Lariat

The sixtieth floor might as well have been heaven to Vincent. It was just as untouchable, just as impossible to reach.

Vincent could feel the pull of Tifa's hand as she struggled to keep up with his fast pace. He slowed down a bit. Why was he walking so fast anyway? It didn't matter. The only way off this floor was the stairwell they had abandoned. He could no longer hear the soldiers' heavy boots, only the surprised cries of the ShinRa office workers, who were of little threat to him. Much to his surprise, however, the employees moved out of his way and never once tried to stop him. Of course, he and the rest of Avalanche were carrying heavy artillery. Smart people.

But that didn't solve their dilemma. There were a growing number of guards behind them and fifteen floors ahead of them. What made matters worse was that if they somehow arrived at the sixtieth floor, they would have no means of continuing forward. No, not if. When. Still, the keycard would be useless. Vincent guided Tifa to another hallway, shoving aside the office workers who didn't move away quickly enough. With a swift glance back, he could see Cid and Barret a few feet behind.

Could I break the door down then? It could take some time to do that. But we don't have time- Vincent's thoughts were shattered by the sound of gunfire, which Barret and Cid behind him gladly returned. The ground besides his foot exploded by - by something and he grabbed Tifa's hand even tighter and rounded another corner; he could hear Barret and Cid jump behind the wall's safety along with him and Tifa, both narrowly missing another round of enemy fire.

Vincent looked down the hallway to see a wall and rows of office doors on either side. A dead-end. He looked across to the other hallway to the left of them. Elevators. Vincent felt a bit more hopeful. If they could make it over there... But that didn't guarantee that the elevator wouldn't be full of ShinRa guards. Vincent cursed softly. The stairwell they had left was now most likely swarmed with soldiers, so even if they had found a way to double back, they never would have made it to the next floor.

There was nowhere else to go.

The gunfire went on intermission for a brief moment and there was enough of a pause for Vincent to hear the dead silence behind them. Then there was clicking, followed by a man's commanding voice. Reloaded. Aiming. Ready.

Like good soldiers.

"We're trapped, Vincent." Tifa didn't look at her bounty hunter. She only kept her eyes on the rifle in her hands with a steadfast resolution. She supposed that it worked similar to Vincent's nine-millimeter semiautomatics. It was an automatic, wasn't it? She'd been finding herself missing good old hand-to-hand combat a little too often these past few days.

Vincent lifted his Winchester's strap over his head and crouched down besides the wall, peering around the corner, only to see two dozen or so guards aiming guns back at him. Four against twenty-four.

"Heh. Just like old times, eh, Vin?" Cid laughed, looking past the corner as well, then shooting his borrowed rifle with fairly good accuracy. He heard a guard's grunt, then a body hitting the ground. "At least we'll take a few bastards to hell with us." He cocked the gun.

Another round of steady gunfire ensued, forcing Cid to pull away from the corner. It had Vincent wondering if perhaps they were trying to destroy the wall to get to them. He raised a dark eyebrow. Why were they firing at the damned wall? The ShinRa guards had to have known their building's layout. They had to have known that Avalanche and their two bounty hunters had just cornered themselves, had just delivered themselves into their awaiting hands. Vincent shifted uncomfortably. Perhaps they did know. Perhaps they were simply playing with them. He definitely didn't like where those thoughts led him.

"I ain't ready to die, got that? So find a damn way out!" Barret slammed the wall with his left hand's fist and let go a few shots from his gun -arm before he had to duck behind the wall again. A large chunk of plaster fell and shattered on the ground. "Shit, this doesn't look good." Their position was a terrible one. Whatever shots they were lucky enough to get off didn't have the luxury of a clear target - there was only time enough to look around the corner, shoot the bullet and duck behind to safety, all in the span of a few seconds. The big man glanced back to Tifa, who was staring wide-eyed at the elevators at the end of the hallway across from them. "Tifa?"

The gunfire stopped. No doubt they were reloading once more. Vincent watched Tifa as she watched the elevators. Did she want them to run to one? Did she think they had a chance? The look on Tifa's face made him feel uneasy suddenly. Vincent opened his mouth, as if to ask her, only to hear what Tifa obviously had been dreading from those large, metal doors.

"They're coming up from the elevators!" Tifa turned around for her rifle and began shooting the still closed doors of one of the elevators.

There was a nearly comical ding.

They held their breaths.

In a heartbeat, Vincent was besides her, his two nine-millimeters drawn in both of his hands and firing at the second elevator's doors. Once they split apart, however, he grabbed a still firing Tifa and yelled for Cid and Barret. He couldn't hear his own words above the gunfire, which had started again almost as soon as Tifa's words left her lips. But Cid heard his voice well enough. They ran into one of the corner offices, narrowly missing the second group of ShinRa soldiers swarming in from the elevators. The first few guards standing behind the elevator's metal doors had died, of course, the bullets rendering them pincushions; they knew they would, their men knew they would. It was their job, as simple as that. But the rest of them were relatively unharmed.

With a swift kick, Vincent shut the office door and locked it with a swipe of the keycard. He braced himself with the help of Barret against the only way in and out.

Cid moved back, further towards the window that made up the back wall, shoving chairs out of his way. Maybe if he could open the window they could climb down on a ledge... Cid cursed once he realized that this particular one didn't open. It was more of a wall, actually. He placed his hands on the glass and assessed the thickness of it. Knowing ShinRa, it wouldn't be easy to break.

In that instant, however, the glass began shaking.

The ex-pilot took his hands away from the clear, smooth surface. He knew that sound when he heard it. With a small, exasperated yell, Cid watched as a helicopter rose from out of seemingly nowhere from behind the other side of the glass.

The helicopter's noise reverberated through the small corner office. Tifa had heard helicopters before, their sound distant in the sky and muffled by the pipes, but nevertheless commanding. It was nothing like this. The noise was impossibly loud, right next to her, causing the glass wall to shutter with an almost human-like groan. It wanted to shatter, it wanted to give way under the power of the helicopter. And no doubt it would, soon enough.

Vincent watched with her, frustration and slight alarm surging inside of him, forcing his mind to think faster. He was so close. And now they were going to be brought down by a flying piece of metal? He tightened his jaw. There was still too much he had to do for Tifa, too many promises he had to keep. Vincent's eyes widened and he whirled around, towards Cid and the two Avalanche members, once he saw the canon-like machine gun on the helicopter; the man behind the weapon had the traditional ShinRa helmet and mask on, though his cold eyes remained clear enough to see. Vincent heard the first bullet crack like a whip as it hit against the thick glass. It was stuck there, as if floating amongst water, small vein -like cracks branching out from it. The next bullet came almost immediately afterwards, producing the same result. Then another and another, until the glass wall was full of bullets and vein-like cracks.

Cid's jaw fell.

"They ain't takin' us!" Barret raised his gun-arm, wanting to fire at the wall, which would inevitably cause it to break.

Vincent's hand rested on the big man's gun-arm and he calmly shook his head.

Barret's mouth moved, but he said nothing.

The helicopter's machine gun went off again, starting from the right of the glass, then slowly moving its way to the left, towards where Vincent and the rest were. Obviously, ShinRa didn't want them as captives anymore. They just wanted them dead. The glass wall shattered, as if in slow motion, each section of glass and stray bullet shells falling to the office ground; the glass broke to smaller pieces, spraying and scattering all over the room.

Vincent held out one of his semi-automatics towards the helicopter and squinted his eyes. He didn't once blink, even when a stray piece of glass cut his cheek. He couldn't afford to blink, not when even the smallest of distractions could cost them this way out.

Their only way out.

Barret followed his lead, aiming his gun-arm at the man behind the helicopter's machine gun. With a small nod from Vincent, he began firing with him. The ShinRa guard was hit in a matter of seconds and jerked in his seat behind the weapon. The helicopter veered for a moment, then went steady once more - as steady as it could possibly be besides a building. The pilot was seemingly oblivious of his gunman's injury. The man behind the machine gun tried to sit up, then received another bullet between his eyes. He slumped forward on top of the machine gun, causing the large weapon to point downward. Still firing, the machine gun let off its ammunition on the floor below.

Vincent holstered his gun and ran towards the helicopter. He didn't pause to assess the space between the helicopter and the office floor, and he most definitely didn't bother to think of the consequences of the drop from this height. In a matter of moments, Vincent was airborne. The jumped seemed effortless to him. He had flown without wings plenty of times. His hands found the floor of the aircraft, right next to the large weapon, which was nailed to the metal floor, and his feet dangled in the air for only a second before he pulled himself onto the helicopter. Vincent fought to stand on the floor and quickly looked around for something - anything - to throw, much like a rope, over the side of the aircraft. Luckily, the helicopter was used for combat, and thus had a variety of things. Finding a thick, black cord, Vincent tied it to the base of the machinegun. He guessed the rope was a good twenty feet in length as he gathered as much as he could of the other end. Vincent braced himself by the edge of the helicopter's open door and motioned to Cid.

Cid caught on quickly when he saw the black cord in Vincent's hands, ready to be thrown to him. Smiling at the splendid looking aircraft, he walked over towards the window and looked down. He could feel his body being rocked by the powerful gusts from the helicopter. "Shit. That's one helluva drop," he whispered, something of a half-smile on his face. With a nod from Vincent, Cid prepared himself for catching the rope.

It took Vincent a minute to steady himself, tie a piece of metal to the opposite end to anchor it against the wind, then throw the rope over. Cid reached for it, but the violent wind made by the helicopter blades caused the rope to swing away from his hands inches before it ever reached him. Cid wobbled on the edge of the forty-fifth floor and stepped back a few inches. Expressionless, Vincent gathered the roped once more; with a small nod from his friend, Cid positioned himself near the edge again. Vincent tossed the rope over and, with the wind finally on their side, this time Cid caught it, though he had to lurch over suddenly, one hand holding onto the metal frame around the blown out window and the other barely grasping the cord. With a small gasp for air, Cid gathered the rope up and steadied himself again on the edge, this time ready to swing over to the helicopter.

A wind gust forced Cid back a few inches with a loud, frustrated curse.

This time the pilot did turn around to look, but all the man saw was the barrel of Vincent's gun pressed forcefully between his eyes. The man opened his mouth, perhaps to beg for his life, maybe to curse the bounty hunter. Either way, his end was quick. Vincent put a bullet in his head without hesitation. The man fell against the bloodied side window and the aircraft he was piloting veered to the left, away from the building.

"Damnit, Valentine! Keep it steady!"

Cid. The bounty hunter smiled slightly. He had forgotten about his friend.

Vincent pull the body off the seat and gained control of the helicopter as fast as he could. He shifted in the leather seat, trying to get his bearings. It was the third time Vincent had sat behind the controls of a helicopter and none of those times had pleasant memories attached to them. At least he was putting his experience as a Turk to good use. He pulled off Cid's goggles from his head and tossed them onto the vacant seat besides the pilot's, then quickly slipped the dead man's headset on.

Vincent slowly tilted the control column of the helicopter to the right, as steady as he could, pulling the aircraft besides the blown out window of the building. Looking out the opposite window, he motioned over to Cid, who was cautiously looking down at the ground beneath them. "Long drop" was somewhat of an understatement. Cid cursed again.

Shouldering his spear with one hand, the ex- pilot positioned himself once again on the very edge of where the floor met with the blown out window, the tips of his boots hovering forty-five stories above ground. He made a face, sniffed, and turned around. The gap between him and helicopter had to be at least ten feet. Of course, since the machinegun's firing had halted due to their interference, there would be nothing stopping the ShinRa guards from busting down the office door to see what they thought would be four dead bodies. Cid rested his spear flat across his right shoulder, his fingers wrapped tightly around the bottom of it, turned around quickly, and tossed the weapon like a javelin across to the open door of the helicopter.

A reassuring clattering made Cid's grin widen. With his precious weapon safe and sound, Cid had no qualms about grabbing the end of the thick cord, turning around with an almost childlike expectance, and dropping nearly twenty feet through the air - which he did in almost a heartbeat. It was far from easy and his hands nearly slipped when the fall ended with a stomach-wrenching bounce, and he held on for dear life; he took a moment to breathe out and steady himself on the dangling rope, then he climbed up. Once Cid's whole body made it onto the aircraft, it lurched sideways, forcing the top of his head to be welcomed with a rather resounding thwack against the opposite side of the helicopter.

Cid mumbled a curse and staggered to his feet, one hand on his head and the other holding his stomach. It took him a moment to realize that the sudden pounding that accompanied him hitting the helicopter's metal side hadn't stopped yet. Cid scrunched his eyebrows together and exchanged a quick glance with Vincent. The ex-pilot cursed again. "Tell me that's just the poundin' in my head, Vin."

Vincent struggled to hold the control column and looked back across to the office they had abandoned, and to the two people still waiting to jump across to safety. I wish it was just you, Cid. Vincent nearly lost control of the helicopter once he realized that that pounding was from the office door.

The ShinRa soldiers had finally gotten tired of waiting.

Vincent slipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved Cid's packet of cigarettes. "Cid, take the controls!" He threw the cigarettes at his friend.

Cid caught them with one hand. "I was waitin' for you to say that." With his usual cocky grin, the ex-pilot grabbed his goggles from off the passenger's seat, placed them back in their rightful place atop his head, secured his cigarettes behind the strap, and quickly switched places with Vincent. It took him only a moment to get comfortable behind the controls. "Hell, it's not a plane, but it'll do," he said, adjusting the headset on top of his goggles. Under his expert hands, Cid was able enough to bring the helicopter five inches closer to the ShinRa building.

A sharp crack jolted Vincent back to life. With only a shake of his head, he turned back around and anchored himself in the space between the open helicopter door and the machine gun, which couldn't have been nailed in a more terrible spot, right in the middle of the open doorway. With a grunt, he pulled the barrel of the weapon upward and away from the door's path. Vincent checked to make sure the rope was still secure enough to support anyone else's weight, then he did the same as before and readied himself to toss the thick cord to the next person.

Another bang could be heard, even over the thunderous noise of the helicopter's blades.

The ShinRa soldiers had now begun to ram the office door with something he could only assume was of great size. With a swift look across, Vincent figured out why: Barret had broken the lock with a bullet from his gun-arm, thus rendering any of the guards' keycards useless. Vincent smiled slightly. The big man's mind worked well under pressure.

"Damnit! I hate jumpin'!" Barret looked back at Tifa and then at the helicopter, which was blowing everything from dust to small pieces of glass everywhere within the room's space. Not only did it make it difficult to breathe, but he had to strain to hear his own words above the roaring of the helicopter's blades. He cupped his left hand over his eyes to shield them from anything sharp that might be blown in. That was the last thing he needed; the mighty leader of Avalanche brought down by glass in his eye.

"It's the only way out!" Tifa stood besides him at the edge of the blown out window, the wind loosening more of her hair and blowing it back; each of the chocolate colored strands were like fingers, grabbing for the safety of a wall that wasn't there anymore.

Another loud bang made Cid cringe and accidentally jerk the aircraft, causing the rotor's blades to brush against the metal frame of what used to be the window. It sent the aircraft to the left a few inches with a sharp, resonating sound. He turned his head slightly to see the office door finally cave in. Cid's head shot forward again and he cried out, "Vincent!"

The office door fell forward, bounced on the ground, then was immediately blown backwards through the doorway by the wind's force. The ShinRa guards standing near the entrance of the room were knocked back, as well.

"Barret, go!" Tifa pushed the big man.

Barret barely moved forward. "Tifa -"

"Go!"

Barret didn't argue with her. Perhaps she thought that since he was the heaviest, he would have more trouble with the distance. Perhaps she didn't want him lingering behind with ShinRa guards aiming guns, ready and willing to shoot him down. He was more of a target. At least, Barret hoped that was her reasoning. The damnable girl better not have been thinking of sacrificing herself, because he would swing back for her in a heartbeat.

He grabbed her hand forcefully. He would not give her the option of martyr.

Barret pulled her closer to him, despite her protests. "We go together!"

Tifa felt herself smile. You're a fool, Barret. A wonderful, damn fool.

Vincent tossed them the rope the moment the guards entered the room. The cord would never reach them in time, so their only option would be to jump at least some of the way and, with a little luck, perhaps they would catch it. Of course they always had the option of fighting a great deal of ShinRa guards. It was all a blur to Tifa, and she wondered in that instant, in that moment they were about to jump, if that perhaps it was raining again. It would make sense. It always rained. She saw Vincent on the helicopter, waiting there to catch her if she fell, no doubt. Barret's hand tightened around hers as she heard the ShinRa guns fire behind her.

They jumped. They flew, actually. Tifa loved that feeling, though she knew it would be brief.

Something hot grazed her left side, however, and that feeling dissipated quickly. She let go of Barret. No, she didn't let go. She pulled away. She saw it in what she could only assume was slow motion; Barret's body making it to the helicopter's rope, barely; Vincent pulling him up; the world spinning mercilessly; the blur of everything around her as it melted together as one.

She was falling.

Tifa had fell plenty of times in her dreams. She assumed she was to be frightened, she knew she should have been frightened, but she couldn't seem to find that emotion. There was numbness, there was the warmth of the wind blowing against her face, blowing against her body. She felt for a moment that she should be floating, maybe even flying. She shouldn't be falling. The sides of buildings rushed passed her sight, blurred together, windows reflecting the stray light's glare now one bright, golden line in her vision. Tifa could see the ground, still such a long distance away.

Then she felt it. She was afraid.

The feeling came suddenly out of nowhere and Tifa opened her mouth to scream, but no noise that she could hear passed those opened lips. Maybe she was screaming and she just couldn't hear. She couldn't hear anything, just the roaring of the wind that fought against her descending body. Tifa closed her eyes tightly. And as strange as it sounded, with as much fear that was inside of her that was not able to escape with a needed scream, she still felt the whimsical feeling of freedom that came with falling towards the nothingness.

A loud "whoosh" sound, which came besides her right ear, forced her to open her eyes. Things took a different view then. No longer was she falling down, but upwards, towards the sky. It was as if the world had turned upside down just so she'd fall to the helicopter, not the ground. No, not fall. Fly. She was flying. Something - someone was pulling her towards them and grabbing her tightly.

Tifa absentmindedly wrapped her arms around Vincent's neck. Not only could her bounty hunter perform miracles, but he could fly, too. She would have smiled then, if her lips had been working properly. Words not finding her voice in that moment, she simply watched him watch her. There was an overwhelming sort of relief in those red eyes of his. Tifa lost herself for a moment and it became obvious that they were neither flying nor falling; they were hovering in one place, almost as if suspended in time. Tifa expected black feathers to float by her face at a dizzying speed, much like the spinning of the buildings around them.

Tifa's eyes shifted slightly to her left, then to her right. Those bat-like, coal colored wings of his were there, moving calmly, keeping them hovering in their place.

"Yeah... I remember," she murmured, not aware that her words had finally found her voice, though only in the form of a small whisper, barely audible to her own ears.

They were spinning downward, she was certain, slowly now. The wind was no longer roaring by them, just enveloping them, accepting them in their little place within the underground world. It was peaceful that moment and Tifa completely forgot the pain of the bullet graze on her side and the helicopter's distant noise. They just kept descending, little by little. And finally their feet found the ground and Vincent's wings moved forward, enclosing around Tifa. She felt those wings, those strangely soft, leathery wings, but still she could not bring herself out of her little dream world.

"Are you all right?"

Tifa was certain he had just spoke. The voice was so unmistakably Vincent Valentine; just the right amount of concern and aloofness together as one. She was being pulled in by those crimson eyes of his again. Damn him. Was he purposely trying to drown her? Perhaps that fascinated him. She blinked again, vainly trying to reenter the real world. "We...we should land now." Her voice sounded miles away.

His eyes watched her, those beautiful, unblinking embers. Funny...they looked more golden now. They examined her face with an unbreakable and purely simple curiosity. "We already did."

Tifa uttered a small "Oh" and loosened her grip on his arms, since she absentmindedly allowed those hands of hers to wander down to his upper arms, once they both had their feet placed firmly on the asphalt. She turned her head away, finally breaking the invisible chain that had bound her to him at that moment. With a small shuffle of her right foot, she realized that his words were true; they had indeed landed.

That would mean that their helicopter was still waiting. As well as forty-something ShinRa guards - if not more. In her mind, with every passing second, more and more soldiers were gathering together on the forty-fifth floor. She could still faintly hear their gunfire up there, shooting at the helicopter, which, with a swift turn of her head upwards, she could see had begun to pull away to another, much smaller building. Cid landed the aircraft a few buildings down, on a roof. Obviously, she and Vincent would have to ascend that building's staircase to the top. She wasn't about to ask Vincent if he would fly her there. That just seemed...out of place.

"Are you hurt?" Vincent asked, his voice a whisper.

Tifa pressed her hand against her left side, feeling the sticky wetness through her tank top. She pulled it up partway and poked at the area around the wound. "No, I'm all right. It's just a graze." She turned to finally look at her winged bounty hunter.

Vincent was hunched over slightly, both his arm and his claw enveloping around his stomach.

Tifa cringed. Perfect. Vincent had gotten hurt saving her. That all-too-familiar feeling of guilt crept up inside of her. But once Tifa stepped towards him, her right hand outstretched and hovering completely still, as if she was afraid to touch him, she realized that wasn't the reason. He wasn't injured. It was something far worse.

Vincent took a step back from her. "No!"

Chaos.

How could she be so ignorant? Tifa felt like smacking herself upside her head. How could she not remember what came with those wings? How could she have forgotten those days before? Tifa bit her lower lip. Not now. Not now! Well, it wasn't like he could save it for later. "Vincent, would you mind holding him in until we're safe?" wouldn't exactly be the most sensible thing to say. It was most likely that he had been holding Chaos back, fighting him feverously in order to safe Tifa from both the fall and the demon. Hadn't she caused this? She had pulled away from Barret, not wanting one of her dearest friends to fall with her, not wanting to be responsible for more deaths.

Tifa moved towards him again. "Vincent..."

Vincent's yellowish eyes were unblinking, watching her dangerously, warning her to stay away. He closed those eyes and clenched his teeth and if Tifa hadn't seen him as Chaos before, she might have been surprised to see the vampire-like fangs that were flashed in plain view at that moment. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it firmly and simply shook his head.

She didn't listen. But it wasn't like she ever did. Impossible girl that she was.

"Fight it." She said it firmly, so firmly, in fact, that Vincent nearly believed in that instant that perhaps he could very well do so. "Fight the damn thing, Vincent."

Another shake of his head and he was back one more step. "It doesn't... That's not the way this works, Tifa." His voice was deeper somehow, so jarringly different from just a moment ago. "Go to the helicopter. Wait there. I'll meet you-"

"He's a part of you, Vincent. You're not a part of him." She moved closer until the tips of his wings, still bent and out towards her, brushed against her shoulders.

Vincent wrapped his right hand's fingers around the metal claw of his left. With each short gasp of air sucked in through partially opened lips, the grasp of his hand around his wrist grew tighter. "No." His wings flinched away from her and folded against his back.

"You're stronger than this!"

"I am this!" Vincent took in another breath of air and looked directly at her. Those eyes no longer held a rosy glow, that small reminder that he was still indeed Vincent. Both were now completely golden. But she didn't care; they were beautiful all the same. Another step taken back, another few inches added to the growing gap between them, and he repeated softly, almost reproachfully, "I am this, Tifa."

"You can't be." She didn't move and it didn't matter anymore. The gap was already too big for her to close by herself and Vincent wouldn't be helping her any time soon. It was just the ground, just asphalt. Why couldn't she move closer? It was as if some invisible force was keeping her away, was not allowing her to cross that established line between her and Vincent.

"Get out of here." Vincent turned around and the shadows of the buildings eagerly accepted him. After all, he belonged there. He melted into them. He was a shadow.

Vincent was gone in an instant.

She wanted to go after him, help him to fight. Why could he help her, yet she was not allowed to help him in return? But Vincent wasn't Vincent anymore and he'd most likely hurt her. She hated it. She wasn't some helpless child. Hell, she was a powerful fighter and could take on the worst of demons. She just didn't want that demon to be Vincent. It was too confusing, too hurtful, too... Tifa spun around in a burst of energy, perhaps too forceful, and took a step. Then another. If she went back to the helicopter now, then she could... One more step. Could what? Tifa ran.

She ran after Vincent.