire time.
By the time Vincent reached the training field, he had managed to convince himself that all of his symptoms were in his head, and that a little practice with the recruits was exactly what he needed. Despite the warning rumbles from Chaos in the back of his mind, he greeted Reeve almost eagerly, noting the surprise on the other man's face with amusement. Dark clouds were gathering overhead – so much for that perfect weather – but no one seemed to notice. Vincent was quickly occupied with instructing the eager new recruits, who seemed to look up to him almost like he had looked up to the Turks as a child. He spent the better part of four hours correcting their postures, telling some to loosen and others to tighten their grips on their guns, teaching them how to aim better and calculate how the breeze would affect the direction of the shot, and anything else he deemed important.
He was about to wrap up the session with a demonstration using Cerberus when the gathering clouds decided to burst open. In only a few seconds, everyone was soaked to the bone in freezing rain. Reeve, still grinning at Vincent despite his obvious shivering, waved at the gunman and shouted over the rain, "I think that's a wrap, Vincent! Thanks for your help!" Vincent nodded and departed with the rest of them, pulling his cloak as closely around himself as he could in an attempt to repel some of the water. He was suddenly exhausted, and he suspected that he had gotten so caught up in the training session that he had failed to notice his waning strength. He felt like lead weights were tied to his arms and legs, and his joints all felt stiff as he trudged through the mud back to his hotel room. By the time he had unlocked his door and stepped inside, his vision had begun to swim, and he felt very hot despite the icy rain dripping from his clothes and hair.
With slow, shaky steps, he reached the bed and flopped heavily onto it, leaving his feet to dangle off the foot of the bed as he lay motionless on his stomach. His wet hair was dripping onto the blankets, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was sleep for another thirty years; his eyelids felt heavier than a fat Chocobo. He could hear Chaos muttering something to him, but none of the words made sense. Sleep… That's what he needed… Sleep…
A few seconds later, Vincent Valentine was curled up on the bed, completely dead to the world.