Chapter 13 - Bad Blood In A Bad City

“And so that brings us here,” Vincent said in conclusion. His audience, Cloud Strife, a man with a shock of spiked, blonde hair and green eyes that seemed to glow, and his wife, Tifa Lockheart, now known as Tifa Strife, listened carefully to the tale. Cloud threw a glance over to Eric, who sat with his head down, his silver hair falling over his face and his black wings draped heavily over him.

“So, he used to be human then?” Cloud asked, turning back to Vincent. Eric looked up at the three of them, quietly listening. After the initial introductions outside of Midgar, Tifa took the pair back to the city. They were now sitting in “Cloud Nine,” a small tavern owned by the Strife couple. Both Tifa and Cloud's initial reaction to Eric was as he expected it to be, with both giving him strange, suspicious glances. However, after Vincent explained the situation, they seemed to have a change of demeanor, and looked at him with pity.

Personally, Eric would have preferred suspicion.

“How terrible,” Tifa said, shaking her head. “To think that anyone should have to go through something like that…and you said he was orphaned at a young age?”

“Indeed,” Vincent nodded, and Eric looked once again at the man. His eyes were cold, emotionless, as usual, but Eric could not help but notice that Vincent had left out the details of how Eric had become an orphan in the first place. This did not bother Eric, for he had already started to recover from that shock. Instead, it made him see that Vincent kept secrets, even with his closest friends.

“Well,” Cloud said, rising to his feet, “It seems you both have had quite a journey.” He smiled now, the grave look in his eyes vanished, while a young, kind look replaced it. “Now, why don't I show you guys to a spare room?”

“I believe I could use a bath somewhat urgently,” Vincent added quietly, looking down at his mud-caked clothes as he rose from his own chair.

“You should be careful, Vincent,” Tifa laughed, “Or some might find you vain, the way you feel about your appearance. After all, appearances aren't everything.”

“But they certainly matter a great deal in the long run,” Vincent replied.

“True,” Tifa agreed with another, quiet laugh. She started to stand up when she let out a slight sigh and sat back down. Cloud rushed to her side to help her up.

“Are you alright?” Cloud asked, “You know the doctor said to be careful.”

“Doctor?” Vincent asked, his voice sounding slightly curious.

“Didn't we tell you?” Cloud asked, turning back to his friend.

“No, no,” Tifa smiled, “We shouldn't tell Vincent. He's always been secretive, so I think we deserve to have one of our own.”

Vincent did not say anything and the look on his face made Eric want to laugh himself. Vincent seemed at a loss. It was not apparent in his face, but his eyes betrayed a slight pout, as if he wanted to know, but certainly did not appreciate the teasing.

“Very well,” Vincent replied, simply, nodding as he turned, “I shall simply find the bathroom on my own.”

“Oh, don't pout, Vincent,” Tifa said, placing her hand on his shoulder, “If you want to know, we'll tell you.”

Vincent turned back around after a moment, the look in his eyes returning to normal.

Tifa giggled slightly with delight as Cloud walked up beside her, “Vincent…..I'm four months pregnant!”

“Pregnant?” Vincent asked, not seeming surprised in the least, “I must say that does come as news….for I certainly would not have been able to guess it, looking at you now.”

“Yes, well, the doctor said there might be a drastic change, or there might not, but regardless, in five months, I will give birth to my first child.”

“We've already made a room for the baby,” Cloud added, a look of fatherly pride in his vibrant, green eyes. Eric smiled at the three. It seemed to him that, despite how desperate things had seemingly grown, he could still find happiness, even in a place like Midgar. He smiled slightly, and felt better almost immediately.

“It's nice to smile, don't you think?” he heard Shiva's voice ask. He just nodded in agreement.

Cloud led Vincent upstairs to the living quarters of the tavern, while Tifa led Eric into the kitchen.

“You must be hungry,” she asked, going towards the fridge. “I made these a few days ago, but no one's really touched them.” She reached in a pulled out a plate of sugar cookies. Eric was glad to see the sweet treat, for cookies had always been one of his favorites, and it seemed so long since the last time he had one.

“Here you are,” his hostess said, setting the plate down in front of him, “I hope you like them.” Eric picked up one, and bit into it with a smile. Very quickly, however, he learned why no one else would eat them. They were hard, much harder then any cookie he had had before, and instead of the usual sweet taste of sugary goodness, Eric's taste buds were assaulted by a horrible, salty taste. Trying his best not to cough in front of the kind woman, he forced a smile as best he could.

“You like them then?” she asked, a slight sparkle in her eyes. Eric swallowed hard, forcing down the urge to vomit, and just kept looking at Tifa with same, stupid smile.

“No good, huh?” she asked, still smiling, but her eyes falling slightly. “Well, it has been a while, so I guess I shouldn't expect perfection…”

“Well, I guess it's not really my place,” Eric said, placing down the lethal cookie and looking back up, “But perhaps you're using too much salt?”

“Hhm….you may be right,” Tifa nodded.

“If I may be so bold,” Eric started, “But, I think I need to ask you something…”

“Yes?”

“Well, I'm not too sure how to ask this, but…how is it that you came to accept me? I mean, I'm not exactly the nicest looking person on earth.”

Tifa looked into his eyes for a moment, her own, brown eyes searching for an answer. After a moment, she began to twirl a lock of her thick, chocolate hair, and then stopped.

“I think that a lot of it had to do with Vincent.” Eric looked at her curiously. Tifa just smiled and nodded, “Yes, Vincent. You see, I have spent a good deal of time with him. In fact, I was one of the first to meet him when we found him in the Shinra mansion.”

“So, he hadn't just been living there this entire time?”

“No, he had accompanied us in our fight against Shinra and then Sephiroth, but you see when we first found him, he wasn't as cordial as he is today.”

“Cordial?” Eric asked, looking slightly shocked, “If that's cordial, then I would hate to run into him when he's angry.”

Tifa just laughed and replied, “Yes, he certainly is a bit foreboding, but when we first met, we had found that he had sealed himself in a coffin in the basement of the Shinra Mansion.”

“What!?” Eric asked, thoroughly surprised. He had always thought Vincent was strange, but certainly not that strange. “You mean I've been traveling with a vampire!?”

“Vincent is no vampire,” Tifa said, her voice growing suddenly serious, as if the very thought was offensive, “He was just….overwhelmed.”

“What do you mean?”

“He has never been very clear on the subject of his past, and usually would go off in one of his black moods if I tried to bring it up, but I know the reason for his self-punishment, as he would call it, was because of his guilt.”

“But why a coffin?”

Tifa sighed heavily, “I think that Vincent could explain that better then I could….and I don't think he would like me telling you anyway. He's always been like that.”

Eric's head dropped as he thought it over. Tifa was right, whether Eric like it or not. Perhaps he should try asking Vincent about it. It was doubtful that the man would tell him, if he would not even tell his closest friends.

“Can you keep a secret?” Tifa asked, leaning in closer. A mischievous look was in her eyes, and it made Eric feel better about the situation.

“Of course,” Eric nodded, “What is it and who do we keep it from?”

“Well, Cloud knows, but don't tell Vincent…”

“Alright,” Eric nodded again.

“Now, we've already decided on names for the baby. If it's a girl, we want to name her Aerith, a small tribute to a friend, but if we have a boy, we want to name him……Vincent.”

Eric chuckled slightly, amused by the idea.

“What?” Tifa asked, pretending to be hurt, “What's so funny?”

“Well, can you imagine what Vincent would say? He be all like, `That would be an unwise idea',” Eric said, mocking Vincent's unemotional monotone. “Perhaps you should name him after Cloud, because he has so much more then me, and I would hate to burden your child with anything related to my legacy…….”

Tifa did not say anything for a moment, and then suddenly burst out laughing. “That's just like Vincent!”

“What's so funny?” Cloud asked, coming around the corner into the kitchen. He glanced down at the two, and then the plate of cookies on the table.

“Oh no,” he cried in mock horror, “You didn't eat some of her cookies?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Tifa shot back playfully.

“I mean, your cookies could kill a cactuar.”

This continued for a while, the two throwing back banter, and Eric sitting in between, laughing quietly. The couple was so nice, and they had such a sweet relationship. I wonder if this is what mom and dad were like. He wondered to himself.

“To produce a child like you,” he heard Shiva whisper, “They must surely have been good people…”

“Or you just happened to grow up that way on your own…” he heard Ifirit counter.

“Why must you say such things?” Shiva hissed at the other voice.

“I only wish to keep things in perspective….”

Eric just rolled his eyes. “Listen you guys,” Eric said, somewhat hesitantly. He did not want to irritate or anger the two powerful beings, but he just couldn't have the two bickering in his head. “If, um, you guys are going to argue, could you please, uh, take it out of my head?”

The two voices fell silent for a moment, but Eric could still feel their presence in his mind. Suddenly, both the presences were gone.

Eric decided to head upstairs, and try to find the spare room. He looked down the hall, but was worried about opening any doors, for fear of something private being shown. Finally though, at the end of the wooden hallway, he heard a voice, Vincent's voice. Eric, curious about who the man was talking to, got down on his knees and peered through the slight crack where the door was open and watched.

Vincent sat on one of the beds, looking at something in his palm. He looked strange, because he was wearing a simple black t-shirt and and jeans. As strange as this was, the fact that he was talking to himself was even stranger.

“Lucrecia,” he said quietly, “I never thought I would return here, to Midgar…I suppose I should have guessed that this city would not let me be, even after its demise…Still, it is a relief to know that those who have caused so many people pain are finally realizing just what they have done…and yet they still continue to do as they please. But I digress….I only wished to speak with you again. I miss you dearly my love, and with what tomorrow being what it is, I fear that I will lose myself, and be unable to speak with you….still, I shall make sure to carry out my usual tradition, though….I promise you…”

Eric didn't move or even breath. It was obvious that Vincent was “talking” to a love, probably that woman he had mentioned a long while back. But what was tomorrow, their anniversary? Eric couldn't be sure, but as he started to stand, he heard Vincent say something else quietly.

“If you are finished eaves-dropping, you may enter, Mr. Constantine….”

“How does he do that?” Eric whispered to himself as he sheepishly opened the door.

“Sorry about that, Vincent,” Eric said quietly, as he stepped into the room. Vincent didn't respond, but simply motioned for him to shut the door. Eric did as he was instructed, then turned back to Vincent, his head down. He knew Vincent was not going to be pleased, but still felt bad. Now Vincent would never answer his question.

The man didn't say anything, and for several moments, though it felt much longer to Eric, a horribly uncomfortable silence pervaded the room. Finally, Eric worked up enough courage to ask, “So, how did you know I was out there?”

“The moment you knelt down outside the door….I could here your wings rustling.”

“And yet you went on with what you were saying…..why?”

“To show you that, despite the unwanted interruptions of the world, Mr. Constantine, sometimes one must press on with anything that means a great deal to you.”

“I'm sorry, Vincent, didn't realize-“

“Of course you didn't. You never do! You are so naïve that you believe that the world is centered about yourself and your problems. You think that you everyone else lives as you do, and that the only one who has any problems in his life is you!” Vincent voice had grown to a louder tone, louder then Eric had ever heard it. It seemed fierce, as if it wasn't even him speaking.

“I said I was sorry!” Eric snapped back, not realizing his own voice was growing in volume. “How was I supposed to know you were wanting some privacy!?”

“Because…” Vincent said, his voice growing low, almost menacing, “I have been asking for you to leave me be since the first time you entered into the Shinra Mansion…..and yet, as perceptive as you may believe yourself to be, you have yet to see that I do not enjoy your company, nor do I wish to have you hanging on me like a dog who follows his master!”

Eric was speechless, completely unable to think of any kind of response. He thought that Vincent liked him at least, and he had told Tseng so. Evidently he was wrong.

“You….you…you think you're so high and mighty?!” Eric spat back, losing control of his mouth, “You tell me to think about others! Why don't you practice what you preach, MR. Valentine!? You sit all day brooding about things that have happened in the past, and then take it out on other people! That's vile behavior! I've tried to put up with it, because I actually thought you were cool! I looked up to you, Vincent!” At this, his face started to turn a bright red, and he fought hard against tears again. “I wanted to….I don't know, be like you! You seemed so smart and cool, but now I'm not too sure at all! You called me naïve? Well, you know what I see in you right now?! All I see is a spoiled little boy, pretending to be an adult, and who thinks only about himself!”

Vincent didn't say anything as Eric finished his rant. The man's eyes were glowing ferosciously, and his breathing was slightly quicker then usual.

“Get….out!” he growled, his voice sounding like he would have liked nothing more at that moment to leap across the room, tackle Eric, and rip of his face. However angry Eric may have been at the moment, he knew that he had overstepped his boundaries by leaps and bounds, and that it would be best to get out of the reach of Vincent's wrath. He ran out the door, down the stairs and out of the bar, slamming the front door behind him. He stormed down the path that wound around the bar and went straight forward, into the city; not a single thought of who saw him or how other people felt about him crossed his mind.

Of course, no one can go very far in any new place, especially one like Midgar, without becoming lost; this is, of course, exactly what Eric found himself doing.

“Vincent,” Tifa said, knocking lightly on the door. In her hands was his normal clothes, neatly folded and fresh from the drier, and she had come up to give them back to Vincent. She had heard raised voices earlier, and saw Eric go storming out of the building, his face red and his wings fluttering angrily. Still, she decided, from past expiriences, that it would be best to leave Vincent alone for a while. She waited until his clothes were done, then plucked up enough courage to approach him.

“Vincent,” she said again, knocking on the wooden door again. When the door opened slightly by itself, she pushed it open and walked in slowly.

Vincent was once again on his bed, staring into space it seemed, and a cold, empty gaze met Tifa's when she leaned over to get his attention.

“Hey, Vincent, you okay?” she asked, leaning over so her face was in his line of sight. Vincent didn't respond, except a simple blink, as if he had just woken up. Tifa took this momentt of recovery to place his clothes next to the distracted man.

“I said, are you okay?” Tifa repeated, and this time, Vincent just sighed heavily. “Okay, I can see you're in one of those moods, so why don't I ask the questions, and you just pretend to care, okay?” she asked, smiling slightly. Still no response.

“So, what's bothering you?” she asked.

To this question, she knew there would be no answer, or at least she expected that, so it came as a surprise when Vincent turned to her and said, “Tifa…do you know what tomorrow is?”

Tifa thought for a moment, trying to recall anything that seemed important about tomorrow. When she could think of nothing personally, she decided to take it from Vincent's perspective. This time, she remembered.

“Oh, tomorrow's the day, right….when she…when you have…” Tifa could not find the proper words to say what it was. She knew what the day was. She had first seen Vincent mention this two years ago, during their journey together when they had returned to Midgar. She also recalled Vincent returning to Midgar at this same time last year, and when she recalled what tomorrow was, it caused her to shed a tear.

Tomorrow was the day Lucrecia, Vincent's one and only love, was declared dead.

“It has been thirty-two years….” Vincent said quiietly, “Thirty-two years of hearing nothing but her silent voice in my mind….”

“Vincent…are you going to be alright?” Tifa asked, gently laying her hand on the man's shoulder. She knew then that he must have been deeply upset, for he didn't make any motion to say that he did not want her touching him, as he had done with anyone under normal circumstances.

“I do not know anymore,” he answered honestly, “For I barely know my self anymore…..At any other time, I suppose I would I was fine, but very recently, many things have changed that feeling…”

“Like what?” Tifa asked, her brown eyes full of concern for her friend. She had seen Vincent melancholy before, but never like this. It was as if the cold exterior was stripping away, to reveal a broken man underneath.

“Vincent….I heard you….I heard you growing angry up here at Eric. What was that all about?”

Vincent said nothing, but turned to look at Tifa for the first time since their conversation had began. When he did, Tifa felt her heart break, for Vincent very face showed a pitiable countenance, the sad look of a child, almost, who has broken a vase, and is still dumbfounded that it had happened.

“I never told you how Eric became an orphan…did I?” he said slowly.

“No, no you didn't,” Tifa replied, and felt her stomach tightening. She could almost feel where this was going, and she didn't like it one bit.

“Stupid Vincent,” Eric said, kicking idly at the street, “How dare he call me naïve? If I was so naïve, I would have left him in that bog, and ran like a little kid. I didn't though….stupid Vincent!” He saw a tin can lying crushed on the side of the street and he kicked it hard, sending it richocheting into a wall down an allyway. He sighed heavily and continued walking.

Suddenly, he looked up again. Glancing around, he saw that the street was empty; rather strange for a big city like Midgar. Even if it had been totaled, it had been two years since then, so surely there must have been some kind of life, right?

“Great, now I'm lost and alone…” he mumbled, “Plus Vincent's angry at me. Can this day get any better?” The question was a rhetorical one, so when he got an answer, it made him jump.

“Of course it can,” a woman's voice said from behind him. Eric turned to see Shiva stnding before him.

“Shiva! Don't do that!” he said, still startled.

“I am sorry,” she replied, “I did not realize you did not want an answer.”

“Well, I kinda did want and answer, though I didn't expect one. But what do you mean that it can get better? It hasn't exactly been all that great of a start?”

“Well, you are still alive, for one,” the icy woman replied, “And you have arrived here safely.”

“But I still look like a demon, like Cire…” Eric mumbled.

“Something that will end as well,” another voice said. Eric turned to see a burst of flame appear out of thin air, though it gave off no heat. Then, when it had vanished, there stood Ifrit, his dark face and grave orange eyes framed by his orange, tangled hair.

“What do you mean by that?” Eric asked, starting to grow tired with always having to ask for explainations.

“I mean, the power of Cire is not boundless, and the transformation will eventually end.”

“But when? I can't stand being this way! I look like a monster….and a cruel one at that.”

“But, have you not still found happiness, even in your discomfort?” Shiva asked, hinting at something.

Eric thought it over for a moment, then looked into the blue eyes of the ice goddess. That was when he remembered the only thing that had given him any joy in this new look.

“Well, I will admit that flying was amazing…” he said quietly. As much as he didn't want to admit that the transformation had done him any good, he couldn't deny that it hadn't.

“Besides…” Shiva added, “Have you actually examined yourself in a mirror?”

“Why? I don't want to see myself looking the way I am. If I look like Cire, then it must be horrible.”

Ifrit shook his head. “That is not necessarily true. You are only judging by what you saw, and that was a twisted being. You are not Cire, therefore, your appearance is different, even if he was your reflection.”

Eric nodded, not truly understanding, but wanting to get off the subject. He started to walk forward, not really thinking about the pair behind him.

“Don't you think you should try to head back?” Shiva asked, coming up beside him.

“It is growing dark,” Ifrit added, “And you are in the city of Shinra. Do you think it wise to be wandering around the city when you are being searched for?”

“They don't know I'm here…” Eric mumbled, but he knew they were right. “Even if I wanted to, I'm lost.”

Shiva just laughed. It was the first time Eric had heard either of the two laugh, and to him, the lady's laughter sounding like icicles when they are tapped against each other.

“I don't think it's very funny,” Eric said, “I mean, it's fine for you, `cause you're not being hunted.”

“So, now you admit that you are being sought,” Ifrit said, in more of a statement then a question.

“Yeah,” Eric agreed. “But that still doesn't help my situation any.”

“Well, if you had let me finish,” Shiva said, a sounding slightly annoyed, “The I could have told you that while you were not paying attention to where you were going, both Ifrit and myself were. We shall be your guides back.”

Eric smiled as the two walked ahead of him. At least there were people, even if they were not necessarily human, that cared about him.

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