Flirting with Death, Chapter 12:
Crash and Burn
By Darknightdestiny
Upstairs in the bedroom, Vincent lay reclined on the soft bed, leafing through the book he had found. Every once in a while, his eyes would happen upon the face of someone he recognized, even if they hadn't worked in his department. He felt like an outsider, even though it had been no time at all in his eyes, when he looked at the pages of the old collection. One realization hit him like a ton of bricks…
They had all gone long before him.
He really was looking at his old associates through the eyes of an outsider; they would be well aged by now, and have other matters to attend to, lives of their own. With the fall of ShinRa, they would all have returned to their families, ready to lead peaceful lives. Most of the members of his own "department" were probably dead long before that, but the others…they had families, and children of their own. And grandchildren…
Just over his usual morning ritual of shame and cleansing, as if it were no big deal whatsoever, Vincent unconsciously fell back into a quiet lamenting stage as he tortured himself over and over again with thoughts of what could have been. He wondered what kind of a life he would have had if he had been able to live along with the rest of them. Ripped from his own time, and lost in the flow of another, unfamiliarity had taken its toll on Vincent, and he always drifted back to these musings of his, no matter how often he told himself that he was used to this new world.
Just what would have happened? If he hadn't…if she hadn't…
No. He couldn't let his thoughts travel down those paths anymore. Commenting on an inflation rate that was unheard of, or inwardly sneering at the ridiculous turns the popular fashion trends had taken- that was one thing. But to constantly think on something that hurt so much, drilled at his insides…and knowing that it could never be changed, could never be made right somehow…was too much. He could never turn back the hands of time. But for some reason, he just could not pull himself away.
'Maybe I do need her help,' he grimaced at the irony of his situation, 'or someone's…'
He flipped to his own picture, not caring how the sight might affect him. He quickly found himself staring at the image, overcome with a strange sense of awe; this was the kind of awe that some people experience when they come across old video tapes or writings that they may have created when they were children- where some people are delighted and amazed at their younger selves, unsure how they could have ever been so small, some people are embarrassed or completely disinterested altogether with the image of their former self. What Vincent felt was an unsettling combination of the two.
Now, Vincent's embarrassment was not the kind of embarrassment that an older child feels when his parents feel the need to show off pictures of himself in diapers or whatnot. Vincent's embarrassment was quite different, one more of shame than anything else, the picture conjuring up most unpleasant feelings, whether they were emotional or physical. He felt a sense of loss when he looked at a healthier version of himself, a version that had a purpose in life, even though it hadn't been an honorable one. But he also felt the pungent taste of bile rise up into the back of his mouth when he thought of all the lives that had become nothing but vapor by his hands.
Looking into his deep brown eyes, almost black with sin, he found no answer. No answer to why he had done the things that he had done, or why he had ceased to feel remorse for any of them until he had been forced to pay a terrible price. He titled his head just so, finding his reflection in the mirror that hung on the side wall. When he looked into the mirror now, a pair of blood red irises stared back at him, alien to him. They were his, but yet…they were not his own. They had been given to him, forced on him. The eyes of a monster…
But even now, looking into the eyes of a blood-thirsty beast, he saw himself, or what he thought to be himself; he saw his inner demons, and he saw his torment. And all of this was more of a comfort to him than looking at his former picture, no matter how much it disgusted him. Because when he looked into the eyes of the former Vincent, also a killer, he saw something far more disturbing. He saw…nothing.
'Am I even worth saving? Is that true remorse at all, if I could not even feel it until I had to pay for my sins, feel the pain to understand it? Are my only regrets that I had to suffer for the pain I caused?'
He knew that his sins had been many and horrible. And yet…he had known back then, too; he still had done nothing to stop himself. And though he had known that what he was doing was wrong, he continued to do so until he could feel no more. Eventually, he possessed the knowledge of right and wrong without any of the troublesome burdens of that small voice known by many as a conscience.
'What would possess a girl as kind-hearted as she to keep something so horrifying and terrible this close to her bed, the place nearest the gates to her dreams?'
He was startled from his thoughts when a sudden knock at the door sounded round the room, penetrating the walls of his privacy. The earlier, constant silence paired with the unexpected noise proved that the room had never seemed so empty.
He looked down at the book sitting loosely in his hands, and his fingers tensed and brought it to a close; he shoved the book back underneath the pillow where he found it.
"…You may enter."
The door swung open and Tifa walked into the room, her face glowing. Her early morning conversation and hearty breakfast had left her rejuvenated; she felt much livelier than she had in a long time, something that living alone had deprived her of, no matter how much pride the returned independence had given her. Maybe all she had needed was to get in touch with some old friends.
"Hey," she started, "you all ready to go?"
He nodded.
"Cid's moved all our stuff out to the Bronco, though you might want to check and make sure you didn't leave anything behind. All that's left is us."
He stood.
"Are you ready to go?"
He nodded.
"Alright, then."
Tifa exited the room, thinking to herself how Vincent seemed even more mechanical than usual, while Vincent just stared after her, wondering how she could have just left something like that unattended. 'She must have truly forgotten,' he thought. 'Careless… amazing that she has lasted so long on her own.' There was only one thing left to do. He yanked the book from underneath the pillow, placing it within the folds of his cloak, then followed Tifa down the stairs. 'Why the sudden curiosity towards a demon's past? So many questions…'
Sitting in the cockpit of the Tiny Bronco, Tifa realized just how small the little town looked from high up in the sky. She had seen this before when she had been on the Highwind with the rest of them, but she had never really thought about it in that way before; now that she thought about it, she did understand what Cid had meant about the world seeming so small in the grand scheme of things, and now she could relate to it, see it through his eyes.
Why these things had come to her mind on that random day in the slums, she wasn't sure. Maybe it was the right combination of time spent in restlessness, the perfect number of whiny drunkards, and the last straw when it came to cleanup after bar fights, which usually ended up in one of the participants losing their liquor all over the floor. Tifa made a face at the thought of another day stooped down on the floor of the bar, cleaning up someone else's vomit. She wasn't always the one who had to do it, but if she was in the bar, she would never, ever make Jolene do it. That was part of Tifa's kindness…no matter how bad the job, she'd never make someone else do something that she could handle better.
As disgusting as it sounded, that may not have been the reason for leaving, either. She had no aim in her travels, except to "find herself," which was going to be a feat in itself, seeing as she didn't even know where to begin. Come to think of it, she didn't even know what she meant by it. Maybe she just hadn't wanted to be alone anymore. True, she had Will and Jolene back at the bar to help her out, but that was different. She had just wanted some familiar face, someone that she had known for much longer, someone who she knew she could trust with anything, even her innermost thoughts.
Here, she had met up with Cid and Shera, and all of her uneasiness went away in the blink of an eye. She felt at her best when she was with her friends, and she knew that if she could just keep that up, then maybe she would be able to find what it was that was missing in her life. She knew now that she was glad she wasn't going to have to find out on her own; even though Vincent had never seemed the social type, he was still with her, and it was better than no company at all, waiting alone with some unspoken expectation for something she wasn't sure would ever come, or in what form it would present itself.
She decided then and there that she felt like an old monk, or a pilgrim, on some spiritual journey, unsure of where it would lead her. True, she had no direction, but what did that matter when she was unsure of her destination all together? She looked over at Vincent, who was staring out the passenger side window. He looked so deep in thought; 'Probably brooding again,' she thought to herself. 'Why does he beat himself up all the time?'
"Is something troubling you?"
She was a bit startled that he had been the one to speak to her, but nevertheless, he deserved an answer. "What makes you think so?"
"You made a face…"
"A face?"
"It was only a minute ago.
"Oh?" There was a long pause, and Tifa had thought maybe she had been playing dumb for too long, and that he had lost interest in talking altogether. Finally, he spoke again, bringing an end to her uncertainty.
"You…scrunched your nose up. In that way…" he replied, his eyes still gazing out the window.
Tifa's eyes searched his side of the cockpit for some telltale object like a mirror or anything that would give her away without him having to budge an inch, but she could not find any. She gave up on that idea, and decided she would continue the conversation. After all, it was not a common occurrence to be able to get Vincent to speak without being asked a question first. Truth be told, she was surprised he had noticed that little unique trait of hers.
"I was just thinking," she said.
"…What were you thinking about, if you don't mind my asking?" He wasn't good with conversation, but he was going to try, if not for himself, then at least for her.
"Hm?" she was slightly distracted by a quick rush of air currents beside her, and she turned her attention back to the controls, maneuvering through the various shifts in the air.
"…When is it that you learned how to pilot a craft?"
"Oh," she answered, "I used to sit up front all the time with Cloud, and I would watch him when he worked with it. I eventually was able to figure out how to do it myself, it's really not that hard."
'Very good with that mask, indeed,' he thought. Another question dawned on him, a very important question to be exact, but there was something else he wanted to finish before going on to that. It would do no good to make Tifa lose all her nerves before he was even done asking everything he felt he needed to know in order to help her out. He would have to break this down slowly, if he wanted to do it right.
"Again, if you don't mind my asking…"
"Huh? Oh! Right, right. I was thinking…about home. You know, the things I did while I was there, stuff I did to keep myself busy."
'And her mind off of what's really bothering her…'
"What sort of things did you do…?"
"Well, I worked in the bar…didn't I tell you about this yesterday?"
"You did."
"Oh."
"I had thought…" he hesitated, "that perhaps since we had not talked about it to a great extent…"
"…You want to hear what I do?"
"…"
"Vincent?"
He looked into her eyes. She seemed to want to tell him; even if he had said no right then and there, she wouldn't have been able to hold back now that he'd asked. She just wanted someone to listen to her.
"…Tell me."
"Fine, I will. I thought owning the bar would be a dream come true, you know? Because I had really missed my old Seventh Heaven before it got trashed, and it's what I know, so I can make a pretty good living off of it."
He nodded.
"But it's a lot of work. I mean, it always was, but after being away from it for so long, I just don't get the same kind of satisfaction from working that kind of a job anymore. After being with AVALANCHE…" her voice trailed off, then started back up again. "Vincent, there's something…" she blushed, "ah…there's something 'wild' about a job as a female bartender. No, I don't appreciate the kind of attention it brings, believe me, there are a lot of 'compliments' I wish I didn't get. But when you're a young girl in the slums, there aren't that many great opportunities. Barmaid…was actually a testament to my 'tough girl' status, you know? Does that make sense?"
He nodded once more; she didn't think he could possibly understand where she was coming from, but he was acting like he did, so she continued.
"After joining AVALANCHE, I didn't really need that so much, because I knew where I belonged, and I didn't have to prove myself to anyone. So the bar became more of a 'cover' for our operations than an actual business. There hadn't been much business going on there anyways. But now that that's all over…" She looked up at him, disappointed with herself. "It's all I know."
"…I see."
She set her eyes ahead. "Anyways, for three months I've been serving the people of Neo-Midgar their drinks, and it hasn't been all that bad, but…I just wish I knew more than that kind of life. I don't want to just serve drinks for the rest of my days. I'm still young- I want to get out and see the world."
He smirked beneath the crimson fabric. "But you have seen the world…"
"I'd like to have the time to just stop and enjoy it for once. You understand me, though, right? Life's too precious to waste sitting around, not doing anything worthwhile. Sure, I can make money as a barmaid, but am I really helping anyone? No, I'm not. More often than not, the people who come to my place to forget their problems leave feeling more miserable than they did when they walked in, and when they wake up the next morning, all of their problems are still waiting for them, plus a great big hangover. Me, I just want to relax for once, and be happy."
"That is an interesting goal…"
'I suppose if anyone deserves to be happy, it would be Tifa," he thought to himself. "She has been through so much in her life, and no one pays her a bit of thanks for all she does for them; she has always tried to get rid of her pain by helping others forget their own. But all she has accomplished has been to push it further down inside herself…'
"It's good enough for me," she said, "at least for now."
"…May I ask another question of you?"
"Go for it."
"…Why Midgar?"
For a minute, it seemed like she wasn't going to answer, and Vincent started to question himself; that may have not been a wise move. Perhaps she had reservations about the city, or certain reasons she had for being there that she did not want revealed. Then she replied very casually, as if she shrugging the question straight off of her shoulders, though she gave him a satisfactory answer.
"…It's home to me."
Vincent seemed satisfied with this answer and returned his gaze to the window, to the blue expanse lying beneath them. Still facing the horizon, he ventured one more question, this one being his last for the trip as they were quickly approaching Wutai.
"Tifa…"
"Yes?"
"I have one only one more question for you…"
"What is it?"
"…You had learned how to drive the Bronco by watching Cloud…"
"Yes."
"But Cloud was always the one driving the craft…"
"Right."
"So…when did you learn how to land the plane?"
"Uh…."
"…Tifa?"
Tifa looked at Vincent apologetically, her face giving the clear impression that a resounding "Whupps," was dancing on the tip of her tongue, then began to circle the area, looking for a grassy field or a cluster of trees in which to make an emergency landing.
(A/N): Sorry it took so long for me to get this up! Sept. 13 was my birthday, hooray! ::Does the birthday dance:: I am now a legal adult! Whoop! And…joy of joys, my friend Kyle actually found me an existing, working copy of Ehrgeiz! Yahoo! I beat the game in about twelve minutes with Tifa, just so I could unlock Vincent. Later in the night, a group effort made Sephiroth the champ..and then there was a cool video o.0
I realized I made it seem like Tifa did something stupid again, but she's just excited about her trip, and she's only human! Besides, this thing was getting much too serious for its own good, even though there's no comedy in the genre listing.
