Fears
By EgyptianJudgement
Teaser: A walk through the Bone Village forests leaves Yuffie in a difficult position. "Sometimes you can't even trust yourself."
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Fears
"Hah! That'll teach dad to make me take the throne!" Yuffie cackled, silently congratulating herself on a scheme well-done. It's not too important to say what that particular scheme is, but it is important to say that those orange sneakers of hers betrayed her once again, causing her to trip over one of those damn rocks that, amazingly, were everywhere and she fell flat on her face into the cold forest dirt.
She cursed freely, beginning to push herself to her elbows, but didn't get too far, yelping and falling back to the dirt when nearby angry voices that she assumed to be natives (and a quiet voice that was vaguely familiar) disappeared in an eruption of gunfire.
Yuffie lay in the dirt for what seemed like forever, listening intently for any tell-tale signs – footsteps, voices, anything – but when she heard nothing, she scrambled to her feet and ran towards where she heard the gunshots: a wide clearing. Normally she would have been upset and just tried to help the person, but the victim of this attack made her heart break.
Vincent was sprawled across the forest ground at a disturbing angle that brought a cry to her mouth as she ran over to him, dropping to her knees by his side. "Vinnie… What'd you do!" she muttered, biting her lip as she looked over the damage. His right arm was badly severed, still attached by some sinew at the shoulder. Both legs were tattered and bloody, and every breath he took caused the bullet holes in his chest to bubble out blood across his shirt.
"Dammit Vinnie – why'd you let yourself get hurt like that, huh?" she sniffed, brushing a wet strand of hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear, ignoring her churning stomach and its protests against his sickeningly pale complexion.
His eyes fluttered open and locked onto her face. "…They were… after something… And I refused to give it to them," he gasped, rotten blood dribbling clumsily down his chin and across his chest, making his entire body writhe weakly.
"…Stubborn old goat, ain'tcha?" she giggled, looking everywhere except at him. That look in his eyes… it was so different from what he normally showed. Yuffie could have sworn there was hidden emotion there.
Vincent let out a weak sigh and closed his eyes. His breathing was still ragged, but it was soft enough to the point where it convinced Yuffie that he had passed on. As soon as the first sob left her lips, he opened his eyes with that very same look – one she know recognized as one of fear and pain… maybe even love.
"C'mon, Vinnie… let's get you up, mmkay?" she said, forcing a cheerful smile upon her face as she slipped her arm beneath his neck and tried to lift him up into a decent sitting position.
"Ah!"
"Eep! Ooh, Vinnie, I'm sorry!" she squeaked, laying him back down quickly. Apaprently there was more damage done to him that what met the eye… His head lolled precariously to the side ad the gunman looked away from the ninja towards the trees. He muttered something she couldn't understand then tried to reach out for something she didn't see.
Yuffie sniffled, her sobbing hiccoughs unable to be suppressed as she looked on helplessly at her dying comrade. It only took a few more moments and the light faded from his eyes as they glazed over and slowly shut for the last time.
After that, she couldn't take it. Those twenty minutes with him took its toll on her and she broke down into tears, holding him close to her and crying his name.
She awoke in a cold sweat, suppressing a heart-wrenching scream as she sat up bolt-upright in bed, shivering as if she had been sleeping on ice instead of in a warm bed.
"What's wrong, Yuffie? Another nightmare?"
She jumped. He was awake. "Huh? Oh, Vinnie. Yeah, I had another one."
Vincent shook his head sadly. "This has been going on for two weeks now. What was this one about? Can you tell me?"
Looking wearily over at him, she left faint when she realized that their current positions matched the ones from her nightmare perfectly. She shook her head. "It was… I'll tell you later, okay?" she mumbled, afraid of his reaction to the dream itself if she told him.
He nodded gently, genuinely worried about his little butterfly. "All right. But lay back down and sleep, Yuffie. You need it."
She complied, cuddling up close in his arms. The room received one last fearful glance before she closed her eyes to everything, burying her face into his chest fearfully. But no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, Yuffie couldn't get the image of those dead eyes – her husband's eyes – out of her head.
What is fact? What is fiction?
What are truths? What are lies?
Neither is always real. Neither is always fake.
So how do we know?
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A/N: For a random dream-fiction, this came out pretty good on my terms. I'm proud of one of my works for once, and it's even Yuffentine! W00t! I declare a celebration in the name of… of… Something. O.o; If you find a reason, lemme know. 3