Facing Truth: Part 2

Incase you've forgotten, the perspective switches between Vincent and Tifa at each line break. It starts from Vincent's point of view. Read and enjoy!

The metal stairs were quite loud. Irritatingly loud, I had decided. This observation was, of course, certainly not accentuated by my already irksome mood. Damn four legged felines and their arrogant, intuitive nature. Not to forget their annoying habit of curiously sticking their nose in places they didn't belong. At the rate I was building hatred, I'd be serving overtime in hell.

I halted before the door and stared at it. Maybe I was hoping it would miraculously solidify and therefore prevent me from entering the open deck. That wasn't going to happen, nor was my conscience going to leave on vacation. No, I was here for the entire show, and I didn't even know what the hell it was about.

Something concerning...Tifa. I frowned slightly, and pondered walking away. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing to talk about, was there? So what if she was leaving a blood trail and refusing to tend to the matter? I alone had enough issues to deal with: happily accepting others was not one of my virtues.

Only, I had not budged nor flinched an inch from where my feet were now firmly planted before that door. Clearly, my logic was somehow mis-constructed, or maybe a wire in my brain had been crossed and the message just wasn't going through anymore. Or maybe I was hopelessly seeking a way out when there was none. I'd committed myself by coming this far, and I'd be damned if I quit now. Vincent Valentine did not quit.

It was the very notion of such a deplorable thing that set me back on track.

With renewed confidence, I gave the doorhandle a decisive turn and slipped outside quietly. Not that it was necessary with the engines creating a skull rattling roar that drowned out any and all sounds. It occurred to me, as the door closed behind me and the wind rushing passed threatened to throw all of my possessions in disarray, that speaking under these conditions would be difficult, if not impossible.

Hesitation and doubt began gnawing away at my resolve. If we couldn't understand each other amidst this racket, clearly there was no point in me staying.

Yet, there she was, alone and leaning tiredly against the railing with a thick, loosely bound stream of dark hair dancing behind her, and my feet would not obey. She was completely beautiful, despite the condition of her bruised body and the lines of stress along her face. Her hands tightened around the railing at something that displeased her and her chin fell with a sigh, but she didn't turn.

The picture she made struck a chord in my memory and suddenly I saw a young man in a tailored suite, his black hair cut short and his expression grieved, standing in her place. Seeing my younger self again after so long was a sobering experience. It made me realize just how similar Tifa was to the Vincent of the past, and how much she surely suffered for it.

I recognized suddenly the danger that I was putting myself into and the possible consequences, but then, risks had to be taken in life, and this one was worth it, if only for her sake. As someone who would understand her and could give advice, I felt it my duty to help. She had certainly earned that much.

Tifa was looking down at her hands again as I walked up behind her. Just the sight of the damage was painful. There were unshed tears in her eyes as she studied the ghastly tissue with an odd sort of fascination. Her face creased in sorrow and then she looked up at me, as if she'd known all along that I was there. "Do you think me awful?"

Well, so much for not being able to understand her.

"Never." I answered and gently grasped her hands, palms up. She had to be in a moderate amount of pain, judging by the extent of her injuries. Without hesitation I cast the spell that was waiting at my finger tips and watched with relief as her injuries healed and the lines of pain disappeared from her face. Now there was only grief and confusion.

"You bear too much for us and tend yourself too little." I chastised. "You cannot hope to last against all that we face if you continue to disregard your own heart for the sake of our safety. Let us take care of ourselves for a while."

Tifa bowed her head in shame and drew her hands away. She gazed down at the ocean far below. "But I've let everyone down." She murmured. "I'll keep doing it too, if it's for Cloud."

I rested my hands, human and mechanical alike, upon the railing beside her. "They will understand." I told her calmly. "And you have not let anyone down."

She shook her head. "But I have." She insisted and bit her lip. "I can't lead you. A leader has to constantly be thinking about the situation at hand and the lives of those around him, and all I can think about is...is if Cloud is alright, and if I'll ever see him again." A tear escaped, rolling down the side of her face and then falling onto the wind to be taken away. "I forgot about everyone, I was so caught up in what happened to him."

"We can take care of ourselves, Tifa." I reminded her. "You must stop worrying about us and take care of yourself once in a while. Follow your heart - you've been selfless long enough."

"I wish it were that simple." She said morosely, "but it's never simple. Sometimes what your heart wants, you can't have, and sometimes you don't even know what it wants."

I smiled nostalgically. "You are young still. Given time, you will realize the truth. Now isn't exactly the prime time to be sorting out the confusions of one's heart besides." I advised. "Impatience will not make the answers come any quicker. I was...the same way."

Tifa abruptly turned to face me, her eyes wide with uncertainty and anxiousness. "How did you survive, Vincent? How did you survive, knowing that the person you loved and adored was more in love with someone else?"

My blood went cold and stiff. I stared long and hard into the void of memories that encompassed my past, seeking out that very answer. It had been staring me in the face whenever I saw my reflection.

"I didn't." There. I had finally faced the truth of my existence and in doing so probably destroyed any hope that she had for herself of ever obtaining the happiness she desired. How did one survive? I certainly didn't know, and I wouldn't advise her to use my strategy.

But she did not flinch or even seem to notice the implication behind it. On the contrary, she stepped closer and slowly wove her fingers through the metal claws of my gauntlet hand; it was closest to her, that's why, but she nary even flinched at what must have been a frigid touch.

Tifa gazed up at me with her warmest, comforting smile. "No." She declared fervently. "Whatever you might think, you did survive. You wouldn't be here with us if you hadn't."

Perhaps not, but my heart is in a state of disrepair such as has never been seen in this world. I could have said it aloud, but I was not about to yield to another weakness. To admit that I possessed a heart at all would be going well beyond the boundary which I myself had created. I was a thing of darkness now, not a human being. That life was behind me.

Tifa seemed to see more in that short span of time than what little she'd been able to ascertain of me in the course of weeks. It showed in the transformation of her eyes from kind and gentle to the fiercely concerned determination that she so often wore when something was terribly wrong.

"Vincent," She spoke firmly, "if you allow and encourage yourself to be perceived as a monster, then that is what you will become. But it doesn't have to be, and I don't think I could survive it if you did become that."

I frowned darkly. Wasn't it I who was supposed to be giving guidance? How had our roles been switched so suddenly and without my knowing? Her words had a truth to them of course. They usually did, but I wasn't about to give her such an easy victory. I wasn't about to pay attention to the fear she exhibited when she admitted just how important I was to her.

"Do not concern yourself with me." I retorted coolly and spun away towards the door. "I am not worthy of your feelings."

She caught me as I was going inside, one hand wrapped firmly around my wrist, unyielding. I stopped reluctantly and glanced with a show of impatience over my shoulder at her.

"What do you want from me?" I demanded, frustrated.

Tifa quickly shut the door behind us and straightened to her full height. "I want you to show me that there's still hope." She answered, her gaze hard and demanding. "I'm not as strong as some people. I don't think I can do it alone, but if you overcome this, than I know I will too. Will you do that for me? We can fight together if you want."

I looked away despondently and felt my chest tighten. "You will find him, Tifa." I said softly. "You will find him and you will have nothing to fight because you will have what you desire." Then I left her standing there, and I didn't dare look back to see the hurt that was undoubtedly written over her face. It would have torn away the illusion that I had created around myself to excuse what I was and what I was allowing myself to become.

It was better to be alone and separate from the world than to suffer the pain of loss again.

So that was it then. He just walked away, his cloak furling furiously behind him, and said nothing more. Would he ever see? I was beginning to think that no one could. Surely, Vincent would understand, and yet somehow he'd gotten it all wrong.

I wrapped my arms around myself and monotonously placed one foot in front of the other. Eventually it would carry me back to the bridge, and back to the suffocating weight of responsibility. No one dared look when I came through the door and crossed the room to the front railing. They must've known from my expression that I was in no mood for encouragement or otherwise.

There was one whose eyes, though averted, somehow bore into my soul even as I stood there brooding however. He had a way of doing that I realized. It was disconcerting at times, and even more so now. Maybe it was my imagination that I could feel his presence and simply my own thoughts revolving around him.

But I didn't really believe that.

My lips twitched faintly at the irony. Here I thought I had been too engrossed with Cloud to care or notice anyone else. Evidently, I was wrong. Vincent was stealing his fare share of the spotlight too.

That was the problem.

Where did that put me now? There was so much that I didn't understand. Once I had thought my feelings so easily defined, and now I was coming to realize how wrong that was. Feelings change and shift, and without any warning at all, and sometimes without any conscious knowledge of it.

I would have to wait, as Vincent said. Wait for my heart to reveal itself, and hopefully I would not make a mistake in the time it would take; hopefully I would not lose something dear before I recognized just how dear it was.

It took nearly an entire day to reach the secluded village of Mideel. I had never even heard of the place, let alone seen it, and no wonder. It was located on an island at the bottom of the map.

On arriving, Barret and Cid accompanied me down to the ground. We walked the last mile to the town, engaging in a few skirmishes along the way. The fiends here were stronger than what we had been facing, but we managed. I was glad for the brief deterrent from the present and was able to smile when we entered the village.

Then everything came crumbling down around me. Who would've thought that our arrival would coincide with a conversation that held such pertinent information as the one we happened to overhear. After talking with the two elder men who had been exchanging said news, we concluded that the young man who'd washed up on their shore recently was very likely to be Cloud, and that his condition was not well.

I didn't even wait for Barret or Cid. Once I had directions to the local clinic I tore of down the street. I didn't hesitate a moment to go in and was harassing the doctor with questions before the poor fellow had a chance to speak.

And then I saw him.

It was awful - completely awful. I was speechless at first, unwilling to trust what my eyes were seeing. The full extent of the damage Cloud had endured in the life stream was more than I had feared. He couldn't make a sound beyond an incomprehensible moan and, though his eyes were opened, they weren't unfocused on anything in the physical world. He was, for all practical purposes, a vegetable.

As the doctor had described, Cloud's mind was far away where no one in the mortal plain could reach him. Only his body remained tied to the living. Something was torn from my own body in that moment. I felt despair to an extent I had never known possible. My knees felt weak, my throat dry, and though I tried to move, nothing would respond.

"Oh Cloud." I whispered his name, pleading hopelessly that this was all some big mistake. That couldn't be Cloud resigned to a wheel chair with no comprehension of what was going on around him. It couldn't be. He was the hero, the one who would carry us all to victory - he was everything in my life.

So this was how it was then. Well, if the world thought that was all it took to put Tifa Lockheart down, then it was sorely mistaken.

My mind was made up before I'd scarcely given it any thought. I left the room and met Cid and Barret outside for a briefing on the situation. Their faces were grim as they listened to the news, even sympathetic, but I didn't want their consolation or their pity. That would be admitting defeat.

"I have to stay with him." I announced. There was no room left for debate and they knew that. Neither gave an indication of question, as if they had been expecting it all along. Maybe they had. We couldn't just leave him here alone in that condition, and I was the obvious choice to stay behind.

"If there's anyone who can bring him back, it's you, Tif." Cid proclaimed and gave my shoulder a firm pat. "We'll come back to check on ya, alright?"

I nodded, while inside a voice had begun to say, "Tell Vincent I'm sorry...", but it remained a thought, and then only a fleeting memory.

We exchanged our goodbyes and then I stood at the gates of town, watching their retreating backs as a wave of regret swelled inside me. I sighed, shaking my head and poking angrily at the dirt. It was the right decision, I insisted upon myself. That's why I had made it, right? Not for my own selfish reasons.

There was a little of both involved with the choice I'm afraid. Cloud was my family, my life - the only person I had left in the world who I could remember with. I could never leave him like this when I needed him like I did. There would be no going on for me without Cloud at my side - this was our story.

But was it still the same deep infatuation, or was it something else? My feeling had always been intimate before. When had it begun to changed?

When he carried her to the grave, and wouldn't let go.

A light wind had risen and stirred my thoughts back to the present as it drifted past, leaving a chill air in its wake. I pivoted on my heel and strode quietly back to the clinic. I paused before the entrance to look up at the sky and just caught a fleeting glimpse of the Highwind as it vanished beyond the tree tops over head.

I felt anxious suddenly, watching them go. I had not gone to explain to the others why I had stayed behind, and I felt a twinge of regret for having left them so abruptly. What would they think?

My gaze descended to the ground sadly. I know what they thought, and I was just beginning to realize that they were wrong. It wasn't time to face truth though. Cloud came first, and if there was time after, I could deal with where we were in relation to one another.

Whether I would survive the heartbreak was another matter entirely, and one that I was not about to consider until it was absolutely necessary. One step at a time...one step at a time.

When they left, I did not move. When she did not return with them, I did not question why. There was no need, for that was unspoken knowledge among each of us as Cid relayed the details of their discovery and of Cloud's unfortunate condition. The mood was sullen and dejected all around when he had finished.

Not only was Cloud gone, but Tifa as well, and she had the most difficult task of all ahead of her. Cloud was our only hope, I'm willing to say, as he was her only hope. If we were to have the slightest chance against Sephiroth, we would need Cloud. It wasn't the only reason she had done it, or even the primary one, but it was in her mind when she made the decision.

To think that I had ventured to say that she would have the happiness she wanted, and that she would never be like I was. Vincent Valentine was not impervious to stupidity it seemed. I had, essentially, put my foot in my mouth, which was not something I was accustomed to doing. It serves me right, I suppose, for behaving childishly and speaking before thinking.

I could only hope that Tifa would prevail. If she could have the happiness that eluded me, I believe I might earn myself a little peace. It wouldn't make up for having failed so long ago to prevent the monstrosity that now threatened humanity, but at least I would not have to tally another sin to the list. There might have even been a small satisfaction in it, if not for my own selfish desires. I knew better than to allow that forbidden thought to linger long in the forefront of my mind however.

We had our own predicament to deal with. Our mission was not over - the quest had not paused, though hope was faint.

Truly, this band of heroes was crumbling away and without the foundations to hold us up, it was only a matter of time before the entire thing collapsed. At least Cid had the good sense to keep his wits about him and not show the signs of despair we were all feeling. He never went down without a fight, and if that meant going on alone, he'd probably do it. Maybe it would be enough to keep us together until...until we had reason to believe again.

It would not, however, be enough to win the war.

The pilot posed before weary, hopless faces, and gave the kind of fiery speech that made you wonder why he wasn't a motivational speaker somewhere. Even I was surprised by the vigor and conviction with which he ordered us to, and I quote, "quit the namby pamby moping around and get ready to win this goddamn war", especially given the overwhelming odds we now faced. Cid would give it all he had, knowing that it would never be enough, and he wouldn't flinch. You had to admire that kind of stark raving mad courage. I was half-convinced we would succeed when he was finished telling us off.

Thus we set out for an uncertain future, on a quest to seek out the giant materia before Shin-Ra did something idiotic with it, which was inevitable. It was a wonder the company had managed to thrive this long.

I closed my eyes and sent a fervent hope to whatever deities might be listening that Tifa would somehow succeed. She had the perseverance, but a little help wouldn't be frowned upon. If I could've fought the battle with her, I would have, but that was not my place.

It never would be.

Author's Notes: Well, it's been a while my friends. I was gone from civilization for an entire month and just got back November 12. So, I haven't had a computer in some time and couldn't update anything, but being away this long has helped me in some ways. I'm able to take a fresh look at all of my stories and I'm feeling pretty good about them for once. I'll probably update "the Spear of Ares" next, but I'm not sure how soon.

As to this little piece, I had my mom read over it, and she thought it was great. I think she's out of her mind, but that's me for you. It isn't near as long as Part 1, but then I hadn't planned on it being a 2 part deal. I thought about making it longer, but there's no reason to add anything if what you got serves its purpose, so here it is. There will be more coming, at least one more installment, and from there...I have no idea. I might try to make a story in between the lines of Advent Children that's based off of this, though it might be a bit of a stretch.

Take care, and Happy Holidays,

Faerlyte