Silence.

Is it shock? Sudden, absolutely reasonable alert to what might be an impending battle that hasn't quite vanished since his first encounter with the silver-haired War Hero?

One does not easily let go of what Sephiroth is to the people of Gaia when they know all that happened.

Or is it that sickening lurch of anger of seeing Cloud, his friend, cradled in the arms of the man who had puppeted the blond and tormented his very identity?

It's probably a shock that Vincent's expression change so little, even given his usual taciturn manner. In the moments they regard each other, to when Sephiroth steps forward and shoves Cloud into the former Turk's arms, and finally as silver hair whisks after the form that disappears back into his cabin, there is a tense and pregnant quiet of fate waiting expectantly for something to happen.

The door closes with a click. Vincent looks at the door. Down to a Cloud that reeks of alcohol and back again to the door. Finally, his surroundings are examined.

There is a sigh when no explanations are forthcoming as to what the hell just happened. Tucking the blond into the crook of his left arm, Vincent fishes out his communicator.

Thanks to Lucy MacLean, he has an excellent understanding of its functions and features, but texting at least had been familiar already. He taps out a message, stows it back, then swiftly and somehow without a bit of jostling, slips in utter silence back to the stairs and up a level to the floor with his own cabin.

He would have done this anyway. Leaving an inebriated Cloud alone in his own cabin with no guarantee that he'd not wander off again and leave two men with more hours of searching was not an option. But now? Not Cloud has answers Vincent expects to be thoroughly answered.

Concern and care are certainly foremost in Vincent Valentine's mind. But he is not without... some frustration over the last few hours. Perhaps that is why, when presented with the option- on arriving back to his cabin- Vincent glances from the guest room door to the room that was... well, probably not a guest room.

Entering the latter, Vincent shoves the lid off the ensconced coffin with his foot. Thunk. Roomy, lined with purple, cushioned satin, Cloud is placed inside it. For the record, it really is comfy. No, Vincent isn't going to go so far as to put the lid back on, but he does leave a bucket by the edge.

He's not a monster.

The room is a little more furnished than that skeleton and coffin filled chamber of the Shinra Mansion that Cloud and the others had found Vincent sleeping in. There's a table and nice looking chair in the corner with a reading lamp, a book case with some books and a wardrobe. Go ahead and ask him sometime if those had been in there or he had put them there. Maybe you'll get an answer.

There's certainly no vending machine.

Into the chair Vincent ensconces himself to wait. Quietly, patiently, and for the first part, with his communicator in hand passing messages to someone. With curtains drawn over the bedroom's windows, it will remain in shadows even should what passes for daylight on the Barge come before Cloud awakens.

But surely he'll be noticed. Eventually If not by the scarlet cloak picking the figure of the man out of the shadows, then certainly by ruby eyes.

"Cloud."

Vincent doesn't even try to hide it. And, while there may have been a picture taken earlier that evening, at least he doesn't take the opportunity to capture the moment a second time. Pity. It's even better.

But the man isn't particularly interested in network clout.

There is the click of a light switch. The reading lamp is very soft and its shade has been angled so the bulb- already oil light level as it is- doesn't shine with full force on the blond.

There are signs he got up at some point. An empty mug on the side table. An open book. Did he sleep? He could have napped in the chair but it looks like he's been keeping watch. Vincent studies Cloud very closely. Are there questions? Yes, there are so many questions. But no signs that he's going to ask them, yet.

"Pail's to your right." Don't puke in his coffin, Strife.