Chapter 2: A Reverie

When I had departed from Nibelheim with the Rag-tag band known as Avalanche, I had been mildly surprised to learn that Cloud was their leader, a person that I felt did not suit nor deserve the role. Tifa's personality radiated confidence, passion, and kindness; all attributes I found pleasing in her, things which made her out to be the better candidate for leader. Yet Cloud did things by the seam of his pants, and was cocky and arrogant. I found little liking for the man, for many other reasons besides.

Tifa…

What he did to you, then, was nothing short of cruel. We all knew. Tifa was in love with him. But neither of them spoke of it, regardless of what was going on around them. I didn't doubt that if she really wanted to, Tifa could have taken Cloud for her own: instead, she stepped aside and allowed Aeris to take him.

Yet that was just the kind of person she was. So unselfish it was frustrating, and yet she was beautiful enough to ensnare any man she desired. Yes, I had noticed, much to my chagrin.

As I sat by the fire, slowly sipping whisky that was constantly being replenished, the warmth radiating from the flames sent me dipping into my memories. A habit I had long tried to train myself out of. I reflected on an exchange between Tifa and myself, which led to me realise just what kind of person she was.

In the face of my rudeness and the short and clipped manner in which I spoke to her, she still persisted. It is not something that I looked back on with pride; she of all people deserved my respect and my shoulder, should she need one.

The fire had been bigger, and out of doors, burning into the star-dusted skies that stretched above the great Canyon of Cosmo. I read the skies. It was after midnight, at least, if my knowledge of the constellations in this region were anywhere near accurate.

I made my solitary way over to the fire, my neck craned to admire the untainted skyline that Cosmo canyon offered. The rest of the town was empty, the merrily crackling fire being the only sound. A blurred shape against the red glare of the flames told me I would not find solitude tonight.

I came towards her slowly, so my sudden presence did not cause alarm, and stopped only when I had reached a spot a few metres to her left. I sat down and rested an elbow on a drawn up knee, allowing my hair to fall over my face.

I waited for her to speak.

"Couldn't sleep too?"

"…." I chose to stay silent.

"I take that as a yes." She scraped her boots on the dirt. I stole a glance at her through my black hair. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, beautiful long brown hair falling over her shoulders. I admired the way the firelight danced and rippled down each strand, a slow, sultry dance between lava and chocolate. Her unfocused eyes reflected the hues of the burning fire. "You never seem to sleep…"

"You're not sleeping either." I pointed out, keeping my tone level. That was a cue to stop that line of conversation.

I watched her secretly. She seemed paler than usual though her skin was warmed amber by the firelight. Unwillingly, I felt saddened by the sight of her.

The Tifa that was when I had first met her wasn't here now, sat at the fire. She was off someplace else, leaving her shell behind.

"No. I'm not." She replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes met my guardedly inquisitive stare resolutely, and she did not waver.

"I… I can't even explain it…" Her voice was cracking, eyes glimmering for a brief moment in the starlight. I felt a weakness I dared not expose, drawing away from her inwardly as though she were poison.

"I did not ask you to explain." I cut in sharply, tilting my head back so I could gaze at the stars too, and in doing so, severing our eye contact.

"I know... I just thought you would understand…" She sounded angry, though she was using her anger to mask her hurt feelings. Better that then make me watch her cry. I wasn't so sure how I would handle that.

"They are your nightmares. I would not wish to-" I paused, avoiding the word 'burden'. That sounded too harsh, even to me. "-to share my nightmares with you. Therefore I don't expect you to do so, either."

I felt her sharp gaze on me soften, and she sat upright again, gazing at me once more. "Oh I didn't mean to…"

"Forget it."

She was smiling absently again, gazing absently into the fire, the flames occasionally spitting, and sending crackling embers into the night air. As if remembering how cold it could be, out in the desert at night, she shivered, drawing her coat tighter around her shoulders.

"You know, Vincent, sometimes I get the impression you don't really want to be here."

"…"I offered no response, willing her to continue.

"Something else seems to be your motive."

"Indeed. You seem to understand me perfectly."

Avalanche wasn't a cause I would usually associate myself with, but it I didn't have the luxury of picking and choosing. And she was correct in assuming that I had other reasons for joining them. I had my own reasons for fighting the same battle. That was why we were together: By necessity only.

"Go to sleep, Tifa. You need it."

I left the fire-side and crossed to the door leading to the ascending stairs, not paying any more attention to her, although I did hear her say;

"Goodnight Vincent."

-0-

In the days that followed, I sensed her attitude had considerably cooled toward me. Perhaps I had offended her. No doubt she thought I was a much better person than I truly was. Foolish girl. Perhaps it was time she realised that the world was a horrible place, and that someone as pure-hearted had no place within it.

We had been travelling over harsh terrain for days, toiling away, hardly speaking to each other, needing to conserve the energy to remain on our feet, and fight if we were faced with monsters. Tensions were running high, making everybody extremely fractious. One night, the sun had just begun to set over the hills when Cloud ordered us to set up camp for the evening.

Unknown to the group, I had sustained an injury in my upper arm that jarred with every step I took. I got through it silently and without a complaint by gritting my teeth and continuing on. Nearby to our camp was a small wooded area. Needing a little privacy and a place to clear my head, I diverted my steps towards it, leaving the others setting up camp in the clearing.

After tramping through the undergrowth for a few minutes I was rewarded by the sight of a bubbling stream. I huffed a breath of relief and sank to my knees at its edge, the water on the stones seeping through the fabric of my pants, but I did not care.

I undid my shirt and shrugged it off my shoulders. The incision ran across my shoulder, to a point a few inches below my neck. I poked it testily. A deep cut, but it was a clean one. Finally satisfied I was in no more danger; I began to wash away the blood that stained my pale skin. Fresh flow began to seep from the wound, staining my hands anew.

Caught up in my current task, I had lost grip on my surroundings. All of a sudden y senses flared, drawing my attention to a place somewhere behind me. I cursed myself silently for my lack of diligence. In my state of irritation, I had neglected to stay aware of any followers, or even worse, more monsters. Already, I had lost some of my control, and had come close to transforming.

But now, I was out on my own in an enclosed space. There was little reason to hold back.

My hand shot to my gun and I aimed it between the trees. I waited for any sounds of approaching life. Something moved in the bush slightly to my right. A figure loomed out of the shadows of the trees. It was Tifa.

I dropped my hand to my side in frustration. I didn't need her worrying about me now. Not to mention feeling a sinking sensation in my stomach; I could have harmed her.

"Vincent, you should have said you were coming here. We were worried." She said softly, kneeling by my side at the stream, apparently oblivious to my state of fury. I watched her wash the mud from her knees and some that had managed to smear her cheeks. She looked up at me then, her face caught between amusement and concern; both emotions were unwelcome.

"Do you need something?" I asked, a little more viciously than I intended, but by then my anger was stirring and there was nothing I could do to quell it. Perhaps I believed I could scare her away. I had totally under estimated her.

"I noticed your wound. If you'll let me do it for you…" She reached out a hand to touch me, fingers delicately curled. I pushed her hand away, heart racing. I'd never let her come this close, never gotten this far with her, and I wasn't about to let my guard down now.

"No Tifa."

"You can't do it yourself, Vincent, I know you're right handed." She pointed out tartly, reaching out her hand again. I closed my eyes and let out a breath through my nose. I didn't like the feeling it was giving me.

"Tifa…" I repeated, my tone dangerous, opening my eyes and staring hard at her with a mixture of urgency and annoyance. I realised my eyes were beginning to change their hues and suddenly I feared for her safety. That was, until her balled fist collided with the side of my face. I spat blood, the bitter taste reminding me all too well of my humanity, the dull ache now residing in my jaw distracting me from my current predicament: Knelt in the mud, half naked, and bleeding from my shoulder as well as my lip.

"I know Vincent! Now just shut up, swallow your pride and stay still." She said venomously, tearing a section of cloth from a spare strip of material, rinsing it in the water, then dabbing gently at my wound. I gritted my teeth and allowed her to continue, glad that she had at least managed to save me a painful transformation.

When she had finished and bound cloth tightly around my shoulder, she stood to leave.

"Tifa," I hesitated, watching her stop as she reached the edge of the trees. She offered me a smile that I would like to call her true smile. She wasn't pretending to be anything then, no hiding, no insecurity; just Tifa in her raw state.

"It's alright Vincent." She accepted my unspoken apology and thanks just like that, and I realised her value to our cause all in an instant. She was what was keeping us all together, such as we were.

But she needed someone too, someone to be there for her. And I knew it wouldn't be him. It would never be him.

…Just like it couldn't have been me.

Lucrecia…

-0-

A/N: Tried to make this a little more poignant, as it's supposed to be the event which makes Vincent give Tifa the respect she deserves. On to the next chapter, which is, incidentally, one of my favourite snippets I've ever written.