After she realizes that she's been wiping the same spot of her counter for over ten minutes, she sets the rag aside. The bar is filled with the echoes of silence and there won't be any patrons for a few hours at least. Denzel and Marlene are out playing—it's one of Denzel's good days—and Cloud's probably wherever it is Cloud is on a daily basis.
A pang of something reverberates through her and she releases a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Edge is starting to come up around their ears, people eking out a living because while it's hard, it's easier than letting go. Some people had put as much distance between themselves and the ruins of Midgar as they could and Tifa understands that, understands the need to abandon the flinders of the past, but Midgar had become home through years of working and working and hoping and hoping, and she couldn't leave it behind. Besides, the people needed someone to believe in, and it seemed it was expected of her because she had helped defeat Sephiroth.
That, and most people these days seem to need a drink.
Last week, Denzel had asked about their dreams: he'd wanted a cure for the Stigma; Marlene had wanted her back (oh, the memories that had brought on); and Tifa had had to think, and she finally decided on Cloud coming back.
It's not a new wish—not really—even if it's a little different now.
Back then, she'd wanted him to come back to rescue her, wanted him to fulfill some dream of grandness where she needed someone and there he was, wanted to experience the thrill of being meaningful enough to someone that they would risk it all for her. It had been terribly romantic, especially to a girl in backwater Nibelheim. Now, she needs him and he's nowhere to be found.
Loss is a heavy burden to bear, and bearing it together is more than he seems able to comprehend.
Sometimes, she thinks the wrong person died. Aeris had this way of bringing people together, of seeing into their hearts and helping them to see what they needed. Tifa's not like that. She's good for a quick spar and a drink, but she can't help Cloud in the way he needs help.
All she has to offer is a bar that still doesn't feel like home and a bed that will never be his.
But still—she wishes he'd come back, because there's so much of everything, because Denzel is dying and there's nothing she can do about it, because she feels alone here, so alone, and she doesn't want romance or to be rescued. Not this time. She just wants him here, with her, so that they can look after each other, so that they can help each other. Because they're a family, whether he likes it or not. Except Cloud doesn't want help—he just wants to suffer, and Tifa's done with suffering, except she's not because she has no choice in the matter.
Her loneliness isn't what she chose for herself, it just came about when the jagged pieces of her life rearranged, and what can she do but keep pouring drinks? Because everyone needs a drink, sooner or later, whether or not anyone gets what they need.