the end of the world again, PGish, around the middle of Dirge of Cerberus - which I have not played, just seen all the FMVs, which is why this remains a one-shot because I don't want to screw up the DoC 'canon' even further. Centers around DoC!Tifa. (I actually don't really write her all that differently from AC!Tifa.) Warning for potentially OOC Cloud, Tifa and Barret. And no plot. And lots of Tifa worrying. And Cloud being too complacent. And beware the DoC plotholes that may potentially arise. Oh, yeah, and don't forget the bad grammar and a complete and total disregard of punctuation.
Bear with me. First VII fic I managed the courage to post.
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the end of the world again
A sense of vague internal distaste at the bloodied battle scene of earlier, and a slow burn in her throat; Tifa Lockhart (popular barmaid of Edge's Seventh Heaven, full-time adopted mother of two, secretly ex-notorious eco-terrorist) dismissed the prickle in her guts as simple nausea and quelled it. Swiftly herding Denzel and Marlene into the (thankfully) unscathed Sector Six church, Tifa drew breath and slammed the door behind her.
She stood there for a while after locking it, her hand resting on the doors; listening, ear nearly pressed to its familiar oaken surface, for any sign of battle. Behind her the children watched the doors with anxious eyes, unease apparent in their stance.
Neither Denzel nor Marlene had spoken as they hurried to their sanctuary. Tifa hated the look in the children's eyes: wide and staring and scared of something they should never have had to fear, and she with her heart in her mouth thinking not now, not now, it's too soon for them, they're too young for any part of this –
A small, truthful voice in her head said firmly: no, they're not fragile lambs any more. Not after what they've seen. Denzel's been through the post-Meteor events, and he survived the Geostigma. Marlene watched Meteor fall, lived through Kadaj's attempt at the Second Reunion. They're stronger than they seem.
"Tifa?" queried Marlene, in girlish, high-pitched concern. Tifa turned from her place at the double doors. Marlene's large brown eyes stared worriedly at her; while Denzel stood a little distance away, seemingly wholly settled into his new environment, but there was clear disquiet in his eyes, and a certain coiled tension to slender nine-year-old muscles, and Tifa knew he wanted to fight and would dash right out if they let him.
A desire which she was, of course, violently opposed to.
Somehow she wrenched a reassuring smile out of her mire of internal negativity (Cloud and Barret were highly capable fighters; of course they'd be fine, she told herself sternly), and gently pushed Marlene towards the flower bed. Marlene stared at the waxy yellow petals in contemplation and then turned back to Tifa, eyes slightly narrowed with worry. Perhaps she sensed the strain in Tifa's (is it too cheesy, Tifa wondered) grin; Marlene had always been a very intuitive child.
She nodded; encouraging Marlene on, but Marlene Wallace didn't stir from her position. Tifa sighed and smiled, albeit half-heartedly. She could offer just a little cheer to the child in this troubled time, something to counterbalance the thousand cruel scenarios dancing through her own mind, harshly vivid mental imagery fuelled by her old insecurities.
Tifa's mind was set; she had to do this. The least she could do was maintain her optimism for them, keep up a cover for Denzel and Marlene. Struggles be damned; she wouldn't let this hurt them all. She would keep things normal for the family. Her family.
Not an easy task when they were literally in the middle of a war zone and Tifa's mind was whirling with endless dark possibilities as to how Cloud and Barret were currently faring. Of course everything would be fine in the end, she told herself. They'll be OK. They fight so hard on the battlefield; surely I can be strong enough and fight for Denzel and Marlene.
But then, Tifa's pessimistic side argued, what about the children themselves? They haven't seen open bloodshed, open war. Not like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this; and they were so young, too… She swallowed the lump in her throat; even she had not seen such brutality as the soldiers had exhibited in their violent, aggressive attack on the city of Edge. One of them had actually eaten a man's throat, for heaven's sake. And the others were just shooting, indiscriminate and sadistic. Tifa shivered a little thinking of what new horrors the soldier unit was inflicting upon Edge, even now. Maybe once she would have gone out to fight them, with Barret and Cloud still back in the fray at the outer city, but now she had children to think of.
Privately, quietly, she was still scared for them all, not just the children and their innocence.
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An hour later, Tifa had managed to think more rationally and assuage her worries somewhat, concluding that worrying certainly wasn't going to do Cloud and the others the tiniest bit of help. She had calmed slightly, but not quite completely.
Denzel had since settled into a pew, lying on his back and staring at the skies in an almost wistful manner, through the hole in the ceiling Cloud had crashed through so long ago. Marlene knelt by the flowers, wondering what magic of the deceased flower lady's kept the blooms alive and resilient through so many disasters and people getting kicked around. Tifa sat beside Denzel, hand resting absently on his shoulder. Watching and waiting, always.
A creak of the doors; Tifa's head jerked up, and Denzel sat up sharply and spun around. Marlene was already up and running towards Cloud and Barret, both of whom looked tired, a little bloodied, but otherwise wholly intact. Relief spread through Tifa; warmth that started slow and uncertain and spread fast, almost as if someone had cracked an egg over the top of her head.
She got up and headed towards the two males. Marlene already clung to her father, and Cloud patted Denzel on the head. Something of hero-worship still stayed with Denzel; Cloud had the sword, the clothes, the transport and the hair (growing out, Tifa noticed) of a hero, and Denzel saw no reason not to respect that. But in a way, Cloud was his surrogate father, too.
"You're back," Tifa said gently, and there was a silent I knew you would following the simple declaration. Barret managed a broad grin that grew in strength as he swung Marlene to his shoulders, and Cloud half-smiled quietly. The five of them took a seat in the pew Tifa and Denzel had previously vacated.
Cloud leaned back with a slightly exhausted sigh and stared upwards in a manner that was (charmingly, thought Tifa) reminiscent of Denzel. Ex-SOLDIER or no, all that fighting could really take it out of a guy, even with his recent upbeat sort of optimism that enabled him to think I defeated Sephiroth twice so I can do anything. Even if he still couldn't remember the names of half the groceries Tifa had to pick up at the stores, it was a fine start, slow though it might be. She grinned slightly at the thought, and shooed the now-happy children to the flower bed; Marlene insisted on dragging a reluctant Denzel away to play tag, though Tifa had warned them not to leave the church – a warning both children had solemnly sworn they would heed.
"So," she ventured lightly, once Denzel and Marlene were safely out of earshot, "what's all this been about?"
"Hnh?" Cloud blinked, sitting up with a mild start. "Oh, you mean the soldiers. They're a special unit called Deep Ground – "
"How'd you find their name?" she interrupted, somehow doubting they had told willingly – or that Cloud had looked at a name tag.
Barret snorted, arms crossed. "Spike over there rang up the WRO."
Cloud nodded. "Reeve – and Vincent - seem to be involved in this mess somehow." He shrugged, and his soft blond spikes quivered slightly. "I'm not too worried, they can take care of themselves. It's the Deep Ground lot I'm worried about – apparently they're the ones who carried out the attacks on Wutai."
Tifa stared. "Wutai? But then Yuffie – "
"Yuffie's with Vincent right now. I could hear her screaming at Cid over the phone."
Tifa thought. Aside from them, that left only one more to be accounted for. "What about Nanaki?"
"Red's fine," said Barret confidently. "Cosmo Canyon ain't been attacked jus' yet."
"How do you know?"
"Newspapers."
"I see." Tifa propped her elbow on her knee and rested her chin in her hand. "I wonder what this Deep Ground lot is up to?" she said mildly.
"Hm. Other than leaving a trail of death and destruction wherever they go?" Cloud answered, equally lightly, but Tifa knew better than to take that lightness seriously. This was human life they were discussing, after all. "I don't know. The connection got cut before Reeve could tell me anything else, and we can't fix up a new one because there's no more reception in their area – and my phone battery is flat," he added, a tad sheepishly. "So I don't think Reeve knows anything about where we are, or what we're doing, other than that we're on the way to the WRO for refuge. But it can't be anything worse than what we've been through before," he added, with a good deal of fresh, sudden bravado which was a little surprising, given how it was never confirmed that any war they went into would be won by their side. But confidence, Tifa decided, was good.
Even Barret had to smile at that kind of confidence, coming from a man who just a year ago had somehow wandered far off the beaten track and sunk into a dark, Geostigma-ridden despair from which it seemed he would never recover. Now he was all logistics. Typical delivery boy.
Evidently the recent events had awoken something of a hidden strategist in Cloud, a SOLDIER-like quality possibly due to Zack. "The attacks look like they're mostly hit, round up, leave," he said, suddenly businesslike. "The Deep Ground Soldiers never attack the same place twice, notably. They've run through Wutai, Junon, Kalm, just about everywhere on the Planet – but their base of operations is the Midgar ruins mostly. That's where they look like they're regrouping, and that," Cloud paused, staring at them meaningfully, "is exactly where Vincent and the others are headed."
Tifa sat up straighter in alarm. "But doesn't that mean- " She left her sentence hanging, unfinished and fell silent.
"Yes," confirmed Cloud.
"Hey, Spike, slow down," growled Barret, at the same time Tifa said thoughtfully, "We'll have to leave the kids at Elmyra's."
Cloud winced a little. "Yes. What I think is that the WRO – with Vincent, Cid and Yuffie - plans to engage Deep Ground in a full-scale battle to wipe them out. Permanently." He stood up and stretched. "In short," he said briskly, "we're going to war."
At least we know what to do now, thought Tifa wearily. Wonderful.
"Well, then," she said jokingly, attempting to lighten the mood a little, "shall we … how did you say it … mosey?"
Cloud grinned. It wasn't a nice grin, and promised a nasty something for any opposing Deep Ground Soldiers who dared embroil him in combat. "You bet."
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Not the best of fanfic. Entirely plotless and pointless and things. I think my writing style's still a bit too raw ...
P.S. Flamers make me mean. :D