Waking up. My life seems a series of awakenings. Waking up to realize I've just had the best night of my life with the woman of my dreams, waking up to be told she died in childbirth, waking up to Hojo playing butcher with my body, waking up in a coffin, waking up to the first light my eyes have seen in thirty years then waking up to realize Hojo is dead and I'm still here.
Now; waking up in a warm bed with the hum of the Highwind around me. I pretend to continue sleeping, a trick I learned a while back. Even an E.C.G. couldn't detect me waking up. I tried that trick on Hojo a million times, trying to delay the pain, but he knew Turks, damn him to all seven hells.
You can feel with your ears, you know. You can feel the size of a room, you can feel presence. There is someone in the room, and the room is my own, on the Highwind. I give my ears a moment to adjust and wake up before I start picking out who it is. Small feet, light, confident, quiet steps. Too heavy to be Marlene. Either Tifa or Yuffie. I listen some more. Tidying things on my desk. Not Yuffie.
"Tifa." I say. Holy, my throat is parched, and my voice sounds like I have been out for a while. My limbs feel so heavy. I don't want to open my eyes just yet, so I keep them closed though my pupils instinctively turn to follow her noises.
"I'm glad you're up." she says. I can hear the smile in her voice.
"I'm not sure I am." Say I. I am under some very powerful ibuprofen; pain killers. I hear her picking up a glass and pouring some water. Instead of led my brain feels stuffed with cotton. All fluffy and fuzzy and nothing I like.
"Thanks." She says simply, placing the glass beside the bed. That's it, no explanation, no bells and whistles. She knows I know what she means.
I don't want her thanking me, I didn't do it for her. Though I would, if I had to. Don't go jumping off the Highwind until I'm better, though. I think I'll limit the jumps to at least once a month.
Tifa is ok, in my book. She doesn't ask anything stupid like 'are you alright' or 'that was quite a fall you had there' or anything benign like that. She just… accepts things. I like that. She is a strong fighter, and had a smile on her face through most of the horrors we had to witness. Anyone who can keep on smiling in this world, knowing what we know, seeing what we saw… Has to be commended. Not by me, of course. I'm not the type to openly praise anyone unless it's something really astounding. It's a waste of breathe for anything less than amazing. Like Cid's proficiency with electronics and mechanics. I never got those things. Then again, I was raised in a time where a town clock was considered a great novelty. Say what you want about Shinra, they really changed the world.
"Marlene was worried sick about you." Tifa says with that smile still in her voice. I'm glad I don't have my eyes open for that smile. It does things in my stomach. Makes me want to smile back just to see her smile grow.
She probably thinks it is 'cute' that Marlene was worried about me. She probably thought it was 'cute' that I jumped to save her. I am not one for 'cute'. 'Cute' is my bane. I keep quiet.
I hear her walk over to the door and open it. She says something to someone outside and then there is pitter-patter of small feet rushing towards me. Before I can force my heavy lids to open I feel a weight on my chest and arms around me neck.
Is Marlene… hugging me?
Incredulous, I open my eyes. I am blinking weariness away and staring into the biggest pair of brown eyes in the world. Two brown worlds filled with emotion staring right back at me, point blank. The weight feels weird. Not unpleasant, and certainly not too heavy for me to breath… just… weird.
"Have you been crying?" She asks. I blink. Are kids confusing on purpose?
"No." I reply cautiously after a moment. There is a very long pause then.
I'm not used to seeing a face so close to my own. I don't move, don't breathe much. Will she startle if I move too quickly? Will she tighten the grip on my neck? I swallow hard. I never noticed she had freckles. Never had a reason to look at her long enough. I want her to get off, but nothing comes out of my mouth. I almost feel… scared.
When it becomes obvious even to Tifa that I am uncomfortable and am not going to say anything else, she approaches and asks,
"Why do you think he was crying, Marlene?" She is gently prying the kid's hands from around my neck. Tifa, you're a saint.
"Because his eyes are red."
Tifa starts chuckling but it takes me a moment to realize the child's mix-up. She is off the bed now, and my muscles relax. Kids are odd, and my best way to deal with them is not to. Marlene is being ushered outside, and I wanted to thank Tifa, but I didn't. The kid waves at me, and then cowers in embarrassment as she realizes I can't wave back. Tifa softly closes the door behind Marlene, through she stays in the room.
That's just how things work with me sometimes; by the time I figure out what needs to be said the silence stretches to a point where anything said would loose context, or the conversation has already shifted to a different topic. It's not that I'm slow, you see, it's just that everybody else seems to be working at a different pace than me. Words are difficult to string together. They're non-logical and cumbersome and I'm clumsy using them. There are no words to convey the truth, just words to mask it. I don't like it.
I take my time to think of things, other people just say what comes to their mind, which is usually nonsense. There's a saying in Wutai that goes something like "A proof of intelligence is silence". The end result is that I don't say much because not much needs to be said and therefore people do not talk much to me.
I watch the world spin around me, and I've yet to catch up.
Out of my time.
Out of my place.
I think the word I'm looking for is 'anachronistic'.
I attempt to sit up, but my arm is still sore; wrapped in a sturdy bandage. It also seems my metal arm had gone missing. I stare at the stump of it for a long moment, befuddled. I usually only take it off in the shower, or for repairs. It hurts like a gun-wound to take it off, and even worse to put it back on. I hate seeing the stump. I hate feeling like a cripple.
I could ask where it was, or how long I was out, or what happened after I collapsed, but that's what everybody asks when they get up. Instead, I take the 'Vincent Approach' as I heard Tifa coin it.
I look at her steadily and wait. She comes back from the door and sits on my bed.
"Cid carried you back." She starts, "You lost a lot of blood."
To quote Tifa "'The Vincent Approach' is waiting for the obvious because it's obviously going to happen". By determining that those questions are always asked, I can simply wait for human nature to kick in and fill in the blank where an obvious question should be. Most questions that people ask are only because someone wants to tell them the answer. I just skip the obligatory asking part. I've been using this 'Approach' for the better part of our trip, and it's been working like a charm. In the beginning I didn't even notice I was doing it. It was only after Tifa had mentioned it that I started doing it consciously. Honest.
"We were all looking for you." She adds then, quickly. Didn't want me to think it was only Yuffie and Cid? I could care less. I'm thankful enough that they wasted their time on me. "Cid took your… ah… arm and leg for repairs." How often do you get to say that to someone? She wasn't uncomfortable with the subject as much as she didn't know how to approach it. I feel a pang of irritation at Cid. Who said I need help with my arm? Certainly he's a better mechanic than me, but that doesn't mean I'm an invalid or that I should be pitied.
"You were out for two days."
Only two? Not as bad as I thought.
After a pause I clear my throat and say, "My apologies."
Tifa just smiles at me softly. The same smile every time I apologize. She knows that I apologize for being a burden, and I know her answer, her lie.
"You're never a burden, Vincent. You're our friend".
Well, in my book friends can be a damn nuisance sometimes. Besides, I'm not their 'friend', I'm their 'companion'. 'Friends' don't turn into giant, chainsaw-wielding monsters. You don't find 'friends' in coffins, like a 1 Gil toy in an egg from a machine. They pity me, sometimes they fear me. I'm the unknown factor, the trump card, the ace up the proverbial sleeve. Get in a pinch? Just wait until Vincent gets beaten-up enough. Just wait until his body's self-preservation mechanisms… organisms kick in. At least they don't patronize me, and for the better part they've made an honest attempt not to mention the transformations. They skirt the issue with commendable grace.
…At least most of them try to treat me like a human. They try and it makes me feel a little better. That means a lot.
"I'll tell Cid you're up. Don't forget to take your medicine. You don't want an infection." Tifa says, getting up and heading for the door again. She leaves, and the room seems really hollow, suddenly.
Yar, 'tis me again! As promised, I'm updating with this new chapter today! I hope you enjoy. I'm trying to keep uploaded chapters relatively short so that the update time will be (hopefully) reduced.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all those who have reviewed. Special thanks goes to: Yumesuta, Feather Wolf, Rey de las Ardillas, Mythrand and Tirnam'Bas; thank you for reviewing intelligently. Your reviews have inspired me to become a better writer. Please forgive me if I missed someone. Intelligent reviews help me grow! Graargh! Power!
…Anyway. Please expect the next chapter around Saturday. I hope not to disappoint- but all these great people leaving great reviews have startled me; I have high expectations to meet! gulp. I'm always open to suggestions and ideas.
Ever yours, LunarBlade.