Disclaimer – See prologue sigh

I haven't updated for a little while. My bad. I've been so busy lately, you know, Christmas, more projects than I can even begin to count, and other family and friend things that I know you don't want me to get into. Power to all of those who still bother to read this. So without further ado, here's Chapter 3.

Veins of Glass – Lacuna Coil
And the ghosts I keep inside myself
How do they see me?
While again I'm drowning
With my soul
Will you save me?

Chapter 3 – The True Meaning of Cold
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Yuffie woke up to the sound of a loud bang. She groaned, and raised her head, her stormy eyes still blurry with sleep. Red looked over at her, tilting his head slightly, before opening the incredibly large hard cover book with his damp, jet black nose.

"What was that?" she muttered, and Red simply blinked at her, not responding for a few moments.

"I apologize, I accidentally knocked down this book from one of the higher shelves, and clearly it woke you up," he said, and looked back down to the huge mother of a book.

"Well, thanks a lot for waking me up, frigin cat," she growled sarcastically, before forcing herself onto her knees, and she rubbed her aching neck.

"Dear materia, my neck and back hurt like hell, and it feels like someone was using my head for a bongo drum," she muttered, and Vincent glanced over at her.

"I imagine that's what happens when you sleep on a cement floor," he retorted, and Yuffie rolled her eyes.

"Thanks for the observation Mr. Sunshine, wouldn't have figured that out on my own," she snapped, words oozing of even more sarcasm, and Vincent shook his head, before returning to what he was reading.

Yuffie muttered something along the lines of "Damned bloodsucking vampire--can't be pleasant for one instant--always raining on my parade."

As per usual, Vincent ignored it, though Yuffie was almost certain that he heard her, and she growled with annoyance, not getting a reaction from him. It was no fun when they didn't react to the clearly offensive words she uttered.

She returned to searching through the books, though she was very reluctant about doing it, and she prayed that they'd find something they needed, or something useful, then they could leave this god forsaken place, and that would be the end of her being grouped with the big cat, and the happiest man on the planet (oh, feel the sarcasm).

She nailed another book across the room, missing Red head by half an inch, and he sent her a death glare, though her response was to laugh her ass off. Red gave a faint growl, before returning to what he was doing. Vincent hadn't even acknowledged that it had happened, though he had certainly heard the commotion.

The ninja pulled out another thick book from the top shelf, which caused a smaller, but even thicker book to come tumbling down and hit her square on the head. There was a wild string of curses, and she had to use every inch of willpower she had not to kick it across the room.

"Stupid thing," she snapped, and sat down, dropping the other book, and picking up the one that had fallen on her head.

The covers were a rich shade of amethyst, and they were taped to the book, the old scotch tape being the only thing that was holding it all together. She flipped open the first page, uncaring that the old scotch tape was beginning to rip under the abrupt movements.

On the first page was a name, Hojo, as well as various childish doodles surrounding it. She flipped the page. No wonder it was so old, the first entry was on his seventh birthday. She flipped to half the book, and it was well into his scientific years. She began to skim his entries with interest, briefly wondering why she was finding this so interesting. She mentally wondered if Vincent would be in there, and if he was, was there any good blackmail material?

She saw a familiar name, one that triggered a sudden anger in her. Lucrecia. Stupid wench, it was her fault Vincent was the way he was. Maybe he was actually happy at some point, well, not anymore. Honestly, she didn't understand why Vincent didn't hate her, heck, she would have hated her. Who could love someone like that?

……Lucrecia came with me to the little party. She was beautiful, with her hair done up stunningly, and her dress, ah, her dress. Fantastic. She'll be perfect for my plans, just astounding. It'll be all in the best interest for Science. Everything for Science, but I mustn't rush the process, oh no, everything must be just right, or it might go south. That's the last thing anyone needs.

Anyhow, on the topic of the party, I should probably mention that I met someone rather interesting. Rather insane, but rather interesting to say the least. I think it was Hector, no, Victor Morales. He's a scientist, somewhat, but he's insane. He was rambling about his plans about Lifestream, and the changes that could happen with his plan. Changing the Lifestream could change the planet, or some mumbo jumbo like that. If he honestly believes there's a way to change the Lifestream to suit his purposes, to be in control of everything, well, he's a complete idiot. Finding the Promised Lands is one thing, but controlling the Lifestream, and everything connected to it, well, he really is insane……

Yuffie's eyes nearly fell out of her skull. What luck, what frigin luck. She was glad that Lucrecia's name caught her interest, amen to that, though it hardly changed the fact that the woman was a stupid, good for nothing wench. And she was probably ugly.

"Vincent?" she asked, glancing over at the man, ebon hair tumbling into his porcelain coloured face.

He looked over at her, "Yes?"

"Who was Victor Morales?" she asked, and he was silent for a moment.

"I'm not sure, why do you ask?" he asked, and she grinned at him, only bewildering both him and Red, who had looked over at her.

"Well, it seems your old friend Hojo knew him, called him insane--oh, the irony--and said he wanted to control Lifestream or something like that. He said that the guy told him that he had plans to change the Lifestream to suit him, and that changing the Lifestream would do a lot of things, or whatever. You know it's bad when Hojo calls him insane," she explained, shaking the book in her hand.

Vincent let his book fall to the ground, and he walked over to Yuffie, taking to book in his claw, and reading the page. She noticed his jaw clench, and she knew that he had seen Lucrecia's name. She rolled her eyes, figures, after all this time he still had the hots for the dead nut job.

"Do you think that's what we're looking for?" asked Red, and Vincent nodded his head softly, not even bothering to look at the large, fiery beast.

"Yes, I think it is. We've been through nearly everything here, and this is the only piece of information that we've found that seems to be remotely like what's happening, though it still doesn't explain what's happening with the people," he stated, and glanced at both their faces.

"Oh god, it's the only shot we have, and sitting in this place hour after hour is hell," she said, her voice taking on a whine that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

"I suppose, we'd better get going. We'll use your PHS on the way back to the Kalm," said Vincent, handing the journal back to Yuffie, who handed him her PHS, which miraculously, was all in once piece, and ready to use. Figure that.

The trio made their way back to the mansion's lobby, Yuffie tucking the journal into her back pocket of her slightly oversized beige shorts. She gripped onto her conformer, feeling the coolness invade the warmth of her hand, and she waited for Vincent to open the front door.

He opened the door, but they were all taken by surprise. It was snowing, and hard, in fact, it was nearly a damned blizzard. Wind raged into the house, and ran against Yuffie, they were like pins and needles burrowing themselves into her tanned flesh.

"Holy mother of all materia, why's it snowing? It's not winter yet. I hate the damned cold. I hate it, I hate it," she said, stepping back from the door.

"Hmm," was Vincent's reply, and he flipped open Yuffie's PHS.

He held it up to his ear, and waited, only to find that there was no connection. He held it out in front of him, and there, in big red letters read, 'No Signal.'

"What? What's going on?" she asked, and Vincent glanced over at her.

"There's no signal, the clouds are too thick, and there's too much snow," he replied, flipping it closed, and placing it gently in his obsidian pocket.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, rubbing her goose bump filled arms violently, trying to warm herself up.

She was never one for winter, sure she didn't mine the snow and all, but no, no, the cold just didn't work for her. She was a summer girl, a girl who grew up in Wutai, where it was always hot. Yes, the heat always worked well for her, not the cold, never the cold.

"We have no choice we have to go through this. We don't have much time left, and from what I've gathered the planet is getting worst as time passes. We can't waste time because of snow," stated Red, and Vincent nodded softly in agreement.

"Easy for you both to say, Red's got a fur coat, and his tail is on fire, and Vincent is immune to the elements, and dressed from the neck, down," she growled, rubbing the back of her neck.

"You should have been more prepared, and not have worn shorts and a sleeveless top," stated Vincent.

"Yeah, right, thanks for the information, but I didn't expect it to be snowing at the end of summer. Honestly, I hope that the planet stops snowing, and becomes extremely hot, to the point where you could cook an egg on the pavement, and we'll see who's laughing then," she snapped, eyes filled with venom.

"Sounds good, and until then, it won't be me who's uncomfortable," muttered Vincent, and if Yuffie didn't know any better, she'd have thought he was taking some sort of sick pleasure out of this.

"Whatever. You should know, I really dislike you right now," she snapped, knowing how childish it was of her, but doing it anyway, and had Vincent had it in him, he would have rolled his eyes.

"Big loss," he retorted sarcastically, and Yuffie was taken but surprise, feeling suddenly very hurt.

She hadn't really meant it when she said that she disliked him, but it was clear that he really did dislike her. Pain scratched at her, jolting up her spine, winding around her body. It hurt to hear him say the words, someone that she had come to like, despite how mean she was to him, now and then, well, usually.

They excited the house, Yuffie trailing behind them, and not bothering to close the gap. The chocobos were in the stable, warking uneasily as they realised something was wrong. They shook their feathers, letting the excess snow that had managed to get into them, fall to the snow filled ground silently.

They mounted their chocobos, and were on their way. The snow was already deep, deep enough to slow down the chocobos, and the snow was becoming worst, it was almost blinding. The cold caused Yuffie to shiver like a fiend, and once in a while, she would resort to using her cure materia on herself, despite how she wasn't hurt, just to get that warm feeling that she bathed in when used.

She could feel her energy draining, and figured it was best to keep it for emergencies. The ninja glanced around her, and could barely see her companions riding beside her. Aside from their faint images, all she could see was white, and occasionally some grey that peaked through the curtain of forbidding falling snow.

Vincent glanced over at her, noting that she hadn't spoken once since he had spoke, and he wondered why. Maybe his sarcastic retort had been too harsh, maybe. He shook his head, he'd fix it later, but after this matter was resolved. At that moment, it seemed that getting out of the snow storm was more important than patching up a little bump in their half-assed friendship. It probably wouldn't be good if Red or Yuffie got hypothermia.

He could feel his chocobo's uneasiness increase, and so did the confusion. If they were lost, he would be rather annoyed. That's just what they needed, to get lost in a snowstorm with an angry ninja, who'd probably freeze to death, and a giant cat, who, again, would probably freeze to death. Not that he was pessimistic or anything.

Both chocobos began to wark insanely, something was spooking them, and Vincent couldn't help but mentally curse. Another thing they needed, creatures out to get them. Again, very lovely. Honestly, was there anyone who had worst luck than him?

The wind picked up intensely, and both birds came to especially deep snow pile, they both bucked upward repeatedly, making it impossible for their masters to stay on, and the trio were all thrown off.

Red landed in the snow, and watched as the two birds ran like bats out of hell, disappearing from view. He growled, and raised himself onto his feet, ignoring the cold sensation that picked at his paws. He looked around for quite some time, taking in the layout, hoping for signs of any form of life.

He sat there for at least a good five minutes, that is, until he caught sight of something in the snow. Flesh, beige and jade clothes, and raven hair. It was the ninja, lying on her stomach, face pressed into the glittering perfection of the snow.

He forced his way through the snow, and rolled Yuffie onto her back. She was shivering uncontrollably, body covered in snow, and lips were pale. He was completely surprised at how quickly the cold had affected her, but then again, it was probably much colder than it was to him, and she was more susceptible to it.

She opened her stormy eyes drowsily, and forced herself onto her butt. She sat, slouched over, and shivering so hard that it looked like she was going to pass out. He twisted his flamed tail towards her, though it made little difference in contrast to the cold that collided against her.

"Yuffie, you have to stand up," he said, though it was more a demand.

She tried to do as he said, and attempted to push herself upward, but she fell back down almost immediately, sitting back onto the ground, which was kissed with glittering snow. She tried again, and again, but never made any progress. She was shivering too hard, she was too cold, and despite how strong she was, she was no match against the winter cold that was weaving viciously around them.

"I can't do it, I can't stand up," she replied, hair falling into face.

"You have to Yuffie, this isn't an option. You have to, or you will almost surely die. You can't live just sitting in the snow, your temperature is already dropped at an extreme rate, you can't let it drop any further," he said, and rubbed against her, attempting to make her get up.

"I've tried! I can't get up," she shrieked, then an idea came to her.

"C-Cure," she shouted, and she was surrounded by a green glow, and a slight warmth.

Unfortunately, the warmth did little this time. The warmth was immediately stolen by the cool snow a split second after it had been cast. It was useless, all it did was waste energy.

She wouldn't give up, she couldn't. She was too young to die. She tried to get up, using all her energy, and she did stand, sort of, but only for a second or so, for her frozen legs gave in, and she was on the ground once more.

"Red, I can't die here, I can't," she whispered, and the beast looked at her, his eyes filled with such worry, and she was scared.

She was terrified that she would die. Her corpse would be frozen, and the snow would bury her, creating a frozen, form-fitting casket for her lifeless shell. Her eyes would be open, frozen in place, and glazed over with eyes, her tears frozen solid. She was going to die here, in this snowy terrain of hell.

"Vincent!" he shouted, it had been the first time she had ever heard him shout, ever raise her voice, and she had to admit, it sounded very strange. Had she not been terrified for her life, she might have laughed.

A figure came into full view, and she realised it then, it was Vincent. The man looked down at her, not even hesitating, before picking her up, bridal style. He watched her, observed her face, her lips were tinged with blue, her face was so white, ghostly. She was freezing. For god's sake, what was she thinking when she picked her wardrobe?

"You'll be fine Yuffie, I give you my word, you will be fine," he said, and never had she heard such concern in the man's voice. Heck, never had she heard any emotion in his voice.

He unhitched his cloak, and bundled her in it, noting how her shivering came to a cease almost immediately, the body warmth he had been producing still remaining on the material, and it had encircled her when he had wrapped her in it. She looked drowsy, and she curled up in the sudden warmth, and he held her closely, forbidding her to fade away from him. The last thing he needed was another sin added onto his already impossibly long list. She leaned her head against his chest, and pulled the crimson cloak even closer around her tiny form.

He began moving, Red trailing behind them, hoping that they found someplace, anyplace to stay, to escape from the cold. It was a stupid decision to lead them out into the snow storm, especially when for a normal human, such as Yuffie, it was so dangerous.

Some time passed, and if anything the storm intensified. Occasionally, Vincent would look to the fiery beast that was trailing at their side, and he would appear to be going on strong. Red would never complain, never utter a word of discomfort, or pain, but Vincent knew he felt it. Red wasn't adapted to such a cold climate, after all, he had grown up in Cosmo Canyon, a generally warm place.

He looked down at the ninja, who lay nestled in his arms, her eyes closed, and oblivious to the world, and the freezing cold. It wasn't long after that she began to break free of the blissful oblivion.

"Vincent?" she whispered, drowsy eyes looking up into his face.

As per usual, he didn't respond, he simply glanced down at her, to acknowledge that he was remotely playing attention. She was silent, for a moment or so, as she studied his face, and as she studied his face, Vincent grew increasingly more uncomfortable, though he attempted to ignore the plaguing emotion.

"You don't like me, do you?" she asked, her voice so quiet, that he almost had trouble hearing her utter her question.

There was a long pause, as if Vincent had seriously begun to consider if he hated her or not. She continued to watch him, awaiting his response. Her stormy gaze never wavered, and she wasn't going to look away until he answered her question.

"Need I remind you that you're the one who said you disliked me first?" he finally retorted, and she shrugged her bony shoulders.

"Yeah, but I didn't mean that," she stated, and he cocked an eyebrow.

"Who's to say I meant what I said?" he asked, and Yuffie snickered.

"Because you obviously never joke around, or say things you don't mean. You're Vincent, the destroyer of all that is fun, and the king of angst," she said, eyes still fixed intently upon his pale, sun deprived features.

Vincent shook his head, and his crimson eyes softened, only for a moment or so, before the slight shift in emotions faded away as quickly as it had come.

"Quite the titles. No, Yuffie, I don't dislike you in the least. I suppose even like you to a certain extent, but if you want the truth, you irritate me quite a bit," he explained, and Yuffie's jaw almost fell.

He looked down at her questioningly.

"Holy mother of all that is good, did you know that we just sort of had a conversation? Heck, you actually let out a sentence that was longer than two words, and wasn't about something scientific, or orders, or whatnot," she said, a smile staining her lips.

"I could always stop talking completely, if you'd prefer," he shot coolly, and Yuffie shook her head rapidly, hair hitting Vincent in the chest.

"No, no, I like it better when you actually talk. Jeez, I'm having quite the effect on you, eh?" she said, with an arrogant grin.

He sighed, and knew that it was going to be a very long, long trip. His only consolation was that civilization couldn't be too far away, or at least, he hoped not. He may not hate Yuffie, but he sometimes wanted to take Death Penalty, and simply shoot her, just to shut her up. Not the most pleasant of thoughts, but what else would you expect? He rarely talked, and she never shut up.

"Wow, it's cold, freakishly cold, mother of all coldness," she said, stating the obvious, and Vincent shook his head slightly.

"Yes, Yuffie, it's cold," he agree, exasperated already.

"No, not just a little cold, really fucking cold," she said, squirming atop his arms.

"I see you've learned some colourful words from Cid," he replied dryly, and she grinned mischievously, wrapping the cloak tighter around her tiny figure.

There was a long pause, and all that could be heard was the whistling of the harsh wind, and their footsteps breaking through the thick piles of snow. It was getting deeper, much to Vincent's displeasure, and soon it would nearly be impossible for Red to walk through. They had to find shelter.

"Yuffie, I think you're well enough to walk on your own," said Vincent, and Yuffie grasped hold of his shirt, shaking her head wildly.

"Oh, I'm not, gosh, I'm really tired. So tired, I can feel myself drifting to sleep right now. So tired," and she collapsed in his arms, eyes shut tightly, and a forced serious expression on her face, obviously trying to keep off the smile.

He shook his head, and sighed.

"I know you're not asleep, Yuffie. That was a very pitiful attempt," he muttered, and he noticed her bite something in her mouth, likely her tongue, to keep her from breaking out into laughter.

Why wasn't he surprised?

He had half the mind to drop her into the snow, but that was likely to get them back into the same boat that they started in. Perfect, just perfect. He really did have the worst luck in the world.

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Cid slammed his fist into the airship's floor as he moved the instrument over the frozen pipes and wires. It was snowing like hell, and pretty well the whole airship was frozen solid. Unless he got them to thaw, they couldn't repair anything.

"This is fuckin' takin' forever, who uses a blow-dryer to thaw anything?" muttered Barret, standing behind Cid, "I say we jus' use a low power Fire. It would work wonders, wonders!"

Cid rolled his eyes and twisted his head to look at the big black man as if he were the biggest idiot on the planet. He continued to use the hot pink hairdryer to thaw the ice, moving it slowly across the frozen equipment.

"Oh, that makes perfect damned sense. Electricity, gas, and Fire magic. Sounds like a great fuckin' combination. You idiot, we'll explode," he growled, irritated beyond recognition.

"It was a jus' a suggestion, and it wasn' that bad either," he retorted, crossing his thick arms across his chest, or at least, he tried to.

"Oh yes, great frigin suggestion. Maybe if the heating goes out, we can set ourselves on fuckin' fire because hey, at least we'd be warm. Now, isn't that a nice damned suggestion?" snapped Cid, running a hand through his blond hair.

Barret rolled his eyes, and stepped back a few feet, realising Cid was in one of those moods. Probably because of lack of Nicotine. It was moments like those where Barret wished he'd just break his promise to Shera and smoke ten packets of smokes, at least then he'd be in a semi-pleasant mood.

Barret's felt his feet get caught in the cerulean wire, but before he could even think to untangle himself, he pulled on the wire too hard, and out came the plug, and the power came to a cease. There was a long, long string of colourful curses that echoed through that ship and made Barret blush with embarrassment. Maybe that moment wasn't the best time for him to be alive…

"What the hell!?" he screamed, and spun around, eyes wide with fury.

"Erm, sorry?" said Barret sheepishly, a grin forming, despite Cid's obvious look of enragement and absolute anger.

"You stupid son of a-" he was cut off by the sound of breaking glass coming from the house, and Cid froze.

"Shera," he said, and dashed out of the airship without a second thought, grasping Venus Gospel in his hand on the way out.

Barret trailed after him, and rushed into the house, back door hanging open. There in the kitchen, was Cid, weapon ready for attack, Shera standing in the corner of the room, hand instinctively on her stomach, and another, a man whom Barret didn't recognize.

The man looked just like any other, except for the crazed expression hanging in his dark brown eyes. He was hungry, desperate and completely and utterly insane. There was no true life in his eyes, only darkness, pure, unadulterated darkness, and it gleamed with maliciousness. The man was staring at Shera, watching, waiting for her, and Barret wondered if he even noticed their presence.

There was a gleam to the corner of his eye, and he noticed the dagger gripped in the man's hand. He was holding it so tightly that the man's knuckles completely white, the skin pressed so closely to them.

He slowly circled around Shera, like a hunter to his prey, and Shera pressed her back harder into the corner, as if hopping that she'd be able to fall through the wall, though, unsurprisingly, she had no luck.

"Hey, hey! You stupid piece of shit, what do you think you're doing?" shouted Cid, grip tightening on his spear.

The man didn't even glance at him, his wild eyes remained fixed on Shera's pale face, the blood had long since drained from it. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she knew that she couldn't get away, not when he was watching her so intently.

He raised the dagger above his head, preparing to attack, and he got into the position where Barret knew that he was going to charge her. Cid, by no surprise, wasn't liking this idea, and had one of his own. He broke out into a charge of his own, and collided into the man with enough force, that the man was sent flying into the wall.

Shera squeaked, and ran to Cid, grasping onto his arm, and twisting around behind him as if he were a shield. Cid glanced back at her, for a split second, to be sure that she was alright. He felt complete and utter relief when he noticed that she was perfectly fine, aside from being a bit shaken up.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed movement, and twisted his head around to find the man pushing himself up off the floor, barely even dazed. Cid backed away a few paces, before he whispered softly to Shera.

"Run."

And with that, Shera bolted out the backdoor, knowing well enough that Cid could handle himself, especially in the company of Barret.

Cid's cerulean eyes narrowed, and he readied his spear. The man had already regained his posture, and had his dagger ready. With one slick, and sudden movement, he dove at Cid, the man barely dodging it by a hare's breath. Barret, while this was going on, begun to aim his weapon. The man with the hungry eyes didn't even take notice to the big black man, and continued to attempt to harm Cid.

Cid had barely had time to regain his posture, and the man was attacking him once more. This time, Cid couldn't dodge it. The man sliced through his arm, opening a violent gash, and blood immediately began to trickle out of the wound.

Cid jabbed the spear at the man, who promptly dodged it, and smiled at Cid. His smile held no emotion. It was lifeless, dead. Cid couldn't ignore the feeling of sudden fear in his gut. The man was insane, he held no conscious, and that look in his eyes, it was enough to make even him want to run away screaming, or rather, cursing.

Barret fired the gun, and the bullet ripped through the flesh at the man's waist, tearing through his grey shirt, and breaking through his skin. The man didn't even cry out. It was as if he hadn't even felt the bullet.

The man's hungry look intensified, but he never once looked away from Cid. He went to stab Cid in the neck, but the blond man parried it with the tip of his spear. The man looked disgruntled, annoyed that his attack had been avoided once again. Another attack, and another. Cid dodged them constantly, and Barret shot more bullets, though they had little effect.

That disgruntled look had been the first bit of pure emotion that Cid had seen at all. Maybe that was a bit of a relief, maybe it was reassuring that the man was at least remotely human. If he was susceptible to emotions like a human was, than he could die like a human. Right?

The man screamed, and ran into Cid, forcing both him and Cid to the floor. Barret aimed his weapon, or tried to, though it was pretty well useless. They tussled on the ground, both Venus Gospel and the dagger had been dropped as they hit the floor. Cid drew back his fist, and punched the man in the jaw, over, and over. His hits were strong enough that the jaw cracked, but again, the man didn't so much as wince of pain.

The man twisted around so that he was on top, and reached over, grabbing the dagger, before attempting to plummet it into Cid's chest. Cid grabbed the man's hand, and tried to force it away, and they were deadlocked in a position with the man on top, trying his hardest to plunge the knife into Cid, and Cid trying to force it away.

Bullets broke the deadlock, and the man fell over, a good five or so bullet holes imprinted into the man's right temple. Cid panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and he pushed the man off him, clang of the fallen dagger echoing through the room.

He sat up, and looked around, attempting to register what had just happened. He was alive, that must have been a good sign.

"Shera?" he said in between pants, and looked to Barret, his sapphire blue eyes glazed with bewilderment.

"I dunno where she went," he replied with a sullen shrug.

Cid pushed himself up, gripping his arm tightly, ignoring the painful sensation that jolted through him. He made his way out of the house, not even bothering to bandage up his arm, or cure it.

He walked through Rocket Town, eyes roaming around freely, searching for his love. His gaze caught hold of something, and there Shera was, sitting next to the road, arms wrapped around herself tightly, and she was shivering.

Cid cautiously walked up to her, and he kneeled over, staring her straight in the face. Her dark eyes slowly travelled to his bewildered face, glasses falling to the edge of her nose. Their gazes were locked for a few moments, as if trying to memorize every inch of each other's face.

"Shera, what the hell are you doing?" he asked, though the harsh words didn't match his soft voice, which was tinted with intense worry.

She didn't answer at first, it took a few moments for the words to break passed her lips. Her face was so pale, that it was only a shade off white, and her eyes were wide with a terror that Cid had never seen before.

"It was cold, it touched me. I can still feel it. It won't go away," she said, her voice so soft that Cid had to strain to hear her.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice becoming unintentionally rough.

She blinked. "Can't you see him? He's waiting for me to let him in, or until he's strong enough to force himself inside."

"Who?"

"The man right there. Can't you see him?"

She raised her arm, her trembling finger pointing out in front of her. Cid followed her finger, and looked in that direction. His gaze flew around the area, trying to find something, anything. All he saw was thin air.

"He's still there. He's watching us."

"I don't understand," stated Cid, reaching over to touch her face.

Her flesh was cool to the touch, despite the fact how a sweat had broken out along her brow. Her eyes were staring at the area where she was pointing.

"Can't you see him?"

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There we are. I didn't particularly like this chapter, something about it bothers me, but I can't put my finger on it. Oh well. Anyhow, thanks to all who reviewed before! .

To veilinglife – Of course Cait Sith'll show up. I can't forget that furry ball of annoyance. He'll be mentioned in the next few chapters or so I imagine, and actually come into the story later I should hope : )