Note: Here's a long chapter for those that asked for it.
I don't want to die…
No…I'm so… so cold…
…numb…
Vincent mumbled in his sleep, lost in a torrent of nightmares that were far more horrible than ever.
I'm dying…! Someone… help…
I'm cold… freezing… it's so cold…
Although he tried so hard, Vincent couldn't wake up this time. A whisper escaped his lips but it was inaudible.
"It's okay… I'm still here, Vincent," came her voice, distant yet soothing.
Don't let me die…
Darkness… all around…
Tifa sat on the edge of the bed upstairs, watching over Vincent as he mumbled in his sleep. She had never seen such sadness before in her life, she just couldn't comprehend. His face was etched with that sadness as he slept on.
She had done her best to half carry, half drag Vincent back up the stairs and put him into bed where he could rest and recover. He had just blacked out down there after running from her. Perhaps he was ill? She was deeply concerned for him now.
Bending forward, Tifa stroked her hand across his face.
"You poor thing," she murmured to herself.
Vincent stirred under the blankets but didn't wake.
Alone? Am I alone…?
Help!
"I'm so… cold," he muttered softly, still trapped in slumber.
"You're cold? You're under all the blankets," Tifa replied, confused, "But I can go look for more blankets. Would you like that?"
He didn't respond, but she didn't expect him to. And with that, Tifa strode out of the room in search of more blankets.
The seemingly abandoned mansion gave Tifa the chills. What a forlorn place… She jumped at the sound of a creak in the floor boards, sending her heart pounding. Cursing, she continued to the other rooms where she pulled a comforter off of another bed. She carried back into the room where Vincent lay and spread it over him neatly.
"Is that better?" she asked, hoping he might wake up to the sound of her voice.
He lay motionless, his breaths shallow and quiet. Tifa frowned and returned to sitting at the edge of the bed. Maybe he'd fallen into a coma, or something like it. Maybe she should call a doctor?
Tifa leaned in and stroked his face and hair gently with one hand, gazing at him with worried eyes.
Swallowed by darkness… not even hell awaits me…
Vincent cried out, squirming under the blankets. The nightmare must've turned vicious. Tifa backed away, letting him thrash in his sleep. Suddenly his claw hand grabbed her wrist and he pulled her in.
She gasped at the pain as his grip tightened, claws digging into her flesh. She knew if she tried to jerk away it would only hurt her more.
"Vincent, let go! You need to wake up," she pleaded, her face pained.
His grip tightened as her voice penetrated his nightmare. Blood seeped through the little cuts he'd made into her wrist. Tifa cried out and pried at his metal fingers to no avail.
Finally he released her and became silent.
I am dying… no one is here for me…
So cold… so dark…
Tifa pressed her hand over the tender, bleeding wounds.
"Please wake up. You're really starting to worry me!" she said loudly, frustrated with herself. She could do nothing for him like this!
Vincent's eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the dim light. Tifa held her breath as he lay there staring first at the ceiling, then across the room at the curtains hiding the window, and then finally at Tifa who sat next to him rubbing her wrist. The silence was intense as he studied her.
"You're still here…?" he asked, almost puzzled.
She nodded sympathetically.
His eyes grazed over her and he noticed the red slashes across her wrist.
"Tifa...? Did you… do that to yourself?" he asked, sitting up in bed halfway and staring at her injured arm.
She shook her head quickly and replied, "No. Vincent, you were asleep… in a nightmare or something. You grabbed on to me so suddenly…"
You hurt her!
He glanced down sadly, loathing himself.
"I'm all right. It's okay… really. I'm more worried about you," she assured him, leaning in again and touching his shoulder.
She bleeds because of you…
No! It wasn't me!
Vincent remained silent for some time. Tifa rose off the bed and across the room to peek out the curtains.
"I think it's almost early morning… the moon has set," she spoke, trying to fill in the empty silence with her rambling.
In an instant he had joined her beside the window. He moved so quietly and gracefully, Tifa was mesmerized. Without much thought, she leaned in to him and rested her head against his shoulder. He stood there, looking down as she drew in close.
"What are you doing?" he asked blankly. He arms wrapped around him in an embrace. Only he couldn't return it.
"I'm so glad you're okay. I thought you were really, really ill," she confessed, pressing into him.
"Hmmm…" he murmured, closing his eyes and secretly savoring her warmth.
"Do you feel well now?" she asked uncertainly.
"Yes," he muttered, pulling away from her finally.
What does she know of sorrow and misery?
Make her feel your agony!
Vincent blocked out the crazed voices in his mind and began to make his way towards the stairs leading down into his sanctum.
Quickly, Tifa stepped around and in front of him blocking his way.
"No, please don't go away. You'll just end up in another nightmare if you go back to sleep," she pleaded, her tough demeanor slipping away.
He saw the glint of tears forming in her dark eyes.
"I must," he answered coldly, standing before her.
Take her down… down into your darkness…
"But… we could talk. I could help," she offered, touching his arm, "I could help ease your pain."
Her words touched him and deep down he longed to give in to her wishes. Yet how could he let Tifa carry the weight of his sadness? She was young and healthy, beautiful in every way.
Take her down… down into your darkness…
Vincent slowly nodded, his hand grasping hers gently. Tifa's eyes lit up as she felt him accept.
I will… I will take her down… down into my darkness…