Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Revelations ❯ The Silence Before the Thunder ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of its characters, etc.

I want to thank everyone for their reviews, they really are helpful. They let me know that what I'm writing isn't complete codswallop. That in turn helps me to perservere. So thank you, Crimson Valkyrie, fLy, and last but not least ichi-nana-hachi. This is something I really enjoy doing in my free time and it's nice to know others get pleasure in reading it. Hope you like this chapter.

Oh, and one more thing, there is a bit of swearing in this fic, its not something I normally condone. But it seems to fit this fic, I couldn't really imagine anything else being said in some of the situations that arise. So i'm sorry if it offends you, I'm not condoning it in any way it's just fiction and people tend to swear in certain fictional situations. XD

Chapter 2: The Silence Before the Thunder

1

Her heart was pounding.

Tifa flicked to the next photograph, then the next. It was suddenly cold; she was shaking and when she opened her mouth to speak, a garbled, broken noise came out.

She flicked on, tucking the next underneath awkwardly with its damp tackiness. On and on, the same face in every photograph. Her lip curled and she flicked faster, soon the photos were being discarded to the floor in a noisy flurry.

He still stood there. Watching as panic took hold and the colour drained from her face, something he'd seen a thousand times over, but it seemed that much more disturbing to watch it in her. He watched each successive photo fall to the slate tiles, darken in the wet puddle he'd created and then small bubbles begin to surface between the layers.

“Tifa.” Vincent grabbed her cold hand, she jerked away roughly and continued her frenzy, “Tifa! Stop it.” He watched the zoned out look disappear from her face. She looked up with the question already in her eyes.

“What do they want with me? Why,” Why me? Cloud… Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, “I mean, what do I do? I can't sit around knowing this and waiting for something to happen. Vincent, Cloud won't be home for like the next two weeks! What do you think I should do?” She swung her legs off the bar and looked at the floor. Tifa knew he'd feel obligated, he always did. She would have felt ashamed asking Vincent for help (she was too stubborn to ask anyone for help on most occassions), this was a nice way around it, but with the same result.

She felt miniscule when she thought of ShinRa, in all it's entirety - supposedly disbanded or not- chasing after just her. The memories of the slums seemed so distant; stealing for food, knocking around a few idiots who thought a single woman was an easy target, even having to wash in the dirty river water because it was still cleaner than her.

She had been alone then and she had survived, even revelled in the independance. But she wasn't sure if she could cope with this on her own. For once Tifa needed someone else to tell her what she should do, because, truly, she had no idea. This strange dependance had been a kind of laziness, and developed when Cloud re-entered the fray.

Tifa was the lamb and Vincent could be her shepherd. But would he deliver her to salvation?

Shit, don't start crying. I will not tolerate weakness, woman or not. Vincent knew he would have just left if she did, he couldn't deal with tears. To him it was a weakness and weakness deserved only disgust. But Tifa didn't cry, She was too strong and too proud. Instead she began pulling the tissue cautiously from her half cracked nose, and he was just watching, waiting.

Somewhere outside the rain was falling harder, and a flash of lightning crashed. “Tifa, there's more.” As he edged closer, she gracefully jumped from the bar-top and walked to the bin, discarding of the bloodied tissue and touching her nose in the mirror. He reached for the black device he had set upon the smooth granite surface of the bar.

Another crash of lightning lit up the window behind her.

Another rumble of thunder filled the silence between sniffing and small hisses of pain.

2

Static filled the air. Tifa stopped moving, and Vincent simply watched with emotionless eyes; a cold, hard expression upon his pale face. She started at a gunshot, a small surprised cry escaping her lips. Then a scream, and another shot. . Three. Four. Five. Her shoulder's jerked with each report of the gun.

An explosion and the terrible wails of the dying covered the silent wake of the fifth shot, she closed her eyes. The fighter in her heard the roar of flames, and the cock of a gun but she tuned out the howls. She turned when his voice rang out, staring at him in question, her face showing a hardness he admired; to him she had never looked more beautiful.

The gruff voice crackled over static, she looked at the recorder clutched in his human hand. “Why are you here? Who sent you and what do you want?” Vincent's tone of voice made Tifa wince and she looked to him for something. He supposed she was looking for regret, or guilt, perhaps even disgust but she would find none. My actions be as my needs dictate, he thought. If she looked close enough it would probably horrify her to find the beginnings of a dark smirk and amusement. She didn't, or she did and didn't care.

The voice continued, as the flames roared louder. “If you don't answer me, I'm going to blow your fingers off one at a time.” Tifa's lips parted and her jaw twisted as though in contemplation of whether she should speak or not. He wouldn't turn it off if she asked him to, he was showing it to her for a reason, whether she liked it or not.

There was a gulping sound for air, Tifa pictured Vincent's talons wrapped around the man's throat and piercing into the delicate skin. A crash of lightning sounded outside, and she jumped when another gun shot was heard. It was muffled with the sound of impacting flesh, and a cry that made the hackles stand up on the back of her neck.

The gun cocked once more, clicking loudly in time with a beat of her heart.

A hand reached up to cover her mouth. “My fucking finger! I'm going to kill you! I'm going to carve those eyes out of your head you fucking son of a-”

A loud smack interrupted him. Either Vincent smacked him across the face with the butt of his gun or he punched him. To Tifa the latter seemed more his style, he wouldn't risk damaging or bloodying any of his guns.

“ShinRa!” He cried. “We're working under the orders of ShinRa. Just leave me alone you craz-”

Tifa gasped at the gurgling sound that followed that sentence, whatever Vincent was doing had the man spitting up blood or vomit, it was impossible to tell. The fire in the background had now become the dry crackle of detritus in the night air.

“Who is heading ShinRa now? Where is their base of operations?”

Another cry of pain. “Rufus, Rufus ShinRa! I can`t tell you, that fucking maniac would kill me and if you kill me first, he`ll have me put back together again so he can do it himself!”

Vincent's voice was now a growl, fizzing with static and anger, “What are you after?”

A distant gunshot rang out followed by a shout and scream when Vincent's gun sounded off again. Someone had apparently not stayed dead.

“We were sent to retrieve someone and return to base with them. I don't know who I swe-”

There was a squelch of flesh, “Fuck! Ok! Ok! Some woman bartender in Edge, I think her name was Lockhart. Yeah, Tifa Lockha-” Click.

3

Tifa looked up at the click. “Why did you stop it! Did he say anything else?” She was shaking more visibly now and stepped closer.

“There is no need to hear the rest. It contains no more information.” The tone of his voice made her sure she didn't want to know. She wassure she'd never meet that soldier again.

“Well what do you suggest I do now? I obviously can't stay here.” Tifa's voice was trembling, but she was refusing to show fear. He respected that.

“We need to leave. When did you say Cloud got the delivery job?” Vincent turned his back to her and walked closer to the door. He held the shutter's of the nearby window apart with two fingers and tucked the device back into his cloak pocket. The scarlet cloth hung taut on one side, lopsided with the bulge hanging around his rear. At any other time Tifa would have found this most amusing.

“Someone phone-” She stopped, looking around as though she had just remembered she needed to do the laundry or pick one of the kids up from school and was now late. “Oh my God, someone phoned last night, really late, and asked if he could make a special delivery to Wutai. They asked if it was possible he could leave tonight, it was important they got the package on time. You don't think- I mean, ShinRa?”

Vincent nodded without removing his gaze from outside. “Most likely. It would be easier to retrieve you without anyone's knowledge, at least until they took you wherever it is they needed. But it would seem fate has decided that you be spared. Where was he to pick up the delivery?”

Tifa looked at his back and began wiping the puddle on the floor with the mop from the closet in an attempt at finding something to do other than fidget. “He said somewhere in Kalm. He didn't go into details. What do mean by `fate has decided', I don't believe in fate, Vincent.”

He stopped and looked at her in mild surprise, the first emotion she had seen in his eyes all night. Vincent showing his feelings? That occurrence was as probable as lead turning to gold. And she was no alchemist. “Luck then. Whatever you want to call it, it's all the same. It's either fortune or fate that the kids are gone or this would be most difficult. Probably impossible. We need to-”

Vincent stopped mid-sentence, pulled out Cerberus in one fluid movement, aimed at Tifa's face and fired.

4

Tifa had no time to react. No time to scream, no time to move and no time to do anything other than let a stifled sob escape her lips.

Silence. The sound of rainwater droplets falling from the gutter into the puddles below could be heard outside. Then a loud thud.

Vincent had already holstered the gun, and then continued to speak as though he had just stopped to pick something from his teeth, “-As I was saying, we need to le-”

“Vincent! You could have shot me!” She was looking down at herself and touching her face and stomach as if to check she was still in one piece.

He smirked, “I never miss.”

Then she turned, dropped the mop with a clatter and screamed in horror.

Behind Tifa, laying slumped against the white-wash wall, lay a man, a pool of crimson creeping out from beneath and smeared behind him. And from what Tifa could tell he was a soldier, she wasn't very good with guns and could only gauge what was clutched in his hand as far as it being a type of pistol.

She turned white when she noticed the gaping hole in the back of his head, and the smear of clotted blood spattered behind. Vincent had shot him square between the eyes and taken half his head out the other side.

“There will be more, we need to leave. As much as I detest the man's inability to stay sober around me, I think we should visit Cid. Perhaps he has more information or can offer you a safer place to stay for the meantime.” She opened her mouth to ask a question. “Marlene and Denzel are best with Barret we shouldn't alert them to anything until you are safe with Cid. ShinRa are probably tapping the lines, if they see a call made to Barret and the children, they would have no qualms about persuasive interrogation to find our whereabouts.”

Vincent always had a way of settling her nerves, she felt a security around him she had lost when her father died. That feeling of knowing all is well in the world because you have someone to look up to and depend upon. Vincent may not show his feelings but Tifa knew he was always there when it mattered most.

The bruised bartender smiled meekly and asked the final question she needed the answer to before she could leave guilt-free. “What about cloud? Will he be ok? Maybe I should leave a not or something, or a message with the neighbours. Although I doubt Mrs. Metworth can remember anything longer than her own name.”

A pale hand found its place upon her shoulder. She looked at it in bewilderment, then quickly looked away. This was something she wanted to encourage, making a fuss would only have the opposite effect. Sometimes she thought cloud and Vincent could be very similar, but then again maybe all men were this way. Stubborn mules.

She was reminded of a bittersweet moment from her childhood. She could only figure she musn't have been that old, her mother was still alive then. But it was one of the most important lessons her mother could have taught her.

She had been chasing the robin for an hour when her mother came; haggard, thin and yellowing, but still still beautiful to her. Still so beautiful to Tifa. "Tifa, you can' just chase him. Your scaring him."

Tifa looked confused. "Touching a creature, animal or human, always requires trust." She remembered being pulled into a bony lap to watch the bird for hours. A tiny, hopeful handful of seeds, dirt and a crushed worm stashed in her pocket.

She tried to leave so many times and everytime her mother stopped her.

Eventually the small bird hopped towards them, head twitching and tilted to the side. Then as a most unexpected flutter, the bird landed upon her outstretched forearm. And her mother had smiled.

Her last smile Tifa would ever see.

"Remember Tifa, the bird must come to you."

The bird must come to you.

Perhaps I should impart this wisdom to Yuffie.

He was still talking.

“It's probably best you don't leave anything to suggest to anyone that you have gone, or where you have gone to. The address Cloud has is probably false, that way there is no trace of ShinRa. He'll think it an elaborate prank.” She was chewing her lip and looking completely unconvinced.

“Tifa, Cloud will be fine, we can leave a message with Yuffie later. She will probably be the first person he goes to visit once he realises the job is fake. ” That brightened her up. “Go upstairs and pack only the necessary items and garments you will require for the journey. You will need to travel light. The first stop will be Junon harbour.”

Still shaking, Tifa gave one last glance at the body and disappeared upstairs. Vincent stayed by the window with his fingertips twitching beside Cerberus.

5

At least he was dry now, though that wouldn't last for long. Another downpour had begun outside. They would have to take the old subway route under the mountains that divided Midgar and Junon. He had arrived here through that tunnel and was certain it was unused.

He had played amongst that rubble as a child, seen the old train that the other children of his village had described as being haunted. Of course, this never bothered him. He didn't believe in ghosts. He just hoped Tifa didn't either.

Not long after, she arrived downstairs carrying a small backpack which was soon slung over her shoulder. In one swift movement her hair was tied behind her and her gloves were pulled tight. The long, hooded coat, hat and waterproof trousers she was wearing meant she had heard the rain too. She looked around one last time.

“So Vincent are we getting Chocobos from the farm?”

He let a small chuckle escape his lips, but the dark smile that followed made her shiver. She shrugged, “I'll take that as a no. How do you propose we get to Junon then?”

“An old secret.” He tapped his nose, the most childish gesture she had ever seen him make. "Ready?” When she nodded they stepped outside, and she locked the door behind her. She studied the old rickety, paint stripped door and even older, more rickety building with sentimentality.

And Vincent, he studied it with the suspicion and precision of a marksman, a hunter, a predator. He smirked in shadow, then made off down the step, and round the corner. Tifa panicking, ran after until he was in sight again. The streets were dark and there was little light from the moon but every minute or so a flash of lightening illuminated the pavement and bit at the shadowy alleys and doorways.

They passed the occasional nightlife of Edge; drunks staggering from bars, prostitutes working the corners and rag-tag bums sleeping in doorways or behind trashcans in alleyways, usually a little brown paper bag clutched in their hands. A little 'pick-me-up'.

Just like the slums. This place hasn't really got any better.

She pulled the hood up, there were still ShinRa soldiers searching for her, she wasn't sure if they were mako exposed but she couldn't risk being recognised. Mako eyes could see through any level of darkness. And not being able to see the enemy when they can see you, leads to dangerous situations that even vincent may not be able to take control of.

He counted the seconds between each crunch of her feet. A silent approach never was her forte. Vincent just hoped she'd be smart enough to follow his instruction in the near future, or she would probably put hersef in jeopardy. Still, not his problem. There were reasons why he was helping her, he was surprised she hadn't asked 'why' earlier.

Perhaps she knew, perhaps she didn't want to think he was helping her only because he had something to gain, or maybe she thought he felt obligated. Any way he looked at it, the question seemed inevitable, and he would answer. But would he lie or tell the truth? There was still so much more she wasn't aware of. So naive, he thought.

This was so much bigger than just them.

She stopped. “Vincent?”

“Yes?”

“You knew he was there all along, didn't you?” She didn't need to turn to see the sinister smile that curled his lips. Now he was amused, When did she figure that out?