The Strings Attached

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Characters: Tifa, Cloud
Rating: M

Disclaimer: Property of Squaresoft. No money is being made off this.

Summary: Life goes on, despite everything; and Tifa and Cloud try to reconcile a relationship that's decades old--recognizing that theirs is a dark, obsessive kind of love.

Chapter 1

In looking at the case of Cloud Strife and Tifa Lockhart (among the saviors of the world), one of two things immediately becomes clear: one, that they were two incredibly, physically strong people; and two, that they had deep-seated issues.

Nothing had changed that. Nothing--in the years after the advent of Meteor, and even beyond Geostigma, or the completion of the Edge…

They were just two incredibly delicate people trying to live life in the best way they could; the best way they knew how.

In the intervening years, Tifa's Seventh Heaven had become a refugee of sorts: rebuilt after Midgar's destruction and now thriving—there was always a steady stream of customer and enough revenue from Strife's Delivery Service and her small bar that Cloud and Tifa never had to worry about finances. And they stayed together, because…well…because it just seemed right…

Like it was the right thing to do.

And because, even though they never said it outright, they—in some strange (and some observers might say, twisted) way—needed each other.

To stave off the madness…

It was mid-afternoon---too early for bar patrons to begin drinking and too late for any to remain drinking from the night before—when a friend dropped by (they usually do). Tifa was wiping away the tables when the door swung open.

"Welcome to Tifa's Seventh—Barrett!"

"Hey, hey!" His voice boomed out. Still as loud as ever—all that mining-related noises had permanently impaired his hearing and raised the volume of his voice for perpetuity.

Tifa dropped the towel she was cleaning with and ran up to hug her friend, exclaiming, "It's been too long. What have you been—oh, never mind that. Here, sit down."

She ushered him over to take a seat by the bar and hurried behind it--always the gracious hostess. She smiled. "You must be tired. I hear," She said, grabbing a glass and pouring in whiskey (his favorite), "that Corel is having a vote to put you in office. So, should I call you Mr. Mayor from now on?"

She placed the glass in front of him and he gave a grimace, "Mister Mayor? Hah! Don't get me wrong, I love that place with all my heart…do anything to rebuild it. But I don't want the title."

"Why not?"

Barrett took a sip of the whiskey, "I just--hey," he stops, smacking his lips before deciding, "That's good stuff."

"Saved it for you."

"Thanks. You're a real sweetheart, you know that?"

Barrett frowned, "Speaking of sweethearts, how's Cloud been treating you?"

You mean, you didn't ask him yourself?

"Oh, you know, we're good." Which meant okay, could be better, but she's not complaining (not that she ever would).

And Tifa's visibly uncomfortable with the subject, changing the topic by saying, "Never mind that, what about mayor? I think you'd make a good leader, Barrett. You did it for the Avalanche. Sure, you're a little hotheaded, but a little passion is good."

Barrett mulled over his drink, thinking, 'a little passion,' you'd ever think of telling Cloud that, Tifa?

It would've been too hard to bring up…

So Barrett left it at that and answered, "Meh, Corel's just, you know…they want one of the 'heroes' to lead them. But I tell em' I ain't no hero. I ain't nuthin' special."

"Barrett…"

"They should stop tryin' to look towards someone else for heroes and start lookin' at themselves."

That's the entire problem, he seemed to say. People grow complacent after the storm is over. The old ways emerge in the guise of the new.

"Besides," Barrett continued, "Me being Mayor and all, you'd be seeing even less of me. And Marlene, well, she'd never forgive me if I took her away from here on account of me not being able to show up once in a while."

"I supposed…"

Tifa's quiet. Pensive. She's thinking about selfish she's been. So, I concern myself with maintaining my little bar, my life, my small piece of happiness…while everyone's still out there is trying to save the world in their own way.

"I wouldn't know, Barrett. I'm sure Marlene doesn't blame you for being away all the time. You're not retired like me," she laughed—but it's a sad, self-deprecating laugh, the type that gets Barrett all pained inside seeing her like this.

"You're not retired, Tifa. Hell, you gots just as important a job as any of us," he told her, indicating the rows of picture framing the wall behind her.

She turned to see the polaroids reflection of her 'family.' All the orphans she and Cloud had taken in together. A record of their life.

"Playing mom to all the kids, heh. That ain't an easy job," Barrett commented, adding, "Lord knows I can't do it."

And Tifa has to smile—just a little.

It always came back to the kids. Such a ragtag group of people pieced together by coincidence, all to make a strangely coherent 'family.' They had considered her Seventh Heaven their home…

It was Tifa's suggestion. And she had managed to convince herself that it was a purely altruistic act, one borne out of compassion. But the deeper she dug (if she was willing to look that far), she had to have known that there was some other aspect (selfishness) in it; that she had somehow thought that this was a way to keep Cloud around. That, with the buffer between them—those lost and stray children--they'd maintain a better sense of sanity. Play house, Tifa. Make believe.

And Cloud had accepted. What had started out with one child (not counting Marlene), Denzel, had expanded into several: Sarah, Michael, Art, Peter, and Dane. Cloud just started taken in more and more; he never said why, but she knew.

It was always about redemption with Cloud.

As if he could never wash away the sins completely---never become clean enough. That he was always blaming himself somehow for the way the world had been after Sephiroth---as if he, Cloud, had as good as orphaned these kids himself.

"Besides," Barrett said, interrupting Tifa's errant (dark) thoughts, "ain't nothing wrong if you was retired. We'd all been heroes long enough. We deserve it…" Barrett relaxed on his stool; he had the figure of a world weary traveler. Tired and nostalgic.

"Daddy!"

Barrett immediately snapped his head towards the sound of her voice—like a burst of sunshine through the clouds. "Marlene!"

The little girl had heard a commotion, heard that familiar voice and didn't even bother changing out of her pajamas when she rushed downstairs and flung herself into her father's arms.

And he gladly scooped her up, sitting her on his lap and practically overflowing with happiness at this being with her.

"Daddy, don't cry. It's embarrassing!"

Tifa smiled. Barrett was just a big stuff animal underneath it all.

She handed Marlene a napkin and the little girl took it, wiping away at the big man's tears.

"Dad, you have to stop doing that every time you come back to see me."

"I'm sorry," Barrett sniffled, "Daddy's just so happy to see you."

Marlene rolled her eyes at the sentimental huff, and then kissed his cheeks, soothingly. "It's ok. Hey, Dad," she said, remembering, "how long are you staying this time? A week, yes? Please, please. Say you'll stay a week."

Barrett nodded. Whatever he can do for his little girl…

"Yah!" She clasped her arms around his thick neck and kissed him again on the cheeks, before jumping off and saying, "I'm going to get dressed. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

And Marlene was off, rushing up the stairs like she couldn't finish up fast enough.

Tifa laughed, "Barrett, you'd better take those kisses while you still can. Soon she'll be too old and think that kissing you is gross."

"What?!"

"You've seen Yuffie with her dad," she said by way of illustration.

Barrett huffed, "Marlene ain't nuthin' like Yuffie. My girl's an angel. Not like that she-devil."

Tifa shook her head, laughing, "Okay, Barrett. I'll go get your room ready."


Barrett walked with Tifa upstairs. The place was cramped, but Barrett had the sense that its occupants didn't really mind.

He passed by the boys room--the largest room in the house (it had to be, considering the ratio of boys to girls)—and frowned, suddenly peeved by something. "Tifa," he growled, "you sure it's all right to keep these guy's room next to the girls like this?"

"Barrett," she chuckled, "they're children."

"Little horndogs, that's what they are. Sure they're all innocent and wide-eyed now. But come that age, they'll be trying to hump anything they can get."

"Barrett!"

"What? It's true. All little boys at that age are the same---I know, I've been there. I'm just looking out for Marlene, all right. I think you should too."

At that moment, Denzel ran out with another boy, bumping pass Tifa, "Oh, hey. Sorry, Tifa." Then he was off, without another notice—just going out to play.

Barrett shook his head, stern. "And inconsiderate."