A/N: Well, I think I have a friend! Thanks, Ducky, for the second review. I'll try not to disappoint you. And a new person, Silver! Thanks for the review, you guys make my day.

Finally, the action will pick up a bit. Now, the real work starts. Just to warn you, I tend to go off on a medical tangent, so if I go too far and you don't understand, just tell me, okay? I'll test it on my sister Jill, but she's been around me so long, she's become immune. As always, Samsam owns nothing. Except a pissy computer, and that's debatable on the cat's ownership. And for the record, all the "hang-ups" have happened to me.

Chapter 4

Housecleaning Hang-ups

Red swung a heavy paw at the front door of the Mansion, opening it. Peering around Cid—he insisted on going first, since they weren't absolutely sure that all the "guests" were gone—Diane got her first look at the Mansion since it had been abandoned.

Diane didn't believe in paranormal anything. Horoscopes were just something amusing in the paper, and psychics were just lucky guessers. But this place made her want to change her mind.

"Wretched" didn't even come close to describing the place. The few spots that had been cleaned only seemed to enhance the misery and gloom of the place. The air itself was musty and dank, smelling faintly of rot and blood, both fresh and old. The feel of despair permeated the oppressive darkness, a feeling that made the hair on the back of her neck rise.

"My God…" she whispered, appalled. Automatically, she stepped over the threshold, letting the full feel of the place hit her. Grief, so strong she could almost reach out and touch it.

Vincent was thankful for the high-collared cloak, as it hid his grimace of pain as a wave of powerful memories hit him. This place… it had all started here. Every bit of pain and suffering, it all had its roots here. This miserable place, forced away from the companionship his fellow Turks had given, everything he'd valued stripped away, immeasurable anguish—both physical and mental, the guilt he'd been forced to endure, and finally, the emptiness, the realization that he was a monster, that Hojo had been right all along.

His thoughts were interrupted by Diane's all too perceptive gaze. She was used to reading people, he realized, and that included him now. He regretted the flash of his eyes that must have betrayed him.

She sees us, you know,

That damn voice. It wasn't yet strong enough to manifest physically, like the others, but it wasn't the smartest demon for nothing.

Shut up, he told the thing. She's going to get rid of you.

If she can. We are you, Vincent… a part of the monster that you are!

He hid his reaction well this time, conscious of the eyes now on him, yanking his mind back to the present where it belonged—at least while his attention was needed.

"Well, it needs some work," Diane declared, looking around.

"Yeah, it's what they call a fixer-upper," Cid joked, joining the banter.

"Just a bit," she agreed. She stared around at the debris of time that the monsters had only added to, and heaved a sigh. "Well, let's get started."

Cid looked flabbergasted at the thankfully empty bucket she hurled at him. Fortunately, he caught it, looking utterly confused. "What the hell, Doc?"

"Rinse it out good, fill it up with clean hot water," she instructed. "And then bring it back."

"What the hell for?" he demanded.

"To mop. Or should I say, swab the deck, Captain?" she added in a too sweet voice.

Grabbing the bucket by the handle, he stalked off, muttering under his breath, "That's the wrong kind of captain, Doc… or should I call her something like…" Fortunately for him, his grumblings trailed off to nothing as he went about his task.

Vincent almost smiled, until a broom handle almost smacked him in the nose. Reflexively, he caught it, staring reproachfully at the redhead that threw it at him.

"Nuh-uh, Mr. Valentine. That doesn't work on me, remember?" She gave him a teasing, good-natured smile.

He did. Roughly thirty-five years ago, the Professors Hojo and Gast had called for him to forcibly remove a young doctor who was causing a disturbance. He had tried the glare that made ice water seem warm by comparison, the one that kept even Slim in line, but it just slid off the woman. He had wondered about her for several hours after—had he lost his touch? It was the first time in years that someone hadn't succumbed to that glare, forcing him to drag her out.

He looked at the smiling woman, thinking, even as he automatically swept the dirt into a pile. She was almost happy, on the path that she felt would lead to her redemption, and helping others. One day, he'd feel the same.

No you won't. Chaos was nagging in his mind again.

He sighed, already tired of the demon. Be silent, demon! he ordered, with more force than usual, actually stunning the beast into silence.

At that moment, there was a sloshing sound, and Cid returned, carrying the full bucket, slopping water left and right, still grumbling.

"Cid!" squealed Diane as she was soaked when he set the bucket down. "Oh you…" she growled, shaking a fist under his nose, mock-threateningly. "You did that on purpose!"

"Not really, but it worked all the same, din'it?"

"Shut up and start mopping. I'm going to dust."

The cleaning went with minimal difficulties, other than Cid sneezing so hard he lost his balance, tumbling from the chair he was standing on. Of course, he blamed it jokingly on Diane, since she was the one he was helping. Red prowled outside, finding any local wildlife that wandered in too close, and ridding the Mansion's yard of them. The trio, while taking a break at cleaning the second floor, cheered him on, calling down good-natured insults and advice. At least, Diane and Cid did, while Vincent just watched. Both thought it was a good sign that he was actually staying near them, rather than finding an isolated room to brood in.

Finally, after a few weeks, the mess was cleaned to a level that they all agreed was suitable for human habitation. "Now," Diane announced, "The real fun begins. Now we get to lug all the small stuff up here, because between you, me, and the fencepost, that place is more than a little eerie. I don't like it anymore than anyone else. I've read the requisition orders, and almost everything I'll need is the portable model, which means it will be fairly easy to transport it."

Red showed Diane the stone wall that lead to the basement, Cid not knowing where it was, and Vincent—understandably—not wanting to return there. Heading down, the little professor carefully descended the shabby stairs, keeping an eye on the long drop down. She glanced at the door on the side of the hall, realizing what would have been there if Hojo had his way. Scowling at the thought of her former coworker, she never even saw the dark shape that flew at her.

Vincent's head shot up at the sound of the scream, muted as it was by the distance. Cid grabbed his spear, never far from him in this unnatural place, forced to run after Vincent as he darted to the basement. He swore badly at the sight that greeted them both.

Diane was swatting uselessly at pair of black bats, too startled to use her materia. One had its wings wrapped over her face, drawing some of her blood in its attack.

Vincent's eyes glowed faintly at the smell of fresh blood. Not now! he ordered himself, carefully aiming at the second bat before it too could swoop in and attack.

The thunderous report of the gun gave Diane enough adrenaline to shove the bat off, watching in numb shock as Cid's fire spell cooked the beast before its corpse could smack into the wall. She jumped as she felt a hand on her neck, eyes wide, and hands coming up defensively.

"Shit, Doc, calm down!" Cid reassured her, examining the bite. "It's just me, okay?"

Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Diane nodded. "I'm sorry, Cid… it just…"

"Hey, it's alright. You'll need to clean that, but you should be okay. Little fuckers aren't big enough to do any real damage."

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'm alright. Let's get that stuff and get the hell out of here. No more adventures for me today."

"I couldn't agree more," Vincent said in a firm voice.

A/N: Well, here we get a look inside Vincent's head. Goddess, does he always have to be so stubborn about letting me, his writer, see into his head? Oh well. He'll open up sooner or later. Once you get in there, it's absolutely fascinating. And look, he's getting protective! And talking! Oh, for explanation, Vincent doesn't yet have the Chaos limit break, but that'll be explained by the Doc. Also a few other things Dennelle and I dreamed up. Yes, I am teasing you. So, other than the tease, anything bothering anybody? Something blatantly missing, something you'd like to see more/less of? Tell me, and I'll see what I can do.