Defying Gravity

General Disclaimer: The characters being written about have not given me permission to write about them, and I gain no profit whatsoever from this. I simply use them to further my writing skills, and don't believe anything I write about to be true, no matter how much I wish it might be sometimes. Don't sue, because I have no money anyway. :)

Author's Note: Thanks to Vaishin, Draco's Daughter (many thanks for the crit! I haven't had time to fix it as I write this, but hopefully once I post this chapter), and Aeriths-Rain for reviewing! Apologies for the late update. D:

General Info: Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

Chapter Four: Minus One

These walls don't talk,
Even when somebody knocks,
These walls don't stand,
For anyone else but themselves,
These walls don't fall,
Even when gravity's failing us all

- Fair To Midland - Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes

It was raining when Reno and Vincent returned from Nibelheim. Reno led the raven-haired man to a room that was, Vincent found out, situated on the same floor as Reno's own. "Need ta' have someone here ta' watch over ya an' shit," Reno had explained, although Vincent supposed his cheery disposition was all an act. Turks did have permanent residences outside of the Shinra building after all and, judging from the bare living room he had seen from the Turk's briefly opened door, it didn't look like Reno used the Shinra apartments much.

"Yer stuff should be in yer room already, so yeah… here's a key." The silver object was handed over to him. "If ya need anythin', just knock on my door. The first meeting with th' docs is at eight tomorrow, so be ready ten minutes ahead of time or somethin', and I'll take ya down there. G'night." He tossed a hand up in the air and gave it a small wave before dropping it back down to his side, strolling in to his own apartment. Vincent's eye twitched, but he followed suit and turned around to the door of his temporary apartment.

Inside hadn't changed all that much from Vincent's own Turk days, he noticed. The walls were still a pasty green colour, and the man was disgusted to see they even had the same plaid bed sheets. He figured the company would have at least changed that much after the new building had been built, but apparently interior design wasn't one of their strong points.

Vincent snorted, thinking back to the dreary Nibelheim mansion: it wasn't like he was one to talk.

As he unconsciously compared the mansion to this tiny room, Vincent couldn't help but feel a little lonely, a feeling that not only made him embarrassed, but melancholy. The silence in this room was the same as in his mansion, yet it made him miss his old friends even more.

Now that he was in Edge, Vincent decided he would pay a little visit to Cloud and Tifa's orphanage. Perhaps he would even see Reeve in the numerous halls of the Shinra building.

A frown fit his lips briefly as he crawled underneath the sheets of the bed. First thing first, he would have to face the doctors the next morning.

The pulsing lights of the nightclub were distracting to Neilson's eyes as he roamed through the moving crowds, searching for a certain woman. He smiled as she finally became visible. She was serving a group of barely legal (although if he had to guess, they were probably underage) teenagers some martinis, and under the haze of smoke Neilson saw the panicked look in her eyes. He smirked. So she knew he was there.

It was her own error, though, that had led to this, and Neilson didn't really feel any remorse over what he was about to do. Sure, he would miss the companionship she gave him on some nights, but there were always other girls. She wasn't anything special anyway. Her legs weren't nearly as long as Vicki's, for example. He glanced at the other waitress to his right with a smirk.

Yuffie Kisaragi could easily be replaced.

She turned on her heel and made her way to the bar, stuffing a nice wad of cash in her pocket. Neilson took note of the money—there was no reason he shouldn't take it. He didn't want it to go to waste, after all. Following her path, he stepped up behind her and wrapped an arm around her flat stomach, placing a soft kiss on her ear. "You've done something bad, Yuffie." She tensed up, and upon receiving and odd look from the bartender she plastered a fake smile to her face.

"Neilson… Hey, Ernie, I'm going to take a break for a few minutes alright? Just going for a smoke." The bartender waved a hand at her and she grabbed Neilson's arm. The two calmly walked to the back exit. As they stepped out into the dark alleyway, she whirled around. "I told you not to come back here. I told you to leave me the fuck alone."

"We would gladly have left you alone if you had of followed our instructions, Yuf."

"No!" She bit out, taking a step back. "You do not get to call me that, and I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think you do." He smiled and slowly slid his hand in to his pocket, taking pleasure as she started to shake. "Marlowe isn't pleased. You've been talking to the Turks, Yuffie. That's a big no-no."

"I haven't—"

Neilson ignored her and brought out a sleek semi-automatic pistol, turning it around as if to check for scratches. Satisfied, he pointed it at her forehead. She tripped and fell to the dirty ground, eyes wide and palms sweaty. "Neilson, Neilson, please don't. I didn't tell them anything important. They just happened to be there. I swear, Neilson, please don't kill me." He said nothing and removed the safety. "Oh god, don't do this. Don't do this! People will find out. I'm part of AVALANCHE. They'll search for you. You can't do this."

"I find it ironic that somebody of your standing is serving crackheads in a place like this. If you're so strong, Yuffie, stop me yourself." He looked at her, daring her to fight back.

"You know I can't beat you. Radek, please."

He laughed. "No, Yuffie. You don't get to call me that."

The dancers inside the club didn't hear the gunshot over the beat of the music, and if they did they knew better than to get involved. At the bar, Ernie bowed his head and sighed. In the back alleyway, Neilson pushed a piece of hair behind the dead Yuffie's ear and closed her eyes.

Pocketing her tips, he left. A successful assassination always sparked his appetite.

As Reno led Vincent down to the labs in the basement of the new Shinra building, he tossed a few winks to the various female employees doing their work, and received a few glares in return. He had quite the reputation, and it wasn't necessarily good. In fact, the women had collectively decided to call him Sleep-And-Leave, although he didn't know that.

He left the ex-Turk with the doctors—he really had no desire to hear all the medical shit—and after wishing him luck made his way up to Tseng's office. Last night he had been notified of a significant development in the case of a prominent drug lord, and the meeting this morning was supposed to be an important one.

Twenty minutes later, he gaped at his boss. He hadn't expected it to be quite that shocking.

"Kisaragi's dead?!" He shouted. "No fuckin' way. That kid was awesome."

"Apparently her awesome didn't hold up against Marlowe's gang. She knew this might happen when she talked to us, so we really shouldn't dwell on her death. AVALANCHE will be notified, and that will be the end of it." Tseng sighed when the surprise stayed on the redhead's face. "You're welcome to attend her funeral. I understand it will be held at Wutai in one week."

Elena, standing to the left of Reno, looked down to the ground. "It's too bad… she was nice."

"How she even managed to tangle herself up in this bullshit is beyond me," Reno muttered. At his right, Rude remained silent, sunglasses hiding any shock he might have felt.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that they killed her for a reason. They know we talked to her, and any lead we might have had on this case has just disappeared. I sent Elena down to the warehouse Yuffie told us about earlier, and everything has been destroyed. They've changed locations.

"Our best bet now is to tail the man who murdered her. The bartender at Yuffie's place of work said she called him Neilson. Along with his description, her killer was one Radek Neilson. He does all of Marlowe's dirty work. The only piece of information we have on him location-wise is that every night at ten he visits the bar down on Yardly Avenue. I've already assigned Rude to watch over him and attempt to follow him back to their new hideout.

"Once we find that, I will hold another meeting detailing our infiltration. You're all dismissed." The Turks filed out of Tseng's office with a dejected slump to their shoulders. Each had been a friend to the young Yuffie Kisaragi in some way, and the news of her death had been anything but easy.

"What really sucks about this is that I'm the one who has to tell AVALANCHE," Elena stated as they rounded the corner and each headed to their respective offices. Reno whistled.

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically. "You could do me a favour, though. Can you tell Vincent? You know him better than I do."

Reno decided not to mention the fact that he had only really started talking to the man a few days ago when he saw the desperate look in Elena's eyes. "Yeah, okay." She thanked him and Reno wondered what the hell he was thinking.

He'd have to find the right moment and make sure the man didn't have a gun near him.

When he picked Vincent up a few hours later, the doctor informed him that he was very drugged up at the moment, and would likely be sick later on. Somebody would need to watch over him. Reno nodded and slung the man's arm over his shoulders, slowly walking him back to his apartment.

Suddenly, Reno stopped. "You have your gun, Vince?" A sluggish moan was his reply, and they started walking again. "I hate doing this to you now, but I don't want you to kill me later on. I've got something to tell you."

The doctor had failed to mention that whatever drugs were clogging up Vincent's system made him uncharacteristically emotional. Currently Reno sat on Vincent's bed, awkwardly patting the man on the back as he cried in to his hands. Reno admitted that he probably shouldn't have said Vincent wouldn't be able to attend the funeral due to his frailty at the moment, but he did find some sort of relief in the fact that his comment was not met with the dangerous end of a gun.

"'Lena's goin' to be notifying the other AVALANCHE guys. If ya want, I can see if Cloud or Tifa will come to visit you or somethin'."

As the crying continued, Reno sighed. He'd try to reason with the man later, he thought, rocking him back and forth.

Vincent woke up a few hours later feeling miserable. He felt stiff, his eyes were sore, and he had the largest headache he'd ever had before. It took him a few moments to remember the events after his first appointment, and when he did he couldn't even find the strength to sit up.

If he had only tried to find her when she wouldn't pick up her cell phone all those years ago, he could have prevented this.

Bile rose in his throat and he twisted his head over the right side of the bed, hot tears stinging his eyes as he vomited, staining the beige carpets. It felt like it wouldn't stop, and he coughed, spitting up some foul liquid since he never ate anyway. He felt the hand on his back and recognized it as a small comfort, but only until he realized who it was.

"What are you doing here?" He hissed, wiping his mouth on the bed sheets.

"The doc said this might happen. He gave me some meds." Reno grabbed a glass of water from the desk and lifted it to Vincent's lips, urging him to drink it. "I mixed it into the water so it'd be easier to take."

Vincent gladly drank from the glass, taking deep breaths once he was finished. He crawled up on to the bed and tried to fight down more waves of nausea.

"Get some sleep. I'll wake ya up for yer next appointment, okay? It won't always be like this, I promise." Before the door closed, Vincent heard a small whisper. "I'm sorry, Vince."

Vincent said nothing in reply.