This story is set in the aftermath of Final Fantasy VII. Advent Children and the events that took place during never happened. This did. I welcome you, dear reader, to Precious Metals.
'The world was so different when we were young. Back then, you could get by with scraped knees.. Right?'
Cloud quickly sat upright in bed, panting heavily, a cold sweat pouring from his brow as he stared into the darkness. The quiet words rang louder and louder in his head, an echo. Lights from outside seemed to swirl on the metal of his ceiling, making his head swim. The walls began to sweat and sway, the room itself breathing in time with him. Unable to stand it any longer, he put his feet on the threadbare rug and lurched upright, staggering to his open bathroom door. In a sweep of nausea, he gagged into the sink in a horrid dry heave.
When it finally passed, he scooped cold water from the tap, alternately drinking and splashing his face. As sick as he was, he still flinched when spare droplets of the icy cold liquid splashed his bare chest. He slowed his breathing by force of will alone, bracing himself on either side of the sink until he was entirely calm, listening to the pulse of the water flowing and the clink of the old plumbing. He couldn't understand at first. It had been months since his last attack.
He turned the water off and looked into the mirror, ignoring the crack he'd left there some months ago. A normal, well maintained military face should have greeted him, but times had changed. Without the constant rushing around and daily activities, he'd neglected himself a bit. His hair had grown long, and his face had a scraggly beard coming in. Scraped knees, huh? He smirked, making the messy stranger in the mirror grin. Scraped knees had nothing on mako poisoning.
Cloud opened the medicine cabinet, looking through the scant bottles until he found a small amber dropper bottle on the bottom shelf. He lifted it to eye level, grimacing, swirling its dark liquid contents by tilting the bottle back and forth.
"Why is it that anything good for you tastes so bad? Maybe so medicine is a punishment and you appreciate health more?" Shrugging, he finally left the bathroom and headed towards his kitchen. It was nothing special, just a storage place for bachelor chow and an old dining set he'd found out back. After such a rude awakening, the thought of finding a new chair crossed his mind again, forceful in it's ideal. Cold folding chair metal on an overheated, ill body is a terrible surprise.
He set the bottle gently on the scarred surface of the table, the hand staying still as he looked at it, lost in thought. He never thought about it too much, how ill he was. The only hint he'd ever been treated for mako poisoning in the past was an I.V. wound upon waking up in the ruins of Mideel, and a crew of friends telling him how happy they were that he'd recovered. When he noticed his hand was shaking again in a threat of relapse, he rummaged through the cabinets for food. A few handfuls of dry cereal and a chug of water prepared his system for the two drops of liquid under his tongue.
"God.. When did I even eat last? Did I even enjoy it?" He looked at the sink and the few dishes in it, not able to tell what had been on them. His diet had taken a hit too, that's for sure. No Tifa to remind him to feed himself, or offer samples of what she was trying out if he refused. Absently, he looked down at himself in the chair, noticing that while he still had the muscle tone he'd developed over the years, any excess body fat had disappeared to the point of ribs showing up just above his stomach. He looked like a stray slum cat.
He'd been hit hard after the Sephiroth incident from the past, the many doses of mako, Hojo, and his little swim in the life stream catching up with his already tiring body. The closest thing to a cure the doctors could offer him was a dark blue liquid that worked on the excess mako eating away his body from the inside like cancer. Maybe it was the medicine making him lose the weight? Maybe the memory lapses were its fault too.
He hadn't had to take it recently, this foul tasting medicine. The attacks always seemed to come after a nightmare. Always after he saw a silver haired figure rising above the flames of his own Hell. Always after he saw an innocent slip beneath the waters of eternity. Sephiroth. The nightmare never ended for him, not even when he saw the body finally fall. He kept catching echoes, remnants of the past. A chuckle, a gesture. Those eyes staring out at him from dark corners, so much like his own.
A sudden, loud ringing noise snapped him out of his reverie. On the countertop his cell phone was ringing, flashing a white light on its call screen. Since he began running packages for the businesses in the district, he'd taken the habit of carrying a phone around. Taking these odd jobs gave him just enough gill for the necessities. A glance at the screen offered an unknown number. Against better original thoughts, he answered it.
"Cloud? It's me, Tifa."
The voice was familiar, comforting. Safe. For a split second, he thought he was back in his bed waking up to that horrible nausea. He saw hands reaching for his bare ankles, and shifted his weight to his other foot, looking at the ceiling as he spoke. The voice was familiar, ringing. Comforting. He worried for a moment that he'd forgotten how to talk.
"Tifa? Is that really you?" He caught himself shaking, resisting the urge to hang up the phone and pretend it never happened. He'd grown used to this lone life.
"Yeah, it's me. I know it'll be hard to ask, but can I beg a favor? Drop by the new bar. It's in Sector 3, big blue neon sign. You can't miss it. Got that?"
"A favor? What do you ne-"
"I'll see you soon, okay? Thanks again!"
"Tifa, hang on a second, I don't think I ca-… Damnit, she hung up already." He glowered at the phone, setting it back on the counter and rubbing his head. Then his face. Cloud looked once more down at the phone as if it had personally wronged him, then turned and headed to the bathroom. Stupid reality, making him care about trivial things like appearances again.
A half hour later, he was dressed and on his bike, headed to Sector 3. The beard was gone, as was most of the hair. He would never be rid of his natural bed head, though after so long, he couldn't part with the tail of hair in the back. The medicine had finally gotten rid of the shaking and nausea, so there shouldn't be anything to worry about aside from the awkwardness associated with a long time apart. It had been nearly three years since he last saw everyone. More appropriately, it was three years since he walked away.
The jaunt from Sector 6 to Sector 3 didn't take very long if you knew how to avoid the traffic. Took even less time if you leaned your entire body into the curves, to the point of smelling the heat of the concrete beneath you. He cut traffic without a second thought, so efficiently that the other motorists didn't even seem to mind. What he wouldn't give to get more deliveries out of town. Car exhaust tended to put a damper on an otherwise pleasant ride.
In short order he'd pulled in front of the only visible blue neon sign. He didn't bother to read it, knowing it was probably just another place on words. Seventh Heaven always had a certain ring to it. She lived her life in sevens. Seven ultimate martial arts moves from her master, seven days in a coma on two separate occasions. She'd lived in Sector 7 for a time. Seven was truly a constant in her life. She'd probably die at one hundred and seven, just for show.
He never bothered to wear a helmet these days, so all that needed doing was the key into his pocket. They clanked against themselves, and themselves only. He'd forgotten his medicine at home. The loss shouldn't mar this awkward moment, he decided as he climbed the stairs. He grabbed the handle, and made himself wipe his face clear as he stepped inside.
The bar had changed with time and location, but the smell was the same. Tifa must still be the only cook and bar tender for it to smell like that. Sautéed onions, the Final Heaven Cocktail, and something warm. The closest smell to home since his youth. Life just kept getting better though, when he caught sight of the figure behind the bar.
Long brown hair held back with a red ribbon, stray locks framing a pale face. A dark red tank top, bravely performing its duty against gravity as she stooped over for something. Blue jeans were held up by a black belt and a cell phone clip. His boot tread on a warped floor board as he stared, making a squeak loud enough to catch her attention. Cloud felt unprepared for those warm brown eyes that turned to look at him.
"Cloud…?" Tifa wandered around the edge of the bar, and closer still. She truly seemed like she stepped straight from his memories. A large smile spread across her face. "It is you! I'm glad you made it. Saved me a lot of trouble looking. Where did you come in from, anyway? All I was able to find before was your number. I'm sorry if it was a long way."
"Uh..?"
"…Where are you living now, I mean. None of us have even seen you around." She tugged his new found ponytail when he didn't answer right away, grinning. "Ah, a drawstring. Maybe now I can make you talk. Just tug to turn it on, right?"
He frowned a bit, but let her tug it gently, trying his best to keep the professional look on his face. It was all of the old self he truly had left. "I'm living over in Sector 6, actually. I've got an apartment upstairs of a building, and I run deliveries for the business below and a few of his associates. Earns me enough gill for rent and the necessities, so I can't complain."
She finally let go of his hair, standing in front of him with her arms behind her back. As usual, she knew how to get his rapt attention.
"Well, either way, you're here. I can ask that favor now, right?"
He nodded, allowing himself a smile now. "Why else would I have shown up? What do you need done?"
"I need an escort. A bodyguard, if you will."
He cringed for a moment, his head swimming worse than that morning. The lights over the bar clouded his vision, the floor becoming like water, sucking him down. Tifa frowned as he visibly paled, picking up his hand and leading him toward an empty bar stool. She went and got a glass of water, fitting it into his shaking hand. Automatically, he drained it.
"Cloud… are you okay? You really don't look so good. Are you sick? Have you been taking care of yourself?"
He remembered the medicine, how it was sitting on his table back home, cursing that he didn't think to bring it with him. Since Tifa was watching, he managed a nod, wiping his mouth with the back of one gloved hand before bracing his forehead on his palm.
"It's nothing, I'm fine now. You said you needed a.. an escort, right? Where to?"
She still watched him, not quite believing his words.
"Actually, I need to get out of Midgar for a while. Things have been getting kind of strange around here lately. Marlene and Barret already moved out months ago. Tensions in town are raising, and more than anything I-I guess.." She looked down at this point. "I want to travel with you again. After all those things that happened, you just walked off without a word! Then everyone else went their separate ways and started to live again. You were the only one that was a big question mark. Nobody knew where you went, and now.."
She made a noise but turned away, busying herself by pouring a drink that didn't need to be poured. Three fingers of whisky was left standing in a shot glass on the backboard of the bar.
"I'm just saying, take me with you. Take me out of Midgar. Take me wherever you go on the job. I never want to be apart from you! Don't tell me to go, don't walk away again. Because now I'm brave enough to follow you." She put her hands on her chest and turned around to face him again. "If you leave, I'll leave too. I'll go wherever you go! I love you, Cloud!"
He looked up to see her, surprised not only by her tone of voice but the words she spoke so suddenly. Yet something was wrong, and not just with how boldly she'd spoken. Her eyes and face didn't match. Her face was the same Tifa, the same loving face who stuck with him through the entire hell they'd gone through. The eyes. They belonged to a girl who now lived beneath the waves, someone who was a part of the planet.
The bar had melted away beneath him, disappeared beneath that silvery surface of his memory. The lights were gone, the glasses, even the noises from the traffic outside. Only he and Tifa stood in this hazy darkness that even now began swirling like a rainstorm.
"Something's wrong. Tifa, what the hell's going on?" He looked around as he was forced to stand upright, lowering his stance, wishing he still carried a weapon at all times. She didn't answer, though she finally opened her arms and held them out to him in offering, an angel welcoming him home.
"Cloud.. Come here. It's okay. Everything's fine now that you came back to me. We can finally be together. Isn't that what you wanted..? I saw it. When we were in the life stream.."
"You're not acting like yourself, Tifa. Come on, snap out of it!"
"Cloud.. Join with me. We were one in the life stream. Now we can be one again.."
She lurched forward as if to grab him, the world distorting to make her grab abnormally fast and accurate. The wavy world around them was condensing, choking him, pulling him down again. Her fingers closed around his neck, thumbs finding the air passage and clutching as tightly as her grip allowed. His arms grew heavy, unable to fight her and this world off. Everything was going black. With a final burst of effort he croaked her name.
Cloud was dimly aware that there was water running somewhere. Rushing. He heard the clank of the old pipes below working, the sound of people in the street, in the store below his apartment. He heard his own heart thumping in his chest. His hands raced to this throat, clutching it, feeling where a loved ones fingers had once threatened to crush his windpipe. Nothing was tender.
He slowly got up onto his knees, stabilizing himself with the edge of the tub until he could stand and turn off the sink. His teeth chattered with cold both real and imagined. A hand snaked into the cabinet and retrieved an amber bottle of blue, foul smelling liquid. In a moment, he'd removed the cap and placed two drops beneath his tongue, forcing down the vomit that rose to the back of his throat when it went down. He'd need to eat something soon, or he'd be sick as seven dogs. He looked into the mirror as he had earlier. How much earlier? He couldn't hazard a guess. Or had he even looked before?
He still needed a shave and a haircut. Nothing had been changed. Cloud paused as he looked into the mirror, slowly raising his hand toward the side of his head. Something was standing out amongst the gold of his own hair, shimmering. He grabbed the rogue object and gave it a tug. Painfully, it came loose and hung limp and wispy in his grasp. Grey wouldn't have surprised him, between the mako and the stress of his life hanging on his back. But this wasn't grey. A single silver hair hung between his thumb and forefinger, glinting in the yellow buzzing light of his bathroom.
Shuddering, he dropped the hair and wandered into the kitchen, digging in the cabinets for something to eat before the medicine did any major damage. He had to settle on dry cereal and a few chugs of water before heading to the bathroom for a shower. Dazed, he performed the same duties as he had that morning. Or not. Beard removed and the hair trimmed, save for a ponytail. He smiled faintly, remembering how he had it styled the same way as a kid. He'd cut it when he ran off to try joining Soldier.
Cloud knew the best thing to do was go down to his bike, check the fluids, and go run some spare deliveries before the weekend. He'd be hitting the bottom of his cereal box by that night otherwise. He stared at his cell phone, daring it to ring, wishing it to ring so he could label all of his hallucinations something more glamorous, like premonitions.
While he waited for a hopeful fate, he got dressed in his now usual casuals. A pair of black jeans, boots heavy enough to keep him balanced normally, sleeveless black shirt and a long trench coat that doubled as a wind guard on the bike. Nothing amazing or trendy, but it kept him from both harm and notice, so it wasn't hurting.
When it failed to ring in twenty minutes, he put it in his pocket. After second thoughts, he also put the bottle of medicine in before pulling on his boots and gloves. Fluids checked, everything in working order, he was about to go and see if the manager of the building had any deliveries ready. Then stopped. He got onto the bike and tore out, heading to Sector 3. If Tifa was still in Midgar and had a bar in that sector, then maybe he wasn't going mad. Maybe. Maybe.
He parked in front of a good-sized building with a neon blue sign. Tifa's Final Heaven. Catchy title, when he stopped to think about it. So very like her. Not even bothering to steel himself for the tough guy visage, he walked inside.
In jeans and a red tank top stood Tifa behind the bar, mixing a drink and taking notes as she did. When she poured the electric blue concoction from the shaker into the glass, she added something on top and stirred before jotting down more notes and sipping. Inventing new drinks was so tedious.
After enjoying the scent he'd hoped he would get right, something clicked inside him. Why live through déjà vu forever? He'd had enough of being a puppet for a lifetime. This time he would hold the strings. He didn't wait to be noticed. He walked to the bar, sat down, and tapped the slick top with his knuckles twice.
"I need something to warm me up. Four fingers, please."
"Mn, four fingers coming up." She fluidly grabbed a shot glass and filled it to the brim with an amber liquid, turning to set it in front of him. "That'll be 5 gill."
"What, no childhood friend discounts? You're breaking my heart."
"I don't give out discou-… Cloud? CLOUD? Is that you?" She paled a bit, staring at his face before breaking out in a grin, hopping the bar easily and sitting ontop of it. "How did you find me?! We all looked everywhere for you! I mean you just walk off without telling anyone anything, and now you just.. I mean, I.. you.."
All looks of glee suddenly left her, anger welling up like a serpents hiss. She leaned forward into his face when he tried to take a sip of his drink, nearly making him spill it on his lap.
"Where have you been all this time?! I've been worried sick, you big jerk! Why didn't you come back? Why did you even leave? I've been running this ship alone since Barret and Marlene moved a few months back. All these years and you don't drop in once? I thought you were dead!"
He managed to lean forward a bit and drain the glass, setting it down. Might as well be a bit buzzed before talking about those things.
"I left because I had to. I didn't know if you'd understand or not. Even though we fixed everything as well as we could, and did a lot of good for everyone and every thing.. I thought everyone would be better off without me there, reminding them of everything they'd just gone past. It was partly my fault anyway. I didn't want to risk hurting anyone. Especially you." Buzzed or not, those last words surprised him. Was it the medicine reacting with the alcohol?
Her face colored, and then went redder as she grew angry again. "Hurt me? You hurt me worse! You abandoned me! I thought that.. Well.. You didn't care any more. Not even a word, just up and gone. Even if you didn't view me as any more than an old friend, or any of us for that matter, that was still a shitty thing to do to us. We already forgave you, and we never could have done all those things without you at the center!"
He cringed down in his stool, setting his elbows on the bar, his chin in his hands. Tifa's temper was something not to be trifled with. Best to just let this blow over. He didn't even really know why he left anymore. Something called to him in his heart, and told him to keep moving. Maybe it was the wind.
She finally calmed, looking up at the ceiling. "Hey, Cloud. Can I ask you a favor?"
Cloud looked sideways at her face, pausing for a moment. "Yes.. Why?"
"I'd like to hire you as an escort. A bodyguard, if you will."
His blood ran cold. Without a second thought, he reached into his pocket for his medicine, and placed two more drops under his tongue. Preventative measures for the walls that might start bleeding. Instead of gagging this time, he coughed until he saw stars, shaking his head when it was all over to clear it. Remembering where he was, he looked to Tifa and smiled to reassure her.
"It's just after effects of all that stuff from before. I'm fine. But you said you needed my help?"
The look of worry didn't leave her face, but Tifa spoke. "Yes.. I need to get out of Midgar for a while. Things are.. strange here now. I can't tell if the town has changed or just me. I can't stand sitting around any more. It doesn't feel like home. I'm just… kind of lost without everyone here around me. You know. Like the good old days."
The room spun a little as the mako pulsed in his blood, thinning, but he fought it back. "Okay. Where do you want to go?" Keep it short and simple. Less words, less chance to mess it up with talking.
She smiled earnestly. "Take me away, Cloud. Anywhere. Maybe I should go back to Nibelheim, or one of the places we went to on our travels. Maybe see if that deed in Costa del Sol is still good or not. Or maybe.. I should just stay with you."
"…Excuse me? I'm sorry, I caught all of that up till 'Costa del Sol'."
She glowered at him. "I said, maybe I should just do what you did and make nothing my business. Geeze, at least pay attention! Here I am all excited that you show up out of the blue, and you're still being the same old jerk."
'I may as well take the upper hand of this. If it's just another hallucination, at least I can try being in control.' He stretched his arms above his head, leaning back a bit to pop his upper back. "Okay. You're on. I'll take you with me. We'll hit Kalm first, then anywhere else you want. Hell, we can even find the others if it'll help. If I know them at all, I've got a feeling they'll want to hit the road for a few weeks for old times sake."
Tifa smiled again wholeheartedly, the warm look in her eyes making his heart skip. "Oh, that's great! When can we leave? I hope soon. I don't know how much longer I can handle being cooped up all the time. Well, now that you're here it won't be so bad, but you know what I mean. Right? I can give everyone a call and we can meet them at thei-.. Hey, what's that?"
"Mmn?" He turned his head to look at her, caught off guard. The drink was still reacting with his medicine, making him alternately relaxed and tense.
The back of his head stung for a moment as she plucked a hair, holding it out to him. "Cloud, I think you're going grey or something without me. Wait.. No, this isn't grey. This is silver. Huh. Weird!" She smiled though, dropping the hair, moving to stand behind him. To his surprise, she nuzzled the side of his head gently. "I guess you're precious in more ways than one. Gold and silver on one person. I'm pretty lucky, huh."
Cloud began looking around this way and that, sure that the world would dissolve again. When it didn't, he had to accept that what had just happened was real, and not a hallucination at all. To his surprise, he blushed. So much for a cold exterior.
"E-either way. You want an escort. I'm an escort. My bike's parked outside. If you want to go now, we can. With all the roads they've put in, it's easy to get from place to place now. We can probably hit Kalm before nightfall."
"Why not. I've got no customers right now, the shipments are all in.. Go ahead and warm up your bike, I'll be out in a minute. I just need to lock up."
They couldn't talk over the constant roar of air and engine, but there was a certain exchange as they rode towards Kalm. Each corner made Tifa grip a little tighter onto his waist, each chilly straightaway made her move closer to his back. The thoughts of his medicine, the strange silver hairs, the loss of memory and time lately left his mind. For a brief, shining, adolescent moment as they tore down the highway, Cloud was truly happy he owned a motorcycle and not a truck.
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