The dream was always the same.

The light was heading towards them. Cloud could hear Cid cursing, Yuffie's scream of panic, the various shouts and utterances from every passenger on the Highwind, as the power of Holy raced towards them. Cloud tried to face the blaze head-on, but had to duck away at the last minute, cowed by its brilliance. He felt Tifa grab his hand…

…but the flesh slipped off in his hand like old leather. Horrified, Cloud looked up to see Tifa's face melted and burned beyond recognition, the bloated, charred tongue lolling in her skull like a slug. Cloud tried to scream, tried to pull his hand away, but his skin was burning, his bones twisting, the pain was unbearable…

Tifa woke up gasping, drenched to the skin with sweat. She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry- a moment of vestigial panic; was her throat split open and dry from the searing heat? No, no, not real, not real. One breath. Two breaths. Her heart was calming down now, no longer slamming itself against her sternum in an attempt to escape. A dream. Only a dream.

Instinctively, Tifa reached over to the other side of the bed, but dropped her hand at the last second. Even after a month of sleeping alone, she still wasn't used to it, still slept curled up on the left side of her bed. The only difference now was that she was curled around a lumpy pillow, instead of Cloud.

Tifa lay back down, trying to soothe her jangled nerves. She had been having these dreams for a week now. Each time, she was someone other than herself, and every dream ended with her, as the other, being burnt and polluted by dream-Tifa. There was no rhyme or reason in these dreams. They didn't follow what had actually happened when Holy burst towards the Highwind, they didn't express anything Tifa herself had done, and there had certainly been no wrenching, disfiguring force. No one had been burnt alive, least of all her.

Lying in bed, Tifa turned her head to the low window on the eastern side of the bedroom. She could see a few quiet pines, a sliver of bright moon. The early morning was peaceful and lovely, certainly not a night for sweat-slick nightmares. Especially seeing as Tifa had never had more than a few nightmares in her entire life, and only following major emotional upheavals- she usually slept like a coma patient. Seven straight days of bad dreams was extremely unusual for her, and she didn't know what to do about it. "It's got to stop," she mumbled aloud.

She looked at the clock. Four in the morning- with any luck, Vincent would still be awake.

"Vincent? It's me," Tifa's voice came over the phone.

Vincent groaned and squinted at the clock. "You do realize it's not yet sunrise?"

"…sorry…" came her sheepish mumble. "..thought you'd still be up."

The reticence in Tifa's tone surprised him. "I'm up," he assured her, "I just prefer to pretend I'm not. Sometimes, I can convince myself that it's not insomnia, it's just a very dull and realistic dream." Her responding laughter seemed small. "Is everything all right?"

"I guess so," Tifa said, "but I could use some advice. I've been having these horrible dreams lately, and I can't seem to shake it."

Vincent sat up and touched a button next to the bed, causing the overhead lights to emit an answering glow. "All right…?"

Tifa explained her dream to him. Silently, Vincent didn't find it particularly terrible, but he knew his experience with nightmares was a little more exhaustive than most peoples'. After all, he'd had a couple decades of solid bad dreams. Still, the incredible detail in Tifa's explanation was noteworthy, particularly the intricacy with which she described the snapping of bone and burning of her flesh. "So, you're never yourself?"

"Never. I'm always a different person in the party."

"You've had this dream seven times"?

"Yes."

"May I ask…who were you, ah, 'playing' each time?"

Tifa was silent for a moment. "The first time-and this last time-I dreamt I was seeing it as Cloud. The second time I was you, the third time I was…" She paused. "The third time, I seemed to be watching it from outside the plane, and I- I mean, Tifa was reaching out towards me…er, whoever I was."

Now it was Vincent's turn to keep mum.

"Vin?"

"I'm thinking. You dreamt you were me?"

"Uh, yeah. Does it bug you?"

"Only because I'm not aware of the context."

"Look, it's really scaring me. I've never in my entire life had really vivid dreams, and now I'm having them all the time. I don't like it very much."

"Obviously. Have you told Cloud?"

"Uh…" Tifa sounded strangled. "Um, no."

Vincent frowned. "…?"

Tifa coughed. "Yeah, no, um, Cloud's not…I mean, he doesn't know. I mean, whatever, he wouldn't know what to say, right?" She gave a strangled little titter. "He'd probably just say, 'oh, you must have eaten something weird before bed.' You know how he is."

"Based on how you're talking, I know he isn't there."

Tifa was quiet.

"Tifa."

"Okay, no, he isn't. Cloud and I aren't really speaking right now. He's staying at Cid's."

"Oh, Tifa…" Vincent shook his head, knowing Tifa wouldn't be able to see him. "How long have you two been fighting?"

"We're not fighting," she said sharply. "Matter of fact, we're not anything. He barely spoke to me for two weeks, and then a month ago he just looks at me in the middle of breakfast and says, 'I'm going out'…and that was the last thing he said to me. I went upstairs a few hours later, and all his stuff was gone."

Vincent didn't know what to say. "Tifa, I…I'm sorry. Had you fought?"

"No!" she insisted, "We were getting along just fine. In fact, he had been talking about moving out of Kalm and getting a better place somewhere outside Junon. I mean, we had problems, but what couple doesn't?"

This was not the conversation Vincent wanted to have this early in the morning. With a sigh, he reached down and fished a shirt off the floor. "Tifa, dreams are one thing, but please don't ask me to be your couple's counsellor."

"Oh, sorry."

"No, wait, I didn't—"

"Whatever, Vincent. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Sorry for bothering you. Goodnight."

"T—" Too late. She had hung up. Vincent sighed again and began to dress, looking bleakly at the desert dawn. Sunrise, sunset, and everything astrological may have been venerated in the rest of Cosmo Canyon, but as far as Vincent was concerned, the passage of solar time only served to remind him of his long and sleepless nights.

Of course, Cloud and Tifa had gotten together after the end of their long adventure. It had seemed only natural- Tifa's face followed him like a sunflower turns to the light, and Cloud had seemed…well, Vincent privately never thought Cloud had seemed all that interested in Tifa, or any other woman, but the pair had seemed happy enough. He hadn't heard from Tifa in a couple weeks, but she had seemed all right when she last called him.

It had only been two years since the destruction of Sephiroth and Meteor, and the AVALANCHE crew had parted ways. Tifa and Cloud had moved in together in a house in Kalm; Tifa had thought about opening another restaurant, but business in the area was slow and she had decided to wait until more of Midgar was rebuilt. Cid returned to Rocket Town, re-christened it Highwind, and proclaimed himself the mayor. Oddly enough, the citizenry had been quite happy with it, and last time he'd visited, the town had been thriving. Cid still lived with Shera, and claimed there was nothing between them, but most would agree Shera felt differently. Barret had made a similar move, returning to Corel in order to rebuild the depressed area. Yuffie went home to Wutai, where she was probably having a fine time fighting with her father and practicing her martial arts.

Vincent himself, having no home to return to, had agreed to accompany Nanaki back to Cosmo Canyon. He felt that if there was nothing else to do for a while, he may as well learn something of Planetary history. The incident two years ago had changed much in the way of topography and biology, and scholars at the Canyon were eager to gather as much new information as they could. Someone like Vincent, who had traveled the world during the upheaval, was very valuable to them, and he passed most of his time with the Canyon elders, helping with cartography and passing on bits of information about Shinra's early reactors- data that was now more important historically. With them, Vincent and Nanaki had also taken Cait Sith- what was left of him, anyways. The stuffed cat had stopped talking and moving after the advance of Holy. The general consensus of the party was that Reeve was either killed in the blast, or simply lost control of the technology controlling the toy, and hadn't been able to rebuild it. Either way, the furry hulk stood in the corner of Vincent's room, silent, just in case it was ever reclaimed. The other party members pronounced this morbid, but Vincent rather liked the situation. It saved him a great deal of time in decorating.

Fully dressed now, Vincent sat on his small balcony and watched the sun come up over the horizon. Below him, the denizens of the Canyon were performing their morning ritual, chanting blowing small reed flutes that emitted a birdlike hoot traditionally believed to chase away lingering spirits who roamed the night, as Nanaki had explained to him. Vincent was often invited to join the ceremony, but always abstained, preferring as usually to be an observer.

He pondered Tifa's dream. What could it mean, appearing so long after the Meteor incident? Lingering trauma? Guilt and self-blame from her problems with Cloud? Or was it something more sinister, something more…supernatural? He didn't know, but he desperately wanted to find out. Vincent himself had felt uneasy lately, as if there was something important he had forgotten to do.

"Give me the status report."

"Yes, Madame President." Reno stood to the left, Rude to the right, and Elena right behind him, facing the window. "The Company has no money, no clout, and no prestige. Everyone thinks we dissolved, we've lost our Mako sources, and everyone thinks you're dead."

Leslie Shinra took a long drag of her cigarette. Reno watched, fascinated, as her red lips pursed around the small cylinder, caressing it, it seemed. "Perfect. That will make secret operations so much easier."

Reno coughed.

President Shinra gestured to their rather unpleasant new base. A small, claustrophobic basement room below an abandoned grocery store in Sector Four with grease stains on the walls and piles of garbage in the corners. Reno remembered the former pomp and splendour of the Shinra Building with not a little wistfulness. Moving back in was out of the question, though- several former slum dwellers were squatting in the marble lobbies and plush, carpeted meeting rooms, "reclaiming" what the Shinra had "taken" from them. Call it what you want, Reno thought grimly, but it's still pretty slummy.

"Look at this place." President Shinra's face was contorted with disgust. "If my father could only see this dump- he'd have a heart attack." She banged her fist on the table in front of her. "I will not see my family reduced to this state forever, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Madame President," the three Turks chorused.

"You are Turks. Your loyalty is to Shinra Incorporated until the day life leaves your bodies. Am I wrong?"

"You're absolutely right, Madame President," Elena piped up.

"Don't patronize me."

"Yes, ma'am…"

Rude cleared his throat. "…if I may ask…orders?"

President Shinra stubbed out her half-finished cigarette and promptly lit a second. "Cloud Strife and his cronies. They have been confirmed dead?"

The Turks looked at one another uncomfortably.

"Well? If I remember correctly, my brother's last commands to you were to seek them out and eliminate them once and for all." She looked from one blank face to another. "I see. Was this deliberate insubordination?"

"No, ma'am," Elena said, "we simply were not appraised of the situation properly. We were not told how much materia the group was carrying, or we could have taken them out."

"What Elena means," Reno interrupted, "is that Cloud and the others had been—"

"I am not interested in your excuses. That goes for both of you." President Shinra eyed Elena, who was bristling under the criticism. The blonde woman opened her mouth, then closed it with a grimace. "You were unable, for whatever reason you like, to kill three very ordinary people, no matter how well-equipped they were. Do you know anything of their current whereabouts?"

"We've done some reconnaissance, but it's not conclusive," said Reno. "We know, for instance, that one party member seems to be deceased, but we're not sure which. The group is fractured now, anyways, but most have returned to their hometowns. The former Shinra pilot, for instance, Cid Highwind—"

"Cid Highwind doesn't worry me." Shinra studied the burning tip of her cigarette. "He's the lord of some West Continent hick town, fine. We'll go in when it's necessary. That area never had a strong Shinra presence, and I'm not going to worry about building one until we reclaim more significant regions. Junon, for example."

"Yes, Madame president. We also know that Cloud Strife was last seen in Kalm, but that was over two months ago. Is that enough of a lead, or would you like us to confirm his location?"

Leslie Shinra thought for a moment. Reno took the time to appraise her bosom as it strained out of the tailored suit jacket, and decided to award her a seven out of ten. "Two months?"

"Six and a half weeks."

"That's not impossible." She eyed him coldly, and Reno felt momentarily unnerved. "Not for a Turk, hmm?"

"No, ma'am."

"Very well. I'd like someone to search Kalm. If he's there in any permanent sense, he must be in a record somewhere. If not, you should be able to track his activity. Go immediately."

"You're a damn fool."

"I know that, thank you." Cloud took another swig his beer.

"She's a damn pretty woman. Smart, too."

"Cid, this is not about Tifa, okay? Tifa is great. I like Tifa. I might love her, I don't know." Cloud stared at the ceiling. "It's me."

"Bullshit! You don't know if you're in love with her after living with her for two years?"

"Exactly. The problem is with me." Cloud picked up his glass and downed the rest of the golden liquid in one gulp. "I've never been what she wanted me to be, and she started mentioning it." He looked straight at Cid. "You know what she said a couple months ago? I forgot it was our anniversary, and she said, 'I bet the real Cloud would have remembered.'"

Cid raised an eyebrow. "That's not like her."

"I know it's not."

"That's downright bitchy. Not even true."

"I know. That's my point exactly. I seem to bring out the worst in her." He sighed. "Maybe it's just time for us to stop being in a romantic relationship."

"Yeah, well, you should have said something to her."

"It's not like I didn't try, Cid. I called her after I got here and asked her what she thought."

"And?"

"She said it was too late to start talking about my feelings and she wasn't aware I had any, and hung up."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

Shera poked her head out from inside the house. "Cloud? Can I get you another beer?"

"I'll get it myself, Shera, thanks." Cloud stood up and grabbed his glass. "I can finish the dishes, if you like."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate it."

Inside the house, Cloud shook his head. He had tried. Whether he had failed or not, he'd given his relationship with Tifa everything he could, but they didn't seem to want the same things. It was difficult for her to understand his moments of withdrawal, and he couldn't cope with her bouts of emotion. Cloud had never been much for sweeping declarations of love and fits of postcoital crying, and Tifa's expectations had frightened him. He could not be a bleeding heart, and Tifa could no more easily stop expressing her feelings. She had done nothing wrong, but Cloud had noticed lately that they enjoyed each other more when behaving as friends. Perhaps that was just what they were meant to be.

Cloud was drying the last dish when the phone rang. He heard Shera run in and answer it in the bedroom. A few moments later, she walked into the kitchen. "Cloud? Sorry to disturb you, but Vincent is on the phone.'

"Oh. Thanks, Shera. Can I take it in your room?"

"Sure, go right ahead."

"Thanks."

Cloud walked into Shera's bedroom and sat down on the chair next to the bed. If Vincent was calling, there was probably something going on back in Kalm. Cloud knew that Vincent would never try to make him hash out the Tifa situation, like Cid kept doing, but he probably wouldn't be calling on his own behalf, either. Vincent hated phones. "Vincent?"

"Cloud? Hello."

"Hi. What's going on?"

"I won't bother with small talk, Cloud. Tifa called me early this morning." Cloud inwardly groaned. "She's rather upset."

"Vincent, I—"

"It has little to do with you," Vincent said without rancour, "she's just been experiencing some unpleasant dreams as of late. Nightmares, really."

Cloud remained quiet.

"It's really disquieted her. I think you should call."

"Look, Vincent, I'm sure she told you what was going on with us. If I call, it'll just make things worse. Last time I tried, she wouldn't even speak to me. What am I supposed to do?"

"Cloud, let me explain her dreams. Is that all right with you?"

Cloud sighed. "Yeah, okay…"

Vincent told Cloud what Tifa had related to him. As the older man's story went on, Cloud felt icy fear grip his heart. The dream was more than familiar to him- for a week now, he'd been having the exact same nightmare. He stopped Vincent in the middle of a sentence. "This is exactly what she told you?"

"Yes, she—"

"She dreamed she was me?"

"Yes."

"And you?"

"Cloud, yes. What are you—"

"Did you have a dream like this?" Cloud demanded.

"No."

"You're sure?"

"I'm entirely sure, Cloud. As it is, I haven't slept in three days. How would I dream?"

"Oh, man…" Cloud slumped over in the bed. He gazed at his crossed leg and noticed his free hand was shaking slightly. Making a fist, he continued, "All right. I'll head back to Kalm and talk to her."

"Cloud, there's one more thing." Vincent's voice sounded more unsure than usual. "I believe it's important."

"Yeah?"

"You know how I have the Cait Sith in my room?"

"Yeah, and I still think it's kind of gross."

"Cloud, be silent and listen." Vincent was more normal now. "It's been static ever since the destruction of Meteor, as you know. Well, after Tifa called me, I went out to watch the sunrise. When I came back it…" Vincent stopped for a minute, as if searching for the right word. "…it seemed…alive again."

"Really?" Cloud leapt to his feet.

"Not the way it used to be, but its eyes seemed less dark, as if it were just waking up. When I went over to investigate…a fortune popped out of the Mog."

"Holy shit."

"Yes, that was pretty much my reaction, as well. I have it here. May I read it to you?"

"Of course."

"'347 Poplar Building, Sector Six.' Does that mean anything?"

A wave of disappointment washed over Cloud, and he slumped back onto the chair. "Dammit, no. I mean, it's a Wall Market address, that's clear, but what does that mean these days?"

"I don't know, but it's a spooky coincidence. You two having these dreams, and then Cait Sith coming back to…well, not life, but you know what I mean."

"God. 347 Poplar Building? What is that?"

"Not sure. I believe we should investigate, don't you?"

"Yeah, you're probably right." Cloud scratched his ankle, worry gnawing at him like a maggot. "I can be in Kalm by later tonight. Should I have Cid pick you up, too?'

"Yes, thank you. I think we have much to talk about."

Tifa was waiting nervously in the living room when she heard familiar voices out on the front walk. Three steps, a knock, and then the door opened. "Tifa?"

She stood up. Tifa was wearing a new dress- sort of a rosy pink, short, but not too short. The color set off her skin and dark hair, and she took a little comfort in knowing that she looked lovely, even if her intestines were wrestling in her gut. "Cloud? Come in."

He pushed the door further open and looked at her for a minute before crossing the floor and pulling her into a hug. Tifa hugged back, pleasantly surprised to see the warmth in his eyes, and even more surprised that she wasn't throwing herself into his embrace. I can handle this, she thought. "Cloud, I…"

Cloud stepped back and put a hand on her cheek. "Later?"

"Of course." Tifa turned to the door and threw a big smile at Vincent. "Vin, hi, thank you so much."

"Certainly." The dark-haired man seemed slightly uncomfortable witnessing their greeting, but Tifa insisted on giving him a hug as well. "I thought I should come along. I, too, would like some answers."

"Fair enough," Tifa said, giving him an extra squeeze. "You look good, Vin. I haven't seen you in too long."

She looked up at him, expecting a response, but Vincent's eyes were evasive, troubled. Some of her good humour flattened, and she backed away. "Well, ah…are we going tonight?"

"Can we go tomorrow?" Cloud asked. "It's pretty late. If this is someone's home we're going to, I doubt they'll appreciate us barging in at bedtime."

Vincent looked at him, then at Tifa. Oh, I see… "Of course."

Tifa got a spare blanket from the linen closet and handed it t Vincent. "Are you all right on the couch?"

"Yes, thank you." Vincent sat down on the couch, placing the folded blanket next to him. "Goodnight."

Upstairs in the bedroom, Tifa stood with her arms crossed. Her body was towards Cloud, but she couldn't quite look him in the eyes. "So. We need to talk."

"Can you at least come over here and sit down?" Tifa glanced over at him. Cloud was sitting on the bed. He noticed her looking and patted the space next to him. "Come on, please? I know you're angry, but I'm glad to see you."

Tifa sighed, but she crossed the room and took a seat next to Cloud, smoothing her dress over her hips. "All right. Better?"

"Much. Thanks." She could feel his eyes on her. "You look fantastic."

"Thank you. Can we talk about the important stuff now, please?" It gave her a perverse pleasure to hear his admiration, but her anger was strong enough to prevent her from feeling any warmth at his remark.

Now it was Cloud's turn to sigh. "Tifa, look. We haven't been happy in a while. Every time we get into a discussion, it ends up becoming an argument about each others' shortcomings. You're not pleased with how I react to things, and I'm not crazy about how you can be, either."

Tifa's chest felt tight, her throat almost closing. "I never said that."

"I know you didn't, but I also know you well enough that I can tell when you're not happy." Cloud put his hand over hers and squeezed. "Admit it, Tifa, you'd be better off with someone more…sensitive."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "Maybe. That doesn't mean I don't still want us to work."

"Do you think wanting it work is enough to make it work?"

Tifa thought for a minute. Her heart was so heavy in her chest, she was afraid it would splash into her stomach.

Taking advantage of her silence, Cloud pressed on. "Tifa, don't you think it's kind of telling that we've lived together for almost two years without once saying 'I love you'? Or talking about the future?"

"Well…"

"You're my best friend, Tifa. I can't imagine life without you, but I don't think we can continue as we have been." Cloud put his arm around her and looked into her eyes. Tifa stared into his with sadness, regret…and a little relief. "Can we try just being friends for a while, please?"

She was quiet at first, then said, "You know, if you'd been this forthcoming with your feelings in the first place, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

Cloud looked chagrined for a moment. Then, a smile broke out on his face and he began to laugh. "You're absolutely right about that."