A/N: This is the first installment of my "Changing Times" collection, a companion fic for "Times of Separation." It's a collection of one-shots to serve as background for some of the character interaction in TOS. Read along with TOS, read this on its own, read it as an Epilog, whatever.
What it Takes
The cold wind bit the pale skin of his face bitterly. Sleep was something not meant of Vincent Valentine. His cold, empty eyes took in the sights of the Forgotten Capital. This place was just a legend when he was a Turk. Now he was seeing it, but he didn't deserve it.
The blood red eyes of a demon should never taint such a holy place with their presence. He shouldn't taint a group of such righteous fighters like AVALANCHE with his presence. He shouldn't taint Aeris by him being here.
This was her time to shine. Holy was her spell. This world was hers to save. She is the only one who can do it. She's the only Cetra left. Cetra's were not meant to travel with demons. The Cetra's natural enemies were the demons. Now a demon is protecting the sole surviving Cetra.
That certainly wasn't right. It wasn't right that his Peacemaker wasn't loaded either, but he couldn't leave them in their time of need.
Tifa woke with a start. Another nightmare. They had been coming to her more and more frequently over the past few weeks. This one wasn't any more terrifying than the rest, but she woke with a bad feeling. Something terrible was going to happen tonight.
Tifa's feet unconsciously carried her out of her room and onto the streets of the City of the Ancients. A cool breeze brought a smile to her face, but a cold man took it right back from her. She just stood back and watched Vincent, who was sitting along the edge off one of the paths over the large cavern in the center of the city.
His prosthetic arm hung limply at his side, while his human arm wielded one of his guns. He twirled his Peacemaker from is hip holster into his hand. His arm locked suddenly and gripped the gun tighter. Then, presumable, he mentally fired at his target. He repeated the process over and over again, with inhuman speed. Each time, his target would change. This didn't startle Tifa; she had seen him doing this kind of thing before. It was nothing more than a quiet man calmly practicing his aim in the still of the night.
It wasn't necessarily his actions that had shocked Tifa to the core of her being, but it was what his actions occasionally targeted: himself. Every so often, the Peacemaker would twirl around his nimble fingers until it found it's barrel pressed against Vincent's temple.
After seeing his aim fall upon himself three more times, Tifa finally shook herself from her spot and intervened. "Vincent, what are you doing?"
"…"
"Vincent?"
"…" Another moment of silence was her answer. Tifa certainly wasn't satisfied, but she knew not to push the man too hard. If he wanted to speak, in time, he would. "I am thinking…"
"About?"
Another long silence stretched between the two. What was she doing out there anyway? Tifa knew that she could never really understand what was going on in Vincent's mind, and consequently could never help him. But it didn't hurt to try, right?
"I do not belong here…"
If Vincent had been looking at her face, he would have seen the confusion in her eyes. And, even though he wasn't, he could sense it around her. "I do not belong in a holy place like this. This is a city for a lost race that saved this world once…"
As he paused, Vincent's eyes wandered down to the Peacemaker still clutched in his human hand. Before speaking again, his eyes shifted over to his metallic claw. "Humans are the descendants of the Cetra. They belong here, where their ancestors thrived. I am the descendant… no, the embodiment of Chaos. I should not be here."
Tifa wasn't exactly shocked that Vincent was opening up to her. It wasn't the first time she couldn't sleep and stumbled upon her dark friend. Usually, something was bothering her, and Vincent was the best listener she could ask for. Rarely was she graced by the presence of his deeper thoughts, but it happened occasionally nonetheless.
"Vincent, now none of us are descendants of anyone. We're all just lost and confused people. We're all lost and confused friends of Aeris. She needs us now Vincent, and that why all of us, including you, should be here."
Tifa was a bit proud of herself – that had come out a lot better than she thought it would, seeing how she was speaking only from what was in her heart. Maybe she should do that more often. But, as she expected, Vincent wasn't impressed. "I am a friend of no one…"
With that said, he walked back to his room, gun re-holstered, without looking back at her. Tifa let out a sigh of defeat. "Oh well," she said aloud. Chaos – a monster. He honestly thinks he is a monster. But am I really so different than him.
Then, the question came to her. What did it take to be a monster? Vincent thought he was a monster for other things, not because of Chaos. I've killed before. Am I really so different?
A/N: Yeah I had a little trouble with FF.net. This is the re-written version of the original. I hope I made it pretty much the same.