Uniforms, soldiers, war. I hate 'em all. They take away the things and people you love... I wish they'd all disappear.
...I see.
At the time, she hadn't heard the hollow note in Cloud's voice. At the time, she had thought he was agreeing with her. They had been hiding themselves on that container ship by blending in with the crew, disguised with Shin-Ra uniforms. She had hated that uniform, and not just because it itched in places you couldn't scratch. It was everything that it represented she despised. And so, unthinking, she'd blurted out her frustration and bitterness, and only much later had she realized what she'd done. Cloud was a soldier (if not a SOLDIER, as they later found out). Cloud still wore a uniform, even when he'd left Shin-Ra behind. Cloud was fighting a war, a personal one, as well as fighting for AVALANCHE's cause.
She had all but said she didn't want him around, and she'd had the gall to wonder why he was avoiding her in Costa del Sol. If anyone wanted to see her in a swimsuit, it would be him, she had thought. And privately, she admitted that she wanted him to want to see her in a swimsuit. But he hardly glanced at her. On the way to North Corel, he ranged ahead of her and the others, leaving in the morning and returning to the group only at night. He kept an awkward silence in camp, not looking at her, speaking only a few words to Aerith and Red XIII or snapping at the new arrival, Yuffie, to keep her hands off of his stuff. He ignored Barret, too, but that was hardly new. It left her distressed and stressed, wondering what his problem was. The answer came after he'd gone off with Aerith at the Saucer, and they'd all been subsequently thrown down the chute into the prison. She and Yuffie had stayed close to the tube, fretting over Red XIII's broken hind leg, their situation, and hoping either Cloud or Aerith had the presence of mind to hang onto the Restore materia. It had been a palpable relief when the two of them had landed in a heap an hour later, and Aerith had healed Red XIII in short order. Once again, Cloud had distanced himself from the group, but moved closer when he saw the looks the girls were getting.
"Nice pair of girlfriends you got there, soldier-boy. Mind sharing the wealth?" a man had leered at them as they made their way towards Coates' trailer. Yuffie had fumed, not being noticed, Aerith had taken a quick step between Red XIII and Cloud, and Tifa felt like someone had smacked her across the face.
Well, dammit. Fine mess you've made this time.
Fortunately, a few looks and comments were all they got before Cloud secured their release. But there was a new problem. Dio, the bananna-hammocked wonder, had given them a buggy as "compensation for their trouble". Which meant they were all in a rather confined space. And it was still awkward, as Cloud wasn't talking, Barret was driving (a rather impressive feat, what with only one hand and all), Yuffie was staying close to Aerith, Red XIII wasn't what you would call a conversationalist and now she herself was tongue-tied, fumbling for words only to have them slip away as she opened her mouth.
She reasoned with herself. It was a slip of the tongue. Surely he knew she didn't include him when she said that. Right? But one of Cloud's chief attributes was that he took responsibility for damn near everything. Normally it comforted her, knowing he was trying his best to take care of their merry little band, but now it was working squarely against her.
She had never found the proper moment to apologize. From Gongaga, to Cosmo Canyon, to the rebuilt Nibelheim and Rocket Town to Wutai...the list grew as their journey went on. Even the night at the Gold Saucer, when she had marched herself into his room and wisked him onto a "date", a fine a time as any, she had failed.
Then came the Temple of the Ancients and dear Gaia, the Forgotten Capital, where their group had it's heart torn out. Cloud had started to break, not just chip but fracture, and she hadn't done a thing, just kept doing what she'd been doing. In hindsight, she would never forgive herself for that.
Everything came to a head at the Northern Crater. Cloud had been shattered, and she'd been helpless. No. Not helpless. Hesitant, which was so much worse given the situation. To this day, she still believed she could have lessened the blow somehow. Been more open, called him on the little details she knew were wrong, supported him when Sephiroth made his play. Apologized and let him know he wasn't alone. But she hadn't, and the cost of her retiscence had been entirely too high. She had been giddy to find him in Mideel, and heartbroken when he didn't even see her, just staring into nothing with a vacant expression on his face. Her trip through his memories had been insightful. It made her feel worse, seeing the primary source of his pariah status in the village had, once again, been her. Helping him put himself back together had seemed the least she could do, giving him words of encouragement and patience as best she could.
The night under the Highwind had been the closest they had ever come. But even then, neither of them had words. Cloud, the real Cloud he once again was, had always been quiet, and she was still kicking herself for accusing him of being "sure messed up!" in front of the others when he explained his past, displaying her small-town origins and a startling lack of tact normally associated with Yuffie all at once. Some half-hearted hints on her part had not gotten through, and in the end they ended up just sitting together under the airship, her head on his shoulder and hoping to see another sunrise.
Meteorfall came and went, and they tried to make a life. But Geostigma had driven Cloud to a familiar breaking point, and he left before he could shatter in front of them again. He saw no purpose he could serve for their mismatched family, and so sought seclusion so they wouldn't see him die. Tifa had realized that, in Cloud's mind, there hadn't been anything tying him there other than a roof. All that time, and he still thought that she kept him around because it was convenient for her. That there was nothing between them, and never could be, because of a few ill-chosen words years in the past. She had vacilitated between anger at him, anger at herself, a deep melancholy, and general railing against the world, which never seemed to give them a break.
And so here she found herself, at his bedroom door, staring at the wood paneling as she worked up the nerve to knock. Cloud was home, Geostigma was gone, Denzel was healthy, and life was good. Had the chance to be, anyway. Who knew when the next crisis would come rolling around? Here was her chance, maybe her last one, and come hell, high water, or Rufus Shinra in a Moogle suit, she was taking it. And Gaia help the rich bastard if the latter was the case.
Tifa took a deep breath, and knocked.
As a first story submitted sort of thing, I'd appreciate any feedback.
AN - Keeping important things to yourself *doesn't usually help matters*. One may take this story as Tifa beating up on herself, but honestly, if you look at the compilation, they're both dysfunctional. Tifa just hides it better.