Standard FF:VIII disclaimer
A/N: This is just something that came to mind, so I don't expect it to be particularly good. It's one possible interpretation of how Vincent was introduced to the rest of the group.
I wasn't entirely sure if Cid is there at this point, but I needed the extra warm body and couldn't be bothered to go and check.
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They were surprised to see four people emerge from the mansion, when only three had gone in.
Following behind the disgruntled-looking Cloud, compulsively chattering Yuffie and the unusually silent Cid, he looked somewhat like an impassive wraith, a shadow clothed in red.
The little procession stopped in front of the main group.
"This is Vincent. He's agreed to help us. Don't worry, he's trustworthy." Cloud explained, seeing their puzzled expressions.
They scrutinized him anew: from the long dark hair, held in check by a blood red bandanna, past the golden claw and the crimson, tattered cloak, to the pointed boots. He certainly looked the part of someone who lived in a haunted mansion.
Dead silence. Even Yuffie has stopped her incessant babble to take a good look, now that he could be seen properly, in full daylight.
Sensing the sudden awkwardness, Cloud cleared his throat and spoke again.
"Um, okay. Yuffie and Cid you know already, so I guess I should introduce everyone else..." He trailed off, to find everyone simply looking at him. "...um..."
"I'm Tifa," the marital artist told Vincent, stepping forward, "and that's Red XIII." gesturing to the firecat. The gunman glanced at her, and then directed his attention down and to the right.
"Nanaki." He had a voice like gravel, they all immediately noted, before puzzlement at this recognition set in. One eyebrow raised, a silent communication seemed to pass between the two, resulting in a slight shrug from Red, who somehow managed to convey slight embarrassment. Vincent's gaze swept over the rest of the group, Tifa helpfully naming them as he went.
"...Barret..." He quickly analysed the man's massive physique, the gun grafted onto his arm, the distrust and slight bewilderment written all over his face, then moved on.
"...Cait Sith..." The robot merited barely a glance before a pair of eyes the colour of spilt gore locked onto two forest green ones.
"...and Aeris...?" Clearly somewhat put off by his earlier recognition, Tifa was totally thrown by the Vincent's intense stare and Aeris' benign smile.
A moment passed, in which everyone but the two main participants wondered what possible connection a total stranger and a woman who hadn't been out of Midgar since she could speak might possibly have. Then Vincent moved, striding towards her, gazes still locked.
Even Cloud, their unflappable, indomitable leader, seemed shocked into immobility by the double whammy of their new ally's familiarity with both Red XIII and Aeris, and in particular by the fact that the latter seemed to be welcoming his approach.
Before any had gathered their wits enough to react, Vincent had stopped before her, he still staring and her still smiling benignly, hesitated for a moment, then dropped to his knees.
As she stepped forward, gesturing for the others not to intervene, his head dropped, breaking eye contact, until he was inspecting the ground, looking almost ashamed. Aeris' expression changed from benign to downright motherly as she bent down, stroking his hair like that of a troubled child.
"…Ancient…I…failed…she…" His voice, previously deep and confident, now resonated with a deep despair, a misery that spoke of a torment deeper than most though possible. His shoulders started shaking slightly.
"Shhhh, Vincent, don't worry. It wasn't your fault." Her tone was that of a parent, soothing their children's anxieties with gentle rebukes and encouragements. She moved closer, bringing him into a hug. The disparity of heights, combined with his kneeling position, meant that she was cradling his head, almost like a baby.
"Don't cry. It wasn't the kind of decision that anyone should have to make. You were forced to. Is it any fault of your own that there was nothing, nothing whatsoever, that you could have done?" She asked rhetorically, still soothing, stroking. "I very much doubt if all she would have wanted you to do with the rest of your life was to wallow in self pity, Vincent."
No reply. Not even a muttered attempt.
Aeris, almost roughly, moved away from her charge, the hands on the side of his head forcing him to look at her. She spoke almost challengingly, now more like a mother addressing a petulant adolescent "Would she, Mr Valentine?"
Everyone jerked back slightly at the change in her tone, but she would not release Vincent until she had an answer. They were all too surprised to wonder how she knew his surname.
After several seconds delay, during which Aeris glared at him, apparently angry with his inability to see the truth, he nodded, and she released him.
Vincent stood, quickly brushed himself off, and moved to the side, obviously intent on removing himself from the limelight.
For nearly a full minute they all simply stood, most with expressions of baffled incomprehension, simply sharing glances or staring at nothing, until Aeris clapped her hands and shooed them along to the inn.
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A/N: There are currently no plans to further this story, but I'd still appreciate reviews.