A/N: In my story, Ages Past, events took a different turn than I had planned. So. I'm writing a parallel to go along with that which will be exactly what I planned. This is where the parallel starts, where the branch is. It's…Ah…The first 11 chapters are all exactly the same and I was far too lazy to repost them. So, read the first eleven chapters in Ages Past first. Much love!

Disclaimer: Don't own it, not making any money off it.

Vincent stared at her. His…mother…?

She burst out laughing, which quickly turned to a coughing fit. "No, silly, how can I be your mother? I'm younger than you. Still, the look on your face was priceless. I've always wanted to…" She broke out coughing again.

Vincent, irritated, waited for her to recover. He wanted an explanation.

She got hold of herself. "Okay, so you lost your sense of humor. Note to self; don't joke with Vince."

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"We grew up together, Vince," she said. "We were best friends, until you shoved off to join the Turks."

He looked at her. He really didn't remember. She had a question of her own. "So how did you find me anyway?"

He explained as quickly as he could about the dreams. She looked troubled at the end of her explanation. "I thought those were dreams. My memories, except this new you was in them. I knew you, still, though. I thought I was finally losing my mind."

"What about the promise you mentioned?" he pressed.

"Well, once, a long time ago, before you left," she told him, "you promised you'd take care of me. You always had, anyway. We practically lived together. Even though you were three years older, you always looked out for me."

"You knew me…when I was young…" he mused. "I can't remember my childhood."

"Man, they did a number on you," she stated. "They must have really hated you to pull that kind of stuff."

"Hojo did," he said distantly, trying to remember. He caught perceptions, scents, colors…Nothing definite.

"Why?"

Vincent snorted. "Because I stood up to him. Because I was the one who showed him all his failings. Because I fell in love with his wife."

"Ah, yes," she breathed. "Lucrecia. How well I remember her."

"You knew Lucrecia?" he demanded, jumping on that. The door opened, but he didn't seem to hear it.

"Yes," she replied hoarsely, "but that seems to be a tale for another day." She nodded to Tifa, whom Vincent had not seen enter.

"She'll still be here tomorrow, Vincent," Tifa chastised, chasing him out. "We don't want her to die, so let her be!"

He acquiesced, but was not pleased about it. He sought out the roof to try and make sense out of everything he'd learned.

The rooftop was one of the few places he could actually be alone. Still, it was never for long. He missed the solitude of the Forgotten City. There was silence.

"Vincent Valentine."

He almost sighed. Shelke.

"Yes."

"You saw her today. Kiya." He nodded. "What did she tell you?"

"She claims to have known me…before. It would explain the familiarity I feel, even the protectiveness. I was, apparently, very protective of her. That was the promise, or so she says."

"You don't know."

"No. I was kicked out before she could tell me anything that might convince me."

"Will you go back tomorrow?"

"Of course."

She was quiet a moment. "Would you like company?" she asked at last.

He was silent, contemplating. Then he nodded. "Yes. I would. If only so I don't kill her myself."

Shelke nodded. "Very well. I shall take on the role of her protector. Get some rest, Vincent Valentine. I have a feeling you'll need it."

Despite Shelke's wise words, he remained on the rooftop long into the night.

A/N: This one'll be shorter, too.