Tifa slid her finger down the clipboard, counting up the number of packages delivered that day, smiling. It had been a busy week.
Cloud stepped into the office, towel wrapped around his waist, and fingers ruffling his wet hair.
"How we doin'?"
"Ahead of schedule. You made good time today."
An arrogant grin settled on his face. Tifa laughed at the smirk, setting down the clipboard. She didn't get to see him smile much anymore. Not genuinely, anyway. But every now and then they slipped in, little flashes of his old self falling between the cracks. It was why she liked the busy weeks. They were always rushed and tiresome, but it was nice to have a challenge within reach. And Cloud always seemed a little brighter during them.
"Don't get too cocky," she said, punching him playfully on the shoulder, "you've still got twenty-eight deliveries to make in the next few days."
Cloud sighed, shaking his head at the criticism and walking into the bedroom as she chuckled behind him. He pulled on a pair of shorts and slumped down onto the bed, the day's work finally catching up to him. As he turned to straighten the covers, the flash of yellow he was used to seeing in the mirror caught him off guard. Something was different. He reluctantly got back up and walked over to the glass beside the closet, shuffling the hair on the side of his head to get a better view.
Streaking back from behind his ear were lines of grey, pulling out from the hairline and breaking up the color around his ear.
"Everything okay, Cloud?" Tifa stood in the doorway, shrugging off her vest.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, dropping the hair and stepping away from the mirror.
She raised an eyebrow at his shrug, darting forward and scooping up the side of his hair before he could step away.
"Aw, is my poor little chocobo turning grey already?" she teased, letting the hair fall as Cloud batted her hand away.
"I thought I wasn't going to have to worry about this yet. I'm not even thirty!" his wet spikes fell as Cloud drooped his head, causing Tifa to laugh as she wrapped him in a hug.
"Come on, don't worry about it so much. I'm sure grey chocobos are just as adorable as the others."
Cloud glared at her teasing, before finally rolling his eyes and accepting the hug.
"Five years after finally getting rid of that bastard, and now he starts giving me grey—"
"Stop it, Cloud." Tifa pulled him away and held him by the shoulders, staring into very confused mako-bright eyes.
"Don't bring him back into this. We're doing okay, right? Don't let him ruin it. Not again."
He shrugged her off and went back to sit on the bed, running his hands forcibly over his face a few times before looking back up at her.
"Right. We're okay."
Tifa frowned as she watched him stare into a corner of the room. She could see the fights running back through his muscles, the anger eating away at his memories. He had been struggling for so long, still trying to fight the monster he had already killed.
She kneeled in front of him and rested her hands on his knees. He turned back to her, lips curving into a hollow smile. His eyes were tense, still seeing the flashes of black and silver that tried to destroy him.
"Cloud, we need to get past this. Both of us." She pulled herself up to sit next to him on the bed, fiddling with the ring on her right hand.
"You promised me years ago that you'd come back for me when I needed you. Well, I'm calling in the favor."
Cloud's eyebrows crinkled slightly in confusion.
"I want you to marry me, Cloud." She turned to meet his wide-eyed stare. She couldn't tell if the expression was from shock or pity.
"Tifa, I…"
"You're still in love with Aeris. I know that."
Cloud looked back down into his lap.
"That's not it."
"I know that, too. Cloud, you're all I have left. Don't make me lose you, too. Not again."
All she had left. And he had nothing left to lose.
"You won't. Let's do it."
She smiled softly and kissed him on the cheek, before standing up to continue changing. "I have to head down, I'm running late. Hopefully Marlene opened the bar without me. Get some sleep."
Cloud lay back on the pillows and closed his eyes, not planning to sleep that night. Images from the last seven years ran through his mind. Anger and frustration waded through him like a tide, ebbing slowly as the idea of everyone gathering for a celebration rather than a battle settled into his head. Maybe this was a good idea. Images flipped behind his eyes as exhaustion finally overtook him and he sank into a doze, fatigue drowning any dreams.
... ... ... ... ...
Cloud frowned at his reflection. The steel-colored lines had spread, peppering themselves over his head. It had only been a few days since he noticed the first bands of grey, but they were quickly becoming a dominant shade, highlighting the small wrinkles around his mouth and eyebrows.
He ran his fingers back and forth through his hair, as if vacantly hoping that by some miracle the ash coloring would simply fall off and reveal the yellow beneath. When it did not, he sighed roughly and walked out into the kitchen to start a pot of tea. He had fulfilled all the orders for the week, and the office was closed Saturdays. They wouldn't receive any more orders until that night, which would give Tifa a chance to sleep in.
The pot whistled and Cloud grabbed the small brown bag Tifa had set by the stove, dumping half a handful of leaves into the water. They didn't hear from Cid often, but every now and then they handled special deliveries for him. He didn't trust anyone handling parts for Shera, but when it went through Strife Deliveries, he at least knew who to wreck if anything was damaged. As his form of thanks, he sent back a bag of "real goddamn tea," since apparently nothing in the city was strong enough.
"Smells good in here."
Cloud turned to see Tifa walking into the kitchen, tugging her unruly hair back into a low, messy ponytail.
"You're supposed to be sleeping in today."
She shrugged, opening the cabinet over the stove and pulling out two mugs.
"Habits don't die that quickly. Besides, I want to have enough time to enjoy my day off."
She chuckled and gently pushed Cloud out of the way, taking over the teapot. She watched as Cloud walked over and sat at the table, unconsciously tugging at the ends of his hair.
"I hope you're not trying to pull all those grey hairs out," she chuckled.
"Hmph. I need to get it cut."
"I don't know, I kind of like it a little longer." Tifa poured the dark liquid into the cups and placed one of them on the table in front of Cloud, before fluffing his spikes up with the tips of her fingers.
"Don't give me that look," she chuckled at the incredulous expression on his face. "Come on, the change will do you some good. Just grow it out for the wedding, and then if you don't like it we can chop it all off."
Cloud stared at the too-large piece of silver now wrapped around her left ring finger, the metal clicking against the hard mug handle. He had set it beside the bed when he left; he hadn't been sure when he would be coming back.
Tifa reached down and pulled his hand up to rest in hers on the table, a small smile still on her lips.
Cloud brushed his fingers over her right hand, mesmerized by the tan line on her ring finger. She hadn't taken the ring off in quite a while; the skin was lighter, softer. He took both her hands and placed them next to each other on the table, the pale outline on the one matching the beaten metal of the wolf on the other.
"Alright. Just for the wedding."
A brisk kiss landed on his cheek, and Cloud looked up to see Tifa grinning widely, her fingers tightening around his.
... ... ... ... ...
All sound died, a deafening clap ringing around the tile as the back of Cloud's hand met Tifa's cheekbone.
Cloud watched disbelieving as she fell to the floor, caught off guard. Memories clawed at his mind as Tifa hit the ground, the carpet and wallpaper disintegrating into steel and mako as the images in his head found their grip.
He was in the reactor again, trying to reach her, to see if she was still alive. His muscles were lead again, the air dense and suffocating.
Only this time he wasn't saving her. This time he was standing on the stairs, muscles tight. He tried to move, but his limbs refused. He felt an unfamiliar weight in his left hand, and looked down to see the long, thin blade reaching out toward where Tifa lie.
You are just a puppet.
"NO!"
He grasped at his head, trying to pull the images away as they burned deeper. He forced his numb muscles into motion and pulled himself to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He needed to calm down.
"Get out of my head, dammit. I was helping her, saving her. Stay the hell out of my memories!"
He took a deep breath and looked up into the mirror. He froze, anger searing through him, as he saw flames rising behind him and a smirk sitting on the lips of his reflection. The face wasn't his, yet it stared back, twisted satisfaction behind mako-green eyes.
"I will never be a memory." The words cut into every pore, the voice so close he could feel the breath on the back of his neck.
Cloud turned and swiped at the empty air behind him. He turned back toward the mirror only to find the image had changed, and once again showed his dripping face, contorted in rage.
He screamed at the glass and threw his fist forward, a satisfying crunch preceding the sharp pinpoints of pain taking over his hand. He pulled the side of his hand slowly out of the frame as small silver pieces chinkled into the sink below. The sink was spattered in red, along with what remained of his cracked reflection.
"Come into the kitchen."
Tifa stood in the doorway, face hard, as Cloud held his right hand out over the sink. Her right cheek was swollen, and the eye bloodshot, but she had enough expression left to keep Cloud silent. Her eyes flashed down to his hand and back up.
"We don't need that getting infected."
Cloud followed her slowly into the kitchen, refusing to meet her eyes as she sat him down to look at his hand. She rummaged around in her bag for a few seconds, before pulling out two small bottles and a pair of tweezers. She opened the empty bottle and began to pull at the tiny shards of glass still embedded in Cloud's hand, dropping them in the container as she went.
When she finished, she opened the other bottle and dipped a small piece of cloth into the green liquid. She rubbed the potion-coated material over the cuts, tightening her grip on Cloud's wrist as he flinched.
"It's not completely healed, but I only have a limited amount of potions. This will at least close up the wounds. Your body is going to have to do the rest of the work."
Cloud watched as she started to put the supplies away. Her face had softened, but her voice was still cold.
Tifa picked up the papers now scattered on the floor, stacking then neatly and placing them on the table in front of Cloud. She sat motionless, staring at him, ice behind the dark red.
"How could you do this to me?" he asked, gesturing to the paperwork.
She stared.
"Genetic alteration—" he winced as he read, "present. Sixty percent progressive." Tears threatened the edges of his eyes. "You told me the tests came back negative; that there was nothing wrong with me."
"There isn't. You didn't finish reading." She grabbed the papers and began scanning, settling her fingers near the bottom of the second page and turning them back to him. "Read that to me."
"Degradation, negative. Two percent, no evidence of progression."
"And this." Tifa flipped to the third page, a short letter with the watermark of the Mideel Medical Research Institute. Her finger pointed to the third paragraph, skipping over the formalities and protocol.
"After review, it seems that there is no evidence of degradation due to the presence of foreign cells. While some genetic alterations are present due to Mako exposure, these should show no adverse side effects. Normal side effects include changes in taste, altered sleeping patterns, early graying or hair loss, and unusual weight gain or loss. If any of these side effects become severe enough to interfere with normal activity, please contact MMRI immediately to schedule further testing. It was a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Strife—"
"You can stop."
He looked up at her, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but the splotched purple spreading towards her eyebrow.
"There's genetic alteration Tifa, you read it yourself—"
"And no degradation. You're not turning into him, Cloud. You never were. That's why we took this vacation, so that you could have these ridiculous tests done just to prove to you that you're not turning into that—" she stopped, tense fingers crumpling the papers. "No. I'm not going to do this anymore. You want to believe you're an experiment, believe it. But I'm only going to marry the man I believe in, the man I trust. If you're not going to be him, then leave."
... ... ... ... ...
"What the hell you doin' here, boy?" Cid asked, setting down his tea.
Cloud fumbled through his bag and held out a heavily padded parcel.
"Dammit boy, don't drop her!" Cid grabbed the package from Cloud's shaking hands, cradling it in his arms as he walked across the room and placed it in a cabinet.
"Stop slouchin' in the door and sit down."
"No, I just came to—"
"Wasn't askin'. Now sit your ass down."
Cid smacked the back of a chair as he walked into the kitchen. By the time Cloud was seated, the captain had returned with a steaming teapot and a full mug.
"So what the hell's wrong with you, kid?" Cid asked as he refreshed his own cup.
Cloud tensed for a moment, eyes locked on his tea, before grumbling a muffled "I'm fine."
"Horseshit. You look like you got caught in the talons of Joe's prized black turkey at the end of a race, and you're shakin' like a leaf. Hell, you almost dropped a piece of Shera back there! Now I know you didn't haul your ass up here after hours just to drop off that filament. You ain't fine. Now drink you tea and answer my question."
"I'm turning into a monster."
A rolling laugh filled the house as Cid reached for another cigarette from the half-empty pack.
"You've said a lot of stupid shit, boy, but that takes the cup." He blew out a stream of smoke as he continued to chuckle. "Let me get you a new bandage for that hand. What the hell happened there?"
Cloud lifted his hand, red stains spreading across the thick cloth.
"I punched a mirror."
Cid laughed again.
"That may not have been your wisest decision." Cid and Cloud looked over as Vincent stepped into the room. "You've already had seven years of poor fortunes."
Cloud's eyes flicked between Vincent and Cid, trying to rationalize why the two would be in the same house. His eyes settled on the table.
"Are…are you playing poker?"
"What, man's not allowed to play poker in his own damn house?"
"I didn't realize you played poker, Vincent."
"You kiddin'? Vince here's got the best damn poker face I ever seen."
"I've asked you not to call me that." Vincent pulled out the available chair and sat stiffly, pouring himself a cup of tea.
"Eh quit your whinin'. Kid here's goin nuts."
Vincent took a slow sip from his cup before settling his eyes on Cloud.
"Why is your hand injured?"
"I told you, I punched—"
Vincent raised a hand as he finished his sip of tea.
"Tifa is generally very concerned for you, it seems odd that she would not have insisted on healing you."
"We were on vacation. She only had a couple potions, and we just got back. I must have broken the cuts open on the ride here."
"And why exactly did the mirror warrant punching?" A flicker of a grin pricked up the corners of Vincent's mouth before his stoic expression settled on his face again. Cloud wasn't totally sure he had seen it.
Cid chuckled as he blew out another cloud of smoke.
"What, ya didn't like your pretty little reflection remindin' ya of how old you're getting'?" He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up, still chuckling.
"I saw someone else."
"And who would that be?"
Cloud stared at the fragments of leaves floating around in his tea, not quite large enough to sink to the bottom. The silence in the room started to press against him, and he wondered if he had heard the question or made it up in his head.
"Dammit kid," Cid slid his feet off the table, letting them drop with a thud as he downed the rest of his tea in one gulp. "You're you, now get the hell out of my house."
"How the hell do you know?" Cloud snapped, the anger from Mideel seeping back into his mind. Silver spilled over his shoulders, lingering at the corner of his eye. He pulled it back and wrapped a piece of string around it, holding it out of his sight.
"Because you're the only dumbass I know who could be so goddamn stupid that he'd think he was turning into that mutated fuck we already killed. Now either buy in or get out." Cid turned his back on the delivery boy, lit another cigarette and picked up his cards.
"This hand will be over shortly, you're welcome to join."
Cloud left without responding, shutting the door quietly before realizing he had forgotten to tie up his chocobo. The door opened behind him, and Cloud turned to see Cid standing in the doorway, purveying the scene.
"You can borrow Fifi, just get her back by the end of the week."
Cloud stared.
"You named your chocobo Fifi?"
"Get out."
... ... ... ... ...
The church practically glowed. The small chapel had been refurbished, the wood smooth and sturdy. Brightly stained glass hung in staggered mobiles, mixing the air with water-colored light. And flowers. Flowers poured from every crevice, every window, every inch of the walls.
A small crowd of friends stood as Tifa stepped into the room, tears threatening to stain her satin dress. Barret walked over and offered his arm, tucking the other bulky black tux sleeve behind his back.
"Well don't you look downright ridiculous in that getup," he chuckled.
She smiled; only Barret could compliment her with an insult.
"I guess I just like to make an entrance."
"Can we get a move on?!" Cid shouted from the front of the church.
They laughed as Tifa took hold of Barret's arm and stepped toward the alter. Cid stood on the wood behind a small green patch in the center of the church, the wood floor broken, but sanded at the edges. Flowers still grew in the slums, thanks to that small piece of ground. Cloud stood barefoot in his tux, making sure not to step on any of the flowers. His hair was now down to his mid back, the silver tied back with a pale pink ribbon.
As they reached the grass, Barret wrapped Tifa in a quick hug before joining the rest of the audience. Tifa blinked back the tears still filling her eyes and stepped carefully into the soft garden, the ground cool against her feet. As she reached Cloud she paused, looking around at the rag-tag group standing around them.
Vincent stood with Barret on her right, just outside the garden. Vincent had combed his hair and relinquished his cloak for the occasion; his eyes met hers as he gave the slightest bow, the pain behind his face softening for just a moment.
Yuffie and Nanaki stood to her left, the Wutai princess practically bouncing, an enormous smile plastered on her face as she fiddled with the flowers in her hand. Nanaki sat, an elaborate feathered barrette resting behind his ears, and inclined his head toward the couple.
They all stood, looking finer than they had in years, together for a wedding. Cid stepped forward. The officiator was sharp, hair gelled into obedience and tux carefully pressed. Tifa hid a grin as she saw the edge of the cigarette pack sticking up from his jacket pocket. Finally, Tifa turned toward her groom. He stood taller than she had seen in far too long; shoulders back, chest held up, back straight. The only thing drawing his chin to the floor was her, grinning as she looked into his bright eyes.
Tifa's breath caught as she looked into green, cat-slit eyes. The lips of her groom curved up into a cold smirk as Tifa lost all connection to her surroundings, her legs buckling under the weight of that look, the face that had torn her life away.
"Tifa!"
Cloud's voice broke through as she stumbled, his arm catching her around the waist. She blinked and look back at him, concern streaking through his once again blue eyes.
"Are you okay? What happened?" The tension of the room was rising, everyone concerned about the bride.
"I'm fine," she said, regaining her footing. "The grass was just a little wet, I slipped." Cloud pulled her into a tight hug, the worry easing from his limbs. Tifa wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her heart rate involuntarily rising as her fingers wove through the silver hair running down his back.