Darkness was clawing at him, wrapping itself around him and pulling him towards the opaque nothingness. But perhaps it wasn't entirely the professor's fault. After all, he made the demons. He created the darkness, not the professor. No, the professor only seized the opportunity. Vincent felt his head throb for a moment, the flash of stabbing pain that usually came and went once Chaos was gone, dulling to nothingness soon after. His back felt sore again and luckily for him, he was laying on his stomach and thus the pain could easily be dismissed. It was obvious those scars would never get the chance to heal properly like the rest of his wounds. Vincent dug his fingers, metals ones and all, into the soft mattress beneath him and opened his eyes.

A pair of brown eyes watched him back.

He blinked, almost as if to banish those two shining, toffee colored gems from his mind. Those eyes watched him calmly and with such a quiet awareness, exposing the innocence and purity that could only belong to a child. The eyes backed away, revealing the small and curious face of a girl.

Marlene, Vincent guessed.

She tipped her head to the side. There was no unease there, no apprehension, nothing save for the fearless curiosity of someone who obviously had very little years of experience. How could she possibly know to fear him? Her small hands clutched the end of the bed, dangerously close to his metal claw, yet her eyes never left his. Marlene smiled, a sight that made Vincent's lips nearly twitch upward.

"You have funny wings for an angel," she finally said.

Vincent's eyebrows raised slightly.

"Tifa said those scars on your back are from wings. But they don't have feathers. They're like bat wings."

Vincent watched her for a moment, wondering if perhaps he should dismiss her statement. But the look of childish persistence in Marlene's eyes showed that the girl would probably want an answer to that unspoken question. Angels. Barret's daughter indeed. Vincent groaned as he lifted himself upright, noting his lack of shirt, again. He leaned back on his legs and looked at the child. "I'm not an angel."

Marlene's small brow furrowed in clear disagreement. "Yes you are. You have wings."

"So do demons."

"But demons don't save people. Angels do." Marlene nodded matter-of-factly, crossing her arms, which quickly became hidden in the ruffles of her pink dress.

Just how much did Tifa tell her? Vincent felt himself smile slightly. How that girl could possibly consider him an angel was comical. He slid his legs off of the bed and placed them carefully on the floor, all the while wincing with every little shift and movement. Vincent was about to stand when he heard a quiet chuckle, followed by a few coughs and a mumbled curse. Unmistakably Cid. Leaning against the back wall was the ex-pilot, standing half hidden in shadows. No doubt his friend had been by his side for most of the night.

Sometimes I wonder why you watch over me like that, Cid.

Vincent glanced back to the girl, who seemed to be waiting for him to do something. He looked away. Her stare was so pure. "There's no angels down this far, kid."

"Yes there are." Marlene suddenly reached out and grabbed his claw, leaving no time for his usual reaction of flinching or jerking away. She pulled on him until he stood, and not until she did so did he realize how small the girl truly was. Marlene led him to the only window in the room, climbed on a wooden crate, and pushed back the shutters to reveal their underground world. She pointed upwards, to the holes in the piped covered sky, and through the openings Vincent could make out the tiny white stars of the heavens. "See? Thousands! I know we can't see 'em too well, but daddy says they watch over us." Marlene's head barely made it over the windowsill, so she stood on her toes and watched the sky with bright eyes.

"Well, there's no denyin' that sorta proof." Cid gave a weak, half-smile. Just by looking at him it was clear that he hadn't gotten much sleep.

Vincent couldn't understand how someone so young could possibly believe in something so fiercely. Perhaps he had done the same thing in his childhood. Vincent smiled faintly, in spite of himself. "All right. They're angels." Though he couldn't see it, Marlene's smile widened. He dragged his lead legs back over to the bed and collapsed on it in a crumpled mess that barely passed as a sitting position. Of all the things to show me, she shows me angels... He frowned and looked over at Cid's tired face.

"I didn't... I didn't do anything to you, did I?"

Cid's face creased with his usual brash grin. "What, these little scratches? They were from the Turks, not you. You didn't do nothin' to me, Vin. Hell, you didn't have the chance to. You went down after..." He shifted awkwardly and his grin faltered somewhat. "Well, you know..." He shuffled over to his friend, all the while glancing to Marlene, who seemed to be occupied by the angels, and he lowered his voice. "You okay?"

Vincent's head sagged lower. "It's getting harder to change back."

His friend closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head. "Don't say that, Vin."

Vincent didn't look back at Cid, didn't bother to ask where they were, didn't give another thought as to what terrible things were going through the minds of Avalanche at this very moment. He didn't want to know. Vincent only watched Marlene as she reached her hand out through the open window, as if to touch the far away stars.

"It must be nice...to believe."

"That thing..." Tifa paced back and forth, limping as she went and holding herself tightly, as if it was the only thing keeping her from going everywhere at once. It took most of the day to get back to the 7th Heaven, and now she, Cid and the rest of Avalanche, minus Jessie and Marlene, were gathered around the bar. Barret had demanded that she stay off her leg, but her wounded foot was the last thing on her mind. Tifa looked over at Cid for answers.

He nodded to her, a cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth. He was grateful that Jessie wasn't around to take it from him. She had briefly said something about fixing Vincent's shirt. All Cid heard, however, was that she was gone and a cigarette had replaced her. He happily took a puff. "Chaos."

Tifa was only half-listening, most of her thoughts lost to demons. "What?"

"Vincent calls 'im Chaos. One of his most powerful demons."

Tifa looked up instantly. "There's more than one in him?"

"Three more, other than Chaos." Cid inspected his newly made spear with satisfaction. It had taken him most of the day to make that metal pole into something that could pass as a weapon. A few cigarettes and some extra gadgets later and Cid had a good, sturdy spear in case anymore Turks decided to appear out of nowhere again. "The first one we found was Galian." Cid rolled the smooth pole of his weapon between the palms of his hands as he mused aloud, mostly to himself. "He's kinda quiet, though. Haven't heard from him in a while. Maybe Chaos ate 'im..."

Tifa stopped pacing with a wince. "Ate him?"

"The second's called Gigas. That one's got one helluva sense of humor. Not so much as "ha-ha" funny, though." Cid's voice answered, muffled as he puffed on his cigarette. "Then there's the Hellmasker. Heh. There's a funny story that goes along with that name..." Cid glanced back to Tifa's troubled expression and he smiled weakly. "Maybe later." He quickly switched his spear to his left hand and took his cigarette from out his mouth thoughtfully. "Huh. Ya know what? We haven't seen those two in a while, either."

"Maybe Chaos ate them, too," Tifa stated flatly.

Cid snorted. "Hell, yeah, maybe he did. Of course then there're two possible outcomes with that theory." He looked over his cigarette with a grunt, then placed it back between his lips. "Either it's a good thing 'cause now there's only one demon in 'im..."

Tifa watched him hesitantly. "Or?"

"Or it's bad 'cause now Chaos is super-powerful-demon and he's gonna go super-powerful-demon on everyone's asses."

Tifa groaned. That was the last thing she needed to hear. Obviously Cid didn't know the meaning of the word comfort. She sat down behind the counter and placed her fingers on its smooth wood. "It can't be that bad. I mean, as long as he can control it..." She looked up at the ex-pilot and he turned his head in the opposite direction. Tifa felt herself shiver. "He can control it...right?"

Cid coughed.

Barret, who had been tinkering with his gun-arm throughout most of the conversation, immediately snapped his face up in Cid's direction. His hard eyes widened slightly and the new expression on his face, which quickly replaced his attentive look, was enough to make even Cid cringe. "You mean that damn thing can come out at any time?"

Cid tried to keep himself from biting down on his cigarette. "Didn't you people hear what I said before?" He took the slender stick from out of his mouth and smothered it on the counter, leaving a small ring of black ash around the upright cigarette. He mumbled something under his breath and met with Barret's stare. "I said that it only happens when he's mad or - shit, you act like he's friggin' Hyde or somethin'! Trust me, there's nothin' you people can do that can make Chaos show up."

Tifa allowed her head to be cradled by her hands. "I'm sorry, Cid. I should have listened to you when you told us to leave." When she looked up again, through strands of her hair she could see that Cid had pulled himself up on the counter and was now sitting on it, besides her.

He placed a gloved hand on her shoulder; it was a rather awkward gesture from him, but she was thankful that he was thoughtful enough to do it. "Hell, it's not your fault, kid. Can't say I would've done different if I were you." Cid reached into his packet of cigarettes, but a hand shot out from the right of him and snatched it away.

"What did I say about these?"

Surprised, and one inch away from tumbling backwards off of the counter, Cid swung around in time to see Jessie, with Marlene next to her. They had came from a small room on the left side of bar; so small, in fact, that if they hadn't suddenly appeared there, he never would have noticed it. Then again, he pretty much didn't notice a lot of other rooms in Tifa's tavern.

Jessie's bright smile spread across her face as she waved the cigarette packet before him. "Now, if you're done slowly killing yourself with tobacco, your friend is waiting for you." Vincent's black shirt was draped over her shoulder and she now had Cid's cigarettes in her right hand's grip. "I ought to through 'em out this time..." She tucked the packet behind her ear and walked past them to the makeshift elevator. With a quick pull of the plunger, the pinball machine and the metal panel beneath it lowered Jessie to the floor below.

Cid immediately jumped off of the counter and clumsily ran after her, cursing softly when the vacant space of the elevator shaft was all that watched him back. He glanced to Barret, who now had Marlene on his lap. It was obvious that he wasn't going anywhere. Tifa, on the other hand, stood up quietly and limped over to Cid.

Cid shifted next to her. "Uh... You need any help?"

Tifa shook her head. "Jessie made some potions for it earlier." She stepped onto the metal panel once the pinball machine rose up again. "It should be fine in no time." She stuck out her foot and wiggled it for emphasis. "Besides," Tifa smiled slightly, "I heal fast."

Cid snorted and pulled the plunger.

As the panel lowered itself, Tifa leaned on the pinball machine, her hands behind her back and most of her weight shifted to her left leg. The darkness chased away the glow from above as they made their quick descent to the lower level. But for a brief moment, there was nothing but darkness and red, blinking lights. Tifa closed her eyes. It wasn't like the darkness in her dream; this was calming, tranquil. She enjoyed it for the short time that it was there. Once she opened her eyes, of course, the ceiling lights in the room below overpowered the darkness. But didn't light always do that?

"You all right, kid?"

Tifa blinked. She had been hearing that question more often than she would have liked. She wasn't some silly, helpless girl. Still, she was taken aback by Cid's concern. Tifa didn't think he really cared about anything, other than Valentine. But in the past few days, she had learned that many things she had first thought true were now completely wrong. Tifa watched Cid for a moment, his gruff face slightly scraped and bruised, the collar of his blue jacket turned upright, those funny looking goggles on top of his messy hair. Cid was truly a sight to see.

But she was happy that he was there.

Tifa didn't look at Cid anymore. It didn't matter how many people asked her if she was fine or not, she would always be lying with her answer. Never mind the fact that Vincent was waiting, or that the "elevator" had stopped some time ago, Cid wanted her reply for some reason. Tifa shrugged somewhat. "I don't know." Of course Cid's question had about a thousand other little hidden meanings within it. What the hell was with Vincent and Cid and their never-ending oblique questions?

Cid waved his hand in front of his face, as if to dismiss what was just said. The one thing good about him was that he never wasted more time than was necessary. Tifa supposed he wasn't one for the overly complicated. She was grateful.

They walked (with all the junk that was scattered across the floor, it was more that they trudged) through the basement, to the left wall, where Avalanche's rooms were located. Cid gave a passing glance over to the computer on the far right, maps and disks spread all around the little workstation. He smiled. Jessie was as sloppy as any man, it seemed. Cid briefly considered poking around the hard drives and strange contraptions for his cigarettes. With a small sigh, Cid brushed the thought aside. That girl probably had his cigarettes around her neck by now, like some sort of glorified emblem.

It wasn't much of a surprise when Cid spotted the old, rusted "no smoking" sign, poking out from in-between the maps on the wall.

Tifa stopped at the last door of the row. She didn't go in; she only stood before it, looking at it with the same watchful look that she gave most things. "After this is over..." Her voice brought Cid back to reality. Tifa didn't look at him, she simply kept her eyes fixed on the door before her, her hand on the knob, as if she wanted to open it but couldn't find the courage within herself to do so. "What will happen to him?"

Cid didn't answer her question. It was obvious he was avoiding the inevitable, but Cid was never one to think of the consequences. Instead of answering her, Cid stepped besides the girl and watched her with clear, blue eyes. "He's gone, Tifa." It was a final statement, one that seemed to be said only to crush any shred of hope that Tifa had of being with him. How could she be with a ghost? How could she even consider it?

She knew what he had meant by that, and she didn't want to hear it. Not now, not when everything she had ever believed in and everyone she had ever loved was fading away.

"Shit, the only reason he lives is to kill Hojo. Outta all the jobs we've had, after all we've been through, he couldn't let go. How could he? How do you forget somethin' like that?" He licked his lips. "He's still lookin' for Hojo, I think. All the places and all the people, everyone he's killed... He really wanted 'em to be Hojo." The man scoffed, rubbing his hands together, dried blood peeling away. "Hell, then you came along with this Cloud Strife shit. He doesn't need to be reminded of ShinRa."

Cloud Strife. Yes. She had almost forgotten. That's why Vincent Valentine was here, after all.

"You agreed to this! I didn't make you do this, Cid!" Tifa bit down on her tongue. It wasn't like she made them join with her - they needed the work and they needed the money and it was as simple as that. But nothing is simple. She breathed in slowly. "If he finds another reason... I mean...we could show him!" Tifa flinched at her own words. Why was she so angry? Perhaps she didn't like how hopeless Cid was making this sound. Vincent said he would find Cloud. But what if Vincent wasn't there to? She knew that wasn't the real reason why she needed Vincent around, but the real reason frightened her. At the moment, the lie seemed much less complicated.

Cid lowered his head and Tifa could no longer see his eyes once the shadows covered them. "Show him what?" His voice was strangely quiet. Cid had thought about this many times, of course, but he could never bring himself to imagine how the end would be. Vincent would find Hojo; he wanted to, so he would. But what would he do when it was all said and done? Cid felt himself shudder.

It suddenly felt as if Vincent was slipping further away.

Tifa pressed her hand on the door. "We'll open his eyes - we'll make him see that's there's more."

How ridiculously simple she made it seem.

"Open his eyes? To what? This world's far from beautiful, Teef."

He was right. She looked away from the scruffy ex-pilot and watched the door again, as if she could see Vincent through it. Maybe he was watching her back, like he always did, with that expression she could never quite place.

'It's only as beautiful as you make it, right?'

Hadn't her mother once said that to her?

Cid said nothing more and Tifa was relieved that he didn't. Had Vincent really fallen that far? Tifa certainly didn't know all of the details to what really happened between Vincent and Hojo, but she knew enough to draw her own conclusions. She had never met Hojo, but if she ever did...

Tifa opened the door, hesitantly peeking her head inside. A most bewildered looking Vincent was sitting on the edge of the bed, Jessie standing near him and poking at different spots on the bounty hunter's chest. Tifa tried but couldn't suppress the laugh that forced its way past her lips. The conversation with Cid and all of the weighty thoughts that had accompanied it seemed to melt away for the moment.

Cid pushed the door open just as Jessie turned around. He visibly winced. "Aw, what the hell are you doin' to him, girl? There's no button on his body that makes the wings come out!"

Jessie simply smiled. "I was making sure he was healed. And I'm giving him back his shirt, which I fixed and now looks better than before, might I add." She motioned for Vincent to stand up. When he did, however, and towered over her like an oak, the young woman told him to sit down again. She slipped his shirt back on him, obviously enjoying doing so, just as Cid strode up to her and stuck his hand out.

"Is there something you want?" Jessie stared at the ex-pilot blankly.

"Cigarettes. Hand 'em over."

"Do I look like a vending machine to you?" Jessie fixed the collar of Vincent's black shirt, buttoned a few buttons for him, smoothed out what wrinkles she could and turned around to Tifa, completely ignoring Cid. "How's your leg?"

Cid frowned.

Tifa smiled. "It's better." She moved her foot, noticing that it felt nearly normal again. She hadn't realized how well it had healed before, with all that had been happening. "Your potions work wonders, Jessie."

"You're lucky that the bullet missed all the important stuff." Jessie gave her friend a pat on the shoulder, winked at Vincent and, while still pretending that Cid no longer existed on the face of the planet, left the room. When the door shut, however, Jessie's muffled voice came soon after. "You'll get 'em back when you leave."

The ex-pilot groaned, one hand tapping his spear against the concrete floor, the other scratching the back of his head. Cid was obviously debating something in his head and with a grunt seemingly made his choice. He nodded to Vincent and Tifa. "I'll be back in a moment, Valentine." Cid shouldered his spear, a look of fierce determination in his eyes, and slammed the door shut on his way out.

Tifa grimaced with the loud noise that followed and she didn't open her eyes until the reverberation had faded to silence once more. That's when it hit her, much like the proverbial smack across the face. And it wasn't until her eyes met with his did the thought truly sink into her mind.

She was alone with him.

What the hell was she supposed to say? Tifa felt her cheeks flush with anger. She didn't want this, probably wanted it even less than Vincent did. And there he was, calmly sitting there like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Though she supposed that this was ordinary for him. Tifa wondered how long he would watch her with impassive eyes before he had to blink. Maybe forever. Her fingernails pierced the palms of her hands. She didn't have forever.

What are you, exactly? Despite her own mind's persistent nag for her to look away, to close her eyes, to turn around and leave, Tifa couldn't break that stone-like gaze that seemed to connect them at the moment.

"I'm human, Tifa. At least, that's what they first think."

Tifa felt a chill run down her spine when his soft voice interrupted her thoughts. How did he-? Was it possible that he could read minds? Tifa banished the idea. Vincent was a lot of things, but a mind reader?

Vincent noticed the slightly bemused look on Tifa's pretty face. A frown touched his lips, a fleeting one, and then it was back to his usual impassive expression. He couldn't read thoughts, of course, but the question had been so clearly displayed across her face that he might as well have been able to.

Tifa squinted her eyes at him. "They?"

"They. Everyone."

"What do you say?"

Vincent looked down at his hands, one made of flesh, the other of metal. He knew what he was. It was hard to escape the truth when it was all around him, when it was him, reflecting in the eyes of normal people.

He looked back up at Tifa as she stood over him, waiting for an answer she probably already knew.Her eyes revealed things that he couldn't understand. Vincent reached out to her with his right hand, almost wishing that he could make the other one disappear from sight, if only for a moment. His fingers curled slightly when they brushed against her cheek.

Tifa grabbed his arm, if only to keep him from leaving.

He smiled; there was something bitter there.

"Haven't you heard? I'm a monster."