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Chapter XXVI – Penance-Perfect

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Thin fingers suddenly curled around the jutting armour of his talons as two small hands reached down to yank at his gauntlet. Vincent summoned what little strength he could gain from within and forced himself to aid the boy's desperate attempts to pull him up from the beckoning abyss below, boots scrabbling for purchase with the shrill scrape of metal on rock. Denzel clenched his eyes shut, clearly terrified at the sheer drop in front of him and focusing all his efforts in maintaining his grip rather than peering into the void. Vincent's attempts to call to the pale-faced orphan were lost as another wave of searing nausea engulfed his body with acidic deluge. His grip faltered, golden claw cleaving into the slick rock as he slid further down the crag face.

Azure eyes snapped open as Denzel's pull was now reversed from pulling up the gunslinger to the gunslinger pulling him down – Vincent unintentionally dragging the boy to join him in his ineffectual battle with gravity and subsequent descent. Worn sneakers ground stray pebbles perched on the precipice of the pit as the orphan attempted to sway the tug-of-war in his favour, but he soon tipped like an overweighted scale to suddenly hang halfway over the edge. A bubble of panic swelled within Denzel's gut to rise through his chest before bursting from his lips in an unintelligible babble of pure fear. The sound slowly grew from its cocooned mumblings to metamorphose into a terrified yell.

Something long and buried deep stirred at the boy's cry and Vincent lunged for Denzel's arm just as he tumbled past, the orphan falling from his precipitous perch with sudden and surprising speed. Thin yet strong fingers dug through his hoodie sleeve and latched around his wrist as Vincent caught him mid-plummet, willingly paying the price of falling halfway down the cliff face from the additional weight and enticing pull of gravity. Metal talons screeched against rock as four entities spat deep within his psyche. Knowing he couldn't maintain his hold much longer, an odd silence swelled inside Vincent's skull as his head buzzed with the disconcerting sensation of truth, panic, and madness amongst the howls of his demons.

Denzel's scream suddenly permeated his self-induced psychosis.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

Vincent grit his teeth and reacted in kind, pulling the flailing boy closer to his side in hopes to quell the child's frightened struggles. Something seized his limbs and paralyzed him with ill raging fire, pain searing his bones and boiling his very marrow. Sweat ran down the narrow cartilage of his nose to careen into the pit below with a singular drip – and he feared he would soon join it.

It was only until another's reaction reached his ears that Vincent was reminded he wasn't alone.

"Denzel?!"

The panicked vocal response of Tifa instigated one of Denzel's own, though the boy could only manage stuttering, terrified babbles in response to one of his deepest fears laid bare beneath his dangling feet. The woman's own gasp of surprise mixed with the sound of the boy's hysteria, which in turn caused the symphonic voices of the party to strike up in frightened cacophony.

"SHIT! WHAT THA HELL'S GOIN' ON!?"

"D-Denzel!? Daddy, please save them!"

"ACK!? V-Vince?! How the heck did ya get all the way up there!?"

"Save yer questions fer later, lassie! Hang on, Vinnie boy!"

"I'M COMING, DENZEL! HOLD ON, VINCENT!"

Tifa's impassioned plea was followed by the resonations of feet falling upon metal as the woman audibly rushed to their aid, the chaotic chatter of his comrades rising with the Mako vapours that twisted and danced about his tattered cape ends.

"Vincent!"

A voice, distinct and sagely, snapped his neck towards the cliff edge as onyx brows jumped to skirt the border of his sweat-soaked bandanna. Nanaki peered down at him, breathless and ruffled, his tail whipping to and fro with frightened disrest. The gunslinger's surge of inward relief at the sight was short lived when an explosion suddenly detonated beneath them, Denzel jostling in his grip as a blast of searing air rushed over them in a torrid wave. The force threw up the gunslinger's cape in a magnificent bellow of crimson but the man bearing the mantle fell literally winded, sliding down to the utmost extremities of the rock face until he hung from the very edge of the protrusion, leaving glaring claw marks in his wake.

One more drop would be one more too many.

'I refuse to let Denzel... pay for my mistakes!'

Something inside his skull snapped open anguished eyes and with a surge of strength unaware he possessed, Vincent took tight hold of the boy's wrist before he wrenched his arm forward with alien power, tossing the very orphan all the way up the cliff and towards the awaiting fire-dog as easily as throwing a ball of Materia. Nanaki's brows visibly shot towards the heights of his mohawk before he reactively snapped for Denzel's hoodie, clamping the fabric between his teeth and holding the terrified youngster in a firm jaw lock.

Power subsiding, so did the gunslinger's final reserves of strength. With one last glance at Denzel and his new guardian dragging him to safety, he let himself succumb to the foreign entity that sapped his vitality and lay corrosive waste upon his very innards; crimson eyes rolling back into his skull, Vincent fell.

The clamour of frightened cries beneath him slowly waned to a ghostly lament within the creeping ivory that drank of his sight. The echo persisted within the stark landscape that slowly began to paint itself around him, the chorus of his comrades eventually consumed by an overwhelming glow akin to bright sun on snow, then suddenly he was standing in a vast plane like a misplaced ghost amidst a painting.

White flowers as crisp as bleached parchment grew around his gold-plated feet and coated the ground, only punctuated by the occasional blades of emerald green grass that managed to worm its way from beneath the bloom; paper petals dancing to an invisible wind. He blinked, confusion settling heavy on his sweat-beaded brow as he scanned the blank void beyond the flower field he suddenly found himself planted in. He drew a shaky breath, testing his lungs to calm the heart he couldn't quite feel, though no air came to him yet neither did the need for oxygen. Time felt like a far away apparition, as far away as he himself felt from any sense of realism, and he fought the sense of urgency and panic that gripped his conscious and threatened to consume him.

What that sense of urgency and panic was for, he couldn't quite recall.

He began to examine his surroundings through the fog of disarray which clouded his mind when the unmistakable presence of another precipitated his senses with a tingle that crawled across his skin. Ignoring wavering nerves, he spun to face the unknown entity with a flourish of crimson. The bloom surrounding the scape like a fluorescent spotlight was near blinding, but even across the canvas sea the silhouette of a woman was unmistakable; a lone figure standing across the divide of stark and white. Over the far distance, he could just make out long, pulled back hair teased by a wind he could neither feel nor hear.

The breath he wasn't sure he could take caught in his throat.

Uncertain of just what he was seeing, or if he himself was indeed real – if this was real – he suppressed the urge to recoil from the dazzling radiance and took a single, cautionary step forward.

The flowers swallowing his feet swayed to accommodate his boot before they rippled out with an all encompassing roar. A tidal wave of petals plucked away to soar in a hole-ridden curtain of ivory. His sight bespeckled with white as the surreal painting he found himself in began to peel; jagged flecks the colour of bleached bone soaring past to billow out with the shock wave he'd created. His cape whipped behind him as he threw up hand and claw to shield his face, crimson eyes squinting to peer through the gap of forearm and gauntlet.

White flora continued to ripple outwards like the water of a disturbed puddle as the landscape started to erode, petals and grass floating skyward to disappear into an infinite void. As the paint began to melt away, so did the mysterious hourglass figure of the woman. His voice choked in his throat as he tried to cry out, pushing through the storm of petals to stretch a leather gloved hand towards the silhouette.

When the pale blossom curtain finally rose to unveil his sight, she was gone. Lost to fade in an endless cotton-coloured sky and leaving nimble fingers splayed in a desperate grasp never to be met.

He froze. Eyes widening, his fingers curled in recoil before the whole plane began to list, the very landscape itself tipping towards the empty void it floated in. Blood-red cape fluttering into his back like the embrace of an old lover, the sensation of being windborne crept upon him before he careened backwards. Falling from the crumbling plane, he tumbled into an eternal blanket of ivory.

Suddenly, his back slammed into something cold and hard.

The impact struck his spine and his back arched as he gasped for air – real air – the blow bursting from his chest to resonate though his very bones. Something screamed from within and as he tried to grasp a single shard of sense amidst the phantasmagoria, he was suddenly aware of thin yet strong fingers pulling at the front folds of his mantle. Heaving, his chest near convulsed with the effort to breathe and he fought against his dementia and disorientation to find some sort of identity.

"Vincent! Vincent, get up!"

Vincent. His name was Vincent.

Clarity burst through in a flood of lucidity and blood-red eyes snapped open, golden flecked irises burning as they sought the voice which pulled him from the brink. Wide eyes the colour of cognac, bright with fright and brimming with resolve, held his own and granted him the rest of his senses; the trickle of cold sweat running down his nasal bone, the frantic roars of the party, and the urgency of their current position. Coming to, he fought to pull himself up from the worn metal rail track he lay on while Tifa pulled him towards her with white knuckled fistfuls of crimson.

"Would you guys hurry it up, already!?" Yuffie's strained voice permeated his confusion and delivered instant awareness of his surroundings.

Barret and Yuffie stood at the foot of the Mako Reactor, the ex-AVALANCHE leader gripping a severed piece of railway between both burly fists as he grit his teeth with the strain. The track itself looked like it had been subject to an explosion, ripped from the redundant supply line to instead be employed as a makeshift safety net come bridge; one which both him and Tifa now stood on, hovered over a chasm of iridescent Mako. Yuffie held the long piece of severed rail in place with her shuriken as she leant over Barret, the star-shaped weapon having pierced through both ends of the softened metal with two of its four bladed points, effectively pinning the corroded track to the reactor's support structure. Holding her ground, she forced all of her weight onto the ninja star also known as Conformer, hands visibly shaking with the effort of keeping it steady.

Vincent studied them with stunned realisation; they had caught him mid-fall using Corel's old rusted supply lines.

Before he had time to linger on his epiphany, a loud crack resonated from above and he snapped his gaze to the very cliff he'd been hanging from for a time he couldn't quite recall. Great slabs of rock began to crumble from the wicked claw marks cleft deep into the crag face. A slick chunk of stone slid from its pocket within the wall to hurtle straight toward them and as he struggled to his feet, the tight grasp on his mantle swiftly fell away. Before he could even think about reaching for his triple-barrelled revolver, Tifa spun with great momentum and swiftly executed a perfect spinning hook kick; smashing the rock squarely out of the air with the brute force of her heel. Gracefully returning her feet to the narrow, protesting rail track beneath them like a ballerina returning from a pivot, she grasped his mantle yet again and near heaved the dazed gunslinger to his own two feet.

Though he was aware she spoke to him as she pulled him back along the ladder-like bridge amidst the rock fall, the ill sensation laying waste to his insides distracted his cognitive processes while reminding him he was still very much alive. Skull buzzing, he watched as the fistfighter proceeded to smash away tumbling pieces of debris with her fists as she worked her way back towards the reactor and the two straining comrades holding their walkway in place beneath it.

"TIF'! WATCH IT!"

Barret's bellow snapped him from his bane of Mako vapours and he straightened from the pain of his writhing innards to catch the plummeting slab of stone that elicited the dark-skinned man's cry. Tifa spun in surprise and near blanched, trying to manoeuvre her body on the narrow track in order to perform another masterful and profound technique of martial artistry, but they both knew she wouldn't make it in time. Danger clouding his mind and momentarily smothering his fog of confusion, Vincent instinctively thrust Tifa forward before he moved to cover her back and shield her in a shroud of crimson. Throwing up his left shoulder, the rock clipped the bone with a dull crack and a hard grunt from the gunslinger before tumbling down into the void below.

He barely had time to assess the pain or the panic-stricken voices at his ear before Tifa's hands were upon him once more, slender fingers wrapped around the folds of his mantle and urgently pulling him across the audibly straining rail track.

"I... can't... hold it... much longer... !" Yuffie cry intermingled with a metallic wail, the makeshift bridge beginning to buckle under the stress it hadn't endured since decades past. Corroded track lines arched down towards the sea of Mako as gravity took its toll and the young ninja's shuriken began to falter. The piercing shrill permeated Vincent's befuddled brain and he pushed through his pain to nudge Tifa forward, but the fighter held on strong to the creased folds lining his cape.

"Oh no you don't!" she snapped, pulling him along as she situated her feet to use the tilting line planks like the rungs of a ladder. "I'm not leaving you!" Aiming an obdurate glare at the gunslinger she was unsure could even hear her, she pushed hardened calves onward to climb the last stretch of corroded railroad. "Last time I did that... I find you hanging off a cliff... with Denzel of all people-!"

The fighter's strained mutterings were cut short when the track gave a violent jerk downwards, the grand pit of gurgling fluid taking on a frightening edge. Biting her tongue in lieu of crying out, she took firm purchase of her companion's mantle and the lumber sleeper beneath her foot. Pushing onward with all her strength, Tifa propelled herself forward and leapt across the final divide between herself and her old friend, dragging a not quite coherent gunslinger with her. Barret, on seeing her intended action, immediately let go of the railway track to stretch out his huge trunk-like arms to catch her.

Without the dark-skinned man's considerable muscle the oxidised line completely crumpled under its own weight, chair bolts unscrewing to pop from their metallic fasteners as twin beams contorted to sever from their own infrastructure. Tifa fell into Barret's arms just as Yuffie wrenched her shuriken from the confines of the corroded metal track; the ninja delivering the rails to an eternal iridescent green grave just as Vincent barrelled into Tifa from behind, sending the four ex-AVALANCHE members tumbling into a grandeur heap upon the steel grated floor.

Seconds trickled by in agonisingly slow ticks. Eventually, sore muscles arduously disentangled themselves from the pile of limbs. Yuffie rolled to lie spread-eagled across Barret's outstretched arm as the ex-AVALANCHE leader's thick tattooed bicep became a pillow for the young ninja's head. The dark-skinned man maintained his hold around Tifa's hips as he fought to catch his breath, aching muscles recovering from an ordeal that had pushed them to their limit. Slender legs stretched diagonal to entwine with his own as Tifa herself lay draped atop Vincent's mantle, hands still curled deep around his cape as she rest half sprawled across his chest. The gunslinger's right hand rest instinctively on the small of her back, beads of perspiration trailing to fall from high cheekbones. Suddenly comprehending her position with a tired flush, Tifa strained to lift herself and Vincent slid his gauntlet away with agonising difficulty to allow her to roll into Barret's embrace.

Distorted imagery of his chimerical encounter flooded back and Vincent closed his eyes in weary resignation as blurred imagery began to play behind fallen eyelids. Chests heaved as the group stared up towards the heavens, the melody of tumbling rocks the only sound between them as the cliff continued to crumble from its previously unexpected guest. Appreciating the cool safety of the patterned steel floor with gracious fervour, they lay gazing into a pink and indigo streaked sky, each trying to recollect just how they'd gotten themselves into such a position in the first place.

Out of the four ex-AVALANCHE members, Yuffie was the first to speak up.

"... Give me Sephiroth over this any day."

Tifa and Barret both turned their heads towards the ninja while Vincent wearily cast only his gaze in the form of one barely cracked open crimson eye. Silence rang triumphant for a few terse moments before it was broken by a dulcet, uplifting melody; light and delicate like a handful of feathers set to the wind.

Tifa laughed.

Slowly, Barret's bass chuckles joined the bubbling hymn as did Yuffie's guiltless giggles and it wasn't long before all three AVALANCHE members were succumbed with mirth, their bodies shaking as they lay flat on their backs, roaring with the hysteria of a post near-death experience.

Vincent barely hid a snort behind his crimson cowl, lips curving into a ghost of a smile as he gazed up at the milky white of waking stars from his resting place on the worn steel grating.

Hilarity, it would appear, was highly contagious.

Rapid footfalls and the click of nails on grate sang a small bar in the melody and the gunslinger - as ragged as the cape lain beneath him – let his head fall slack to watch Nanaki sprint towards the mirth-crippled party in a blur of orange and fire. Panting, the fire-dog slid to a halt across the divide of severed railway track. A messy tuft of tousled hair peeked around the quadruped's own of spiked mohawk as wide azure eyes sought out the main instrument of the song. On sight of Tifa, the boy near tumbled from Red XIII's back to meet her but two small arms wrapped tightly around his waist and held him to the spot.

"DENZEL!"

A tearful Marlene's exclamation was muffled as she buried her face in the back of his moss-green hoodie and the orphan visibly stiffened in turn much to the amusement of the lion-like dog. Watching the young girl clutch onto her best friend like a child would their favourite stuffed toy, the lone, mirth creased ochre-coloured eye of Nanaki met Vincent's own of tired esteem. As Denzel's arms slowly moved to return Marlene's embrace, an unspoken understanding of relief was shared.

"Yoo're... sure... hard tae catch up to!" Cait Sith's voice piped up amidst the laughter which rose up over the mountains and Mako deposits. "Me an' Marlene gave chase tae try an' lend ye a hand, but instead ye got us runnin' back an' forth like'a bunch o' manic Choco- eh?" On catching sight of Barret clutching the party's only two women to his side in the throes of laughter next to an indisposed Vincent, the cat puppet paused in his Nanaki-addressed rant to slow to a stop behind the quadruped.

"... Whit's so funny? Did'ah miss somethin'?"

Red XIII's ear swivelled towards the robotic feline before his head eventually followed with a jingle of tassles. When he next spoke, it was with a grin that nearly matched Cait Sith's.

"The most worrying thing is, no, you did not."

"""

~ oOo ~

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Pulling themselves together - physically and mentally - from the Mako Reactor floor, the trio of adults finally made to move from the area. While Tifa went to help Vincent to his feet, (the gunslinger politely declining which made the fighter bite the inside of her cheek,) Yuffie dealt with a furious Barret throwing around expletives like they were going out of fashion. From his time lying on the floor, the gun-armed man had eventually caught sight of the wisps of steam emanating from the Mako Reactor's top-most vents in discreet puffs; subsequently sending him into an anti-Shinra frenzy the likes of which hadn't been seen since his and Tifa's early AVALANCHE days of sabotage and subterfuge.

After the group's initial shock, any calls to Reeve had been postponed after no small amount of persuasion and reasoning on Tifa's part – the rapidly declining light and shared reluctance to traverse such dangerous terrain in the dark making a convincing argument to her old friend. With the promise to check in with their executive comrade upon reaching Corel, Barret grudgingly agreed and immediately sought out more dilapidated structure work to blow up. With grit teeth, the gun-armed man fired an impressive charge at some peeling reactor shrapnel and reft a big sheet of metal from the aging tower itself. Situating the piece over rusted railway lines with the help of Tifa and Yuffie, he created a small bridge to cover the severed track of equal size.

The fighter was the first one to cross, darting to Denzel's side as the orphan did to hers. Arms wide and seeking comfort, they rushed each other, craving for the reassurance that the other was safe. Falling to her knees, Tifa curled herself around the boy as he dived into her arms, clinging to the leather duster hung low at her hips. Meanwhile, Marlene dashed to her father in a billow of white skirt and unshed tears. The burly man was quick to scoop her up in strong arms and sore muscles, holding her close with an all-telling grin of relief.

Yuffie watched the parental reunions with watery chestnut eyes before she turned her attention to an equally observant and tail wagging Nanaki. Skipping past the two adults and adoptive children, she made a beeline for the lion-like dog before throwing open her arms with a flourish of jovial mischief. Red XIII caught the action and her intentions equally as quick, barely having time to lower his ears let alone brace himself as the young ninja pounced to hold him in much the same way Tifa near cradled Denzel. Cait Sith watched on with his muzzle hidden behind a quaking paw, his whiskers jumping alongside his shoulders at the sight.

From afar, Vincent studied the group with a forlorn sense of detachment, a throbbing shoulder his only anchor to reality. His mind fell besieged to images of the metaphysical. The abstract... and the dead. The porcelain realm haunted his memories and left him in a dream-like state as he stood in silent observance of the team's relieved reunion. A sudden flash of yellow caught the corner of his eye and snapped him from his near state of catatonia, dragging his gaze from the backs of his comrades to follow the brief glimpse of colour. The vibrant dash moved to disappear behind the reactor tower and, with a hint of reluctance, the gunslinger made to follow.

Warm currents teased ebony strands to send them wisping past his nose as he once more approached the pits of bubbling luminescence, but the increased sensation of nausea coiling in his stomach was all but overshadowed by his discovery. Black-winged brows rose to disappear behind the heights of his bandanna as blood-red eyes locked with his playful and elusive target, and Vincent couldn't help but wonder if he was still dreaming – or if he ever woke from his damnable coffin at all.

A lone daffodil drifted and twirled upon rising Mako vapours, the plucked flower making a merry dance as it spun in a pirouette of petals before him. He watched the drifting bulb with glazed eyes before, ever so slowly, he moved to catch the flower with unsteady fingers.

A grinding of bone immediately halted his actions and he jerked to clasp his left shoulder, pain screaming through the upper extremity like liquid fire. The sensation radiated through his arm and sent wicked talons twitching in an agonised seizure before slowly falling still with his slumped shoulder. Cautiously prising long fingers from his now immediately prominent injury, he let his gauntlet hang limp before once more turning his attention to the flower head dancing afore his eyes in a near mocking ballet.

As the Mako vapours began to lighten, he watched the butter-coloured blossom falter in its tottering adagio and the gunslinger was quick to react, approaching the reactor railings in a lithe stride. Stretching out his right hand with care so as this time not to raise his left shoulder, he deftly caught the daffodil stem between gloved thumb and forefinger. His hand hovered in a moment of stunned clarity before he brought the sunny bloom from its vapour confinement, holding the flower close to his face as he inspected the splay of petals and corona.

He'd anticipated grasping thin air. Expected an illusion. Instead, he held proof of his grounded reality in the affirmation and form of an innocent, child-like flower.

His memory suddenly recalled a smiling Marlene standing in the daffodil fields at the foot of Mt. Corel, the recollection of the cheery child hanging one of the summery flowers from the front of Denzel's brown button up shirt fresh in his mind. Vincent blinked, his focus moving from his inspection of the delicate petals to the crumbling cliffs above. Mind filling in the blanks, he drew the fragrant flower into the folds of his cloak with care, intent on returning the lost property come gift to its rightful owner and intended recipient. His lopsided shoulder gave a pang of protest as he withdrew his hand from beneath the snapped buckles, the bone feeling like molten lead and he fought a grimace through grit teeth as vitriolic voices hissed and spat in the back of his head. Suddenly aware of the sickness coursing through his veins like acid, the gunslinger spun on his heel to follow after the party, turning his back on the glowering Mako deposits behind him.

After expressions of relief were shared towards Vincent's well-being on approach, (Marlene especially by scampering up to take hold of his long legs in an ardent hug much to the stiffened gunslinger's chagrin,) the group agreed to catch up later when the crimson-cloaked man served to remind them of the approaching twilight with a quiet yet simple, "Night falls."

Moving on to cross the railway tracks, both children walking hand in hand with their respective guardians, the team soon dissolved into nervous and idle banter; a familiarity shared from their AVALANCHE days whenever they'd come out on top from a particularly trying ordeal. Nanaki lead the party while Cait Sith took point to act as scout from atop his head, the fire-dog walking with nose raised to welcome scents outside that of the cloying redolence of Mako. Fresh air found only at mountain altitude greeted them as did the vague yet smoky, distinct smell of coal, an entire heritage of mining hidden deep within Mt. Corel's rich caverns and tall peaks. As they journeyed onward, Vincent caught sight of Tifa occasionally turning back to cast him a discreet glance under furrowed brows.

Passing the stairs which led to the reactor's viewpoint and cliff where Vincent and Denzel had hung so precariously from, the group emerged from the man-made gorge to find a grand valley stretching out before them under the heights of an extensive railroad track. As his teammates stood on the adjoining red-bricked bridge to marvel at the sight, Barret's eye caught the back of a crooked sign standing by the cliffside like a lonely scarecrow. Gently nudging Marlene towards Tifa and Yuffie without a word, the gun-armed man stomped down the small set of cracked granite steps to inspect the notice which faced out towards the path leading to the town of Corel. Leaning around the signpost situated just next to the bridge's small archway to view its front, he scanned the barely legible scratches with a furrowed brow. Shaking his head with a scarcely contained snort, he turned to peer up at the rest of the vista-admiring party.

"Yo, Yuffie!"

The ninja in question turned from her whispers into the ear of a grinning Marlene to shoot the dark-skinned man a raised brow. Barret simply raised one of his own back, crossing his arms as the mischievous look on his little girl's face melted into one of embarrassment. She looked every bit like the child who'd just had their hand caught in the cookie jar. Dismissing his daughter's bashful shuffle, he instead turned his attention back to the awaiting adolescent.

"You still got that green marker pen?" he called out over the detailed conversation Tifa and Nanaki were currently engaged in.

Yuffie's brow raised to disappear under her headband before she hopped down from her perch on the bridge to join the ex-AVALANCHE leader. "Yeah, why? What's it to you?"

"Jes' givvit 'ere, would ya?" Barret said with an upturned palm, patience long since worn thin. Yuffie planted her hands on her hips to shoot him an indignant glare but eventually ruffled through the small satchel affixed to her belt. Pulling out a thin cylinder, she spun it around her fingers before planting it into the awaiting man's hand.

"Whatever, just... give it back, okay?" With that she spun on her heel and returned to Marlene's side, the girl now preoccupied with pointing out distant landscapes to an eager Cait Sith and curious albeit somewhat shaken Denzel who followed her animated finger with skepticism.

"Says tha damn Materia thief..." Barret grumbled under his breath, taking a moment to run thick fingers through his coarse beard. Uncapping the pen the ninja had previously used to try and switch Tifa's Cure Materia for a green coloured billiard ball, the gruff man turned to once more approach the sign. Reaching up, he began to scribble over its weathered surface in fast and furious strokes as the party's conversation continued; voices rising up to filter through the cliff gap and surrounding Vincent in an echo of talk and tinkling laughter as he slowly brought up the group's rear.

Taking measured strides, the gunslinger lingered in the shadows of the gorge as pain seared his shoulder like a branding iron. Refreshing mountain air teased the tattered ends of his cape as crimson eyes burned in the darkness, watching the backs of the party with tactical intent; the daffodil burning a hole in his cape to match the blaze of his injury. He took a cautionary step forward as Marlene bent down to scoop Cait Sith into her arms, leaving Denzel's side to join an impatient Yuffie and not-so-impatient Red. Sensing an opening, he unveiled himself from the shadows just as Tifa hopped up the nearby granite stairs. Beating him to the boy's side, she spoke down to the orphan with a light albeit somewhat troubled grin before reaching down to take his hand.

Vincent paused; Barret heard thundering up the steps before he was seen as he tossed a marker pen into the air to then snatch it soundly within a huge fist. Looking to the woman and boy, he jabbed his finger in the direction of the rail line with a jerk of his head following the motion. Tifa nodded with a quirk of a smile and moved on, guiding a clearly hesitant Denzel over the long track ahead. The gruff ex-AVALANCHE leader watched them go with an air Vincent not only recognised, but understood all too well. Silent, he strode up from behind the hulking man to stand by his side.

"... You watchin' over 'em, too?" Barret sniffed, rubbing under his wide nose with the thick index finger of his left hand. Crimson eyes shifted from Tifa and Denzel's back to meet those of burnt umber.

"… One could say that," he eventually replied.

"Jes' as cryptic as ever. If anythin', I'd say it's them who've bin' watchin' over you."

Vincent blinked, the machine gunner's astuteness taking him off-guard. He mulled over the man's words while Barret turned towards him with a hand raised towards his cloaked shoulder, but after a moment of cool regard, let it fall to rest once more by his side. Trudging forward with the gait and leisure not unlike that of a Nibel Bear, the dark-skinned man followed after the woman that was his old friend and the child she'd taken into her care, leaving the gunslinger alone with his distorted thoughts.

And his many voices.

"Yo."

Before Chaos had the chance to whisper sweet leeches and oil-coated words into his ear, a brash voice pulled him from the demon's claws. Barret narrowed his eyes over his shoulder, having paused in his trek to watch him for a moment before grumbling out, "... You did'a good job back there. 'Preciate it."

With that, he continued on his merry way. Vincent watched him go, immediately wary of Barret's change of behaviour but even more so of the great-horned demon bristling within his skull. With a flutter of terrible spiked wings that made his heart stutter, Chaos oozed into the deep, dark recesses of his mind with dangerous irritation. Vincent closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, softly exhaling to calm the palpitations to his heart as his demons squirmed uncomfortably under his skin. They growled and murmured an unsettling choir of discord and madness, stirring insanity and setting anxiety to fester and rot inside his muddled brain.

The ivory plane flashed once more behind closed eyelids and Vincent shook his head with a sharp twist, causing a searing flare of pain to shoot out from his collarbone. Using the burning discomfort to his benefit, the gunslinger focused and strode forward with a fought grimace and fell into step behind a now distant Barret, following the group's unintentional entourage of Tifa and Denzel whilst trying to ignore the female phantasm haunting his mind.

Halfway past the tracks, the acidic tide in his blood ebbed to a biting trickle and relinquished its nauseating hold, allowing the gunslinger to breathe easy once again. Easing his stride, Vincent took a moment to pause and relish the salubrious taste of mountain air as it teased the ends of his ebony mane. Turning back to take one last look at the discreetly active Mako Reactor, his crimson eyes caught an orange coloured sign standing under the end of the tracks and to the side of its trestles. Head falling with a slight tilt, Vincent narrowed his gold-flecked gaze. His attention was not so much captured by the notice itself, but rather, the bold graffiti scribbled over the top in thick strokes.

Scanning the signpost's original text of, 'Warning! Unstable area!', the crimson-cloaked man then turned his attention to the angry scratches of marker pen that overlaid the black lettering.

A black brow slowly rose to brush against the fringe of his bandanna and Vincent couldn't help but give a brief shake of his head. Spinning on gold-plated heels, the gunslinger turned in a whorl of tattered crimson and walked away from the sign, leaving Barret's fresh inked scrawl of, 'NO SHIT,' to dry in crude graffiti behind him.

"""

~ oOo ~

"""

Across the vast and grand curving tracks, the party journeyed onward. Tifa clutched Denzel's hand tightly in her own as together they carefully traversed the arching railway lines, their heights reaching the very pinnacle of the mountains which framed them as their peaks were set to burn in the rapidly declining sun; the canvas sky splashed in a wash of pastel colours. Reaching a fork in the rails, the left arching high while the right dipped low, Tifa favoured the route with less height and guided herself and Denzel to a more comfortable altitude. Their path ended swiftly however as they came upon a small drawbridge risen over a tranquil river, the waters carrying the vague scent of the sea as gentle currents lapped at the supporting railway structure with a contented lull. Yuffie and Red XIII, the latter of which who also bore Cait Sith and Marlene as his passengers, were already there, peering up at the arch bridge situated just next to their position on the lower bridge's abutment.

Heavy steps alerted the fighter to Barret's presence and Tifa turned to catch him eyeing the small wooden shack attached to the winding railroad tracks lifted high across the water. Tracing the hugging mountain lines around to cross back over the taller arch bridge, she caught her old friend mumbling something about drawbridge controls before he turned around and began to retrace his steps to take the left fork in their previously trodden path. Yuffie turned to glance at his back, but did a double take as her eyes suddenly lit up with an accompanying snap of her fingers.

"Err, hey, hold up! I remember this place! I wanna go check something!" The ninja had barely blurted out her intentions before she skipped after a hulking Barret, her energy infectious as she shot Tifa a beaming grin which the woman couldn't help but return: even if it was tenfold weaker. Nanaki paused to allow Marlene to dismount from her seat below his shoulder blades before he chased after the rambunctious teenager, the unmistakable air of intrigue synonymous with the fire-dog evident in the passionate fall of his paws – as well as his insatiable thirst for knowledge. Cait Sith waved a white gloved hand to Tifa as he passed by on Red's head and the fighter shook her own with a soft smile.

The soft warmth of Denzel's hand slid from her fingers and she looked down to find the small boy beckoned over by a curious Marlene, the little girl pointing up to the ribs of the arch bridge and causing the orphan to crane his neck up to follow her pointed finger. Speaking with a sweet and jolly chime about maybe seeing the daffodil fields that lay further down river, she grabbed her best friend's hand and began to follow after her father. Tifa stifled a laugh when Denzel's cheeks were set to burn like the surrounding mountains as he was dragged away and she took careful watch of the young pair as they made their way up the sloping tracks. Catching the figures of Barret, Red XIII, and Yuffie flicker out from behind the arch bridge's ribs as they crossed over with a trailing Denzel and Marlene, Tifa took a moment to enjoy the rare respite of solitude as well as the sight of her friends; to those who didn't know any better, it was the scene of a picture-perfect family.

The serenity of the river coupled with the rhythmic lap of its currents soothed some of the tension in her shoulders; even as the young ninja's noisy jubilance about a nest of baby chicks was carried on the wind. Looking upstream, Tifa turned to the bridge's edge to gaze into the water. A half moon shone brightly over the flowing surface and hung over her reflection like a lunar halo, light pinks and pastel purples of the twilight sky shimmering over the liquid blue as small stars dotted the steady currents.

Russet eyes gazed deep into the water, a sense of calm washing over the fighter even as her mind rippled with worry much like the body of the ever-flowing river. Troubled, she held her own gaze in the liquid mirror and searched the depths of her own image, looking for an illusive answer even as a shroud of crimson slowly rose from the deep to engulf her reflection like blood diffused through water. Before confusion could truly take hold, an unmistakable image formed behind her own over the rippling surface and she spun around to meet the undistorted counterpart of Vincent Valentine.

Stepping back as she almost slammed straight into his chest, the edge of her heel met that of the bridge's and she stumbled to right herself even as a leather gloved hand shot out to steady her. Straightening from her near fall, she shot the gunslinger an incredulous glare but when his hand remained wrapped around the rough skin of her elbow, it softened into one of dubious concern.

"... Vincent?" she breathed, a tilt of her head seeking out his own. When he remained in averting his gaze, she pulled her elbow from the firm grip of his hand to place her own over her hips. Turning away, she huffed out, "You really need to stop scaring people like that."

Sensing her words applied to more than just the current happenstance, Vincent paused. Peering at her back from over his tall cowl, he watched as fine chocolate locks swayed with the soft breeze. Eventually, he rumbled out, "It was not my intention."

Tifa continued to stand with her back to him, though her hands had now moved to grip her elbows as she hugged her arms under her chest. Sensing her dismissal, Vincent stood almost awkwardly as he contemplated his options. It was clear he had somehow angered the fighter, yet in attempting to right his wrongs he also risked in overstepping his boundaries. He did not want to push Tifa Lockhart; for he knew very well that she was well-inclined to push right back.

Or indeed, punch.

He fought the urge to rub his jaw at the memory and instead focused on her rigid posture – Tifa's cold shoulder almost balancing his own engulfed in flame. A sudden bubble of laughter from the taller bridge caught the fighter's attention and she turned slightly to catch Denzel attempting to hide his grin behind a moss-green hoodie sleeve. Vincent also turned to witness the rare sight, an overjoyed Marlene encouraged by the boy's reaction and continuing her mimicry of what appeared to be a very good imitation of her father's gait.

The delicate daffodil hidden within the inner pockets of his cape suddenly burned even more fiercely than his shoulder and Vincent narrowed his eyes in thought, his attempts to catch the boy unaccompanied coming to naught. Suddenly, a voice from the past resonated in his head and he froze at the notion forming in his mind.

… Could he truly pass up an opportunity to make penance?

Turning to the woman at his side, he blinked when he caught her observing him with a light frown, the shimmer of her russet eyes resting on his sloping shoulder. Gently attempting to raise his gauntlet with a discreet pull of his shoulder blade, Tifa narrowed her eyes and met his gaze with an accusatory brow. Before she had a chance to question his actions, Vincent reached up and slipped his hand beneath the snapped buckles of his cloak to disappear into the depths of his cape. The fighter could only stare as her frown melted into one of confusion, and the gunslinger had to hide his bubble of amusement when her expression changed just as quickly to that of surprise when he pulled out his chosen item from its hiding place.

Drawing the sunny flower from crimson folds, he gingerly pinched the daffodil between gloved thumb and forefinger before cautiously holding it out towards the stunned fistfighter.

"... I believe this belongs to Denzel," he offered as her mouth continued to hang open in a silent 'O'. Lips drawing together, Tifa blessed him with a genuine smile as she reached out to pluck the presented blossom from his fingertips. A brief warmth of contact was exchanged as her hand brushed against his and she cradled the delicate flower close to her chest as she caressed its silky smooth petals. Glancing up from her study of the orange corona, she graced him once more with a smile so warm that it melted away all ice from her previous composure.

"... Thank you."

Vincent nodded, his gaze momentarily diverted from the golden flower in the fighter's hand by Barret's wave of triumph from opposite the river. A sudden whirring of gears met his ears and the drawbridge behind Tifa juddered into movement before it began to lower with a churn of metal and steel. The fighter turned around to catch Barret flashing her a colossal thumb's up and she waved back, watching her old friend squeeze out of the cramped shack that served to hold the drawbridge controls. The gunslinger's own attention was pre-occupied with a determined Yuffie as he watched her scale the cliffs across the river with a raised brow. Secretly impressed by the way Nanaki followed after using his protracted claws as a climbing aid, it took him a moment to realise Tifa now stood halfway across the lowered bascule bridge and appeared to be waiting for him.

Turning his attention back to the fighter, he followed and she averted her gaze to roll the daffodil stem between her fingers with a slightly furrowed brow. Sensing she wished to ask him a question, Vincent paused and patiently waited for her to do so. Finally, after a few more twirls of the flower, she spoke.

"Vincent," she began. "Why didn't you just give this back to Denzel yourself?"

A beat passed before he responded, "... The opportunity did not present itself."

Tifa nodded in silence, appearing to accept his answer though the troubled crease to her brow remained. Turning away to continue over the bridge, she missed the rare flitter of hesitation that crossed the gunslinger's face. After a moment, Vincent continued.

"Also... I felt that perhaps... you should keep it, instead."

Tifa stopped. Turning around from hanging the daffodil from the front utility pouch of her duster, she blinked rapidly at the gunslinger as he coolly strode up beside her, making a point to avoid her russet gaze as she scrutinised him for any sign or flicker of emotion. Finding nothing in his steeled composure, the fighter was about to pry further when Vincent explained himself. "Denzel may be so careless as to lose it again."

Tifa simply stared at him before she finally shook her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Okay," she said, a teasing lilt to her voice that made the aloof man raise a black wing of an eyebrow. "I'll hold onto it for him." Vincent nodded in response and was about to walk away when the fighter continued. "You know... sometimes it's okay to ask for help, Vincent." The gunslinger paused once more and Tifa looked up through her lashes, holding his crimson eyes with her own of russet. Tucking a lock of chocolate hair behind her ear, she turned to watch Barret balk at a giggling Denzel and Marlene as they circled him while stomping their feet and waving their arms – much like her old friend was wont to do when he was angry.

"You can't do everything on your own. No matter how much you like to think you can." She turned back to look up at the crimson-cloaked man for any sign of understanding, but all he gave was a slow blink in response. Tifa almost snorted, but instead settled for a shake of her head. "Just... don't push people away so much. Or you might find they'll start pushing back."

Vincent remained silent.

Sauntering forward with a brush of leather duster at black-booted heels, Tifa began to cross the lowered bridge with much more ease than the rigid posture she'd upheld for the past few hours. Vincent mulled over her words like a fine wine as he turned his gaze towards the sky, the half moon glowing amongst a blend of faded rainbow pastels. Tifa's recent behaviour suddenly slid into focus as did, to a lesser extent, Denzel's; but before he had a chance to fully ruminate over his findings, Tifa's voice once more called him to attention.

"... And Vincent?"

Pulling his gaze from the moon's luminance, he found the fighter standing in the middle of the bridge with a soft, expectant smile aimed straight at him that forced a stunned blink from his stoic countenance.

Her smile widened in response. "It's okay. I mean... we're okay."

As if suddenly realising her words, Tifa fought the heat that crept upon her cheeks before she quickly turned away to face the rest of the party at her back. "… Come on. The others are waiting."

Ignoring the warmth that spread in his chest, Vincent nodded with a phantom smile hidden behind his cowl and strode ahead to join the woman. Together they crossed the bridge side by side, the once tense air now replaced with an ease of camaraderie as they spoke softly of their surroundings and the calm it instilled after their previous ordeal.

Or, at least they did, until a certain ninja suddenly dropped down from the mountain slope to make a mad dash down the railroad tracks followed by a frantic Nanaki and screaming Cait Sith.

"MAKE WAY FOR BIG MOMMA!" Yuffie hollered, all but bowling straight into them as she scrambled past with something fluffy piled in her arms. Before Vincent or Tifa had the chance to question the teen, a shrill cry similar to that of a rooster pierced the tranquil twilight as did a string of Barret's cusses. Barrelling past with Denzel and Marlene under each arm, the ex-AVALANCHE leader shot a furious glare at the fleeing ninja.

"Yuffie, what in tha f*** did ya do?!"

"Run first, ask questions later!"

"AWW, HELL NO! YOU BETTER ANSWER ME NOW, DAMMIT!"

"JUST RUN!"

Vincent and Tifa barely took one glance behind them before the pair equally burst into a sprint, neither willing to be told twice as a flustered Cokatolis charged straight for them with its wings outstretched. As the bird gave chase and the party subsequently fled, a different kind of chorus other than the Cokatolis' shrill screech rose over the mountains and great bridge they were pursued over.

And this chorus held only one note and called only one, singular name.

"YUUUUUUFFIIIIIIIIIIIE!"