Author's note- Thanks for reading and thank you even more if you review. I am still desperately seeking a beta please let me know if you are interested!

Chapter 2

Leon pulled his jacket tighter around him against a sudden gust of cold wind. Though it was still only early September, a cold front had moved into Traverse Town bringing with it the promise of a long winter in the months to come. Leon found he didn't mind the cold so much. It was easier to remind himself that he was far from home when the fall and winter set in. Though Radiant Gardens was far from tropical, it was slightly warmer and a bit more humid. In fact, Leon couldn't remember ever wearing a coat so early in the year when he was home. Even if he couldn't see the differences, it was nice to know they were there

When the tip of his cane reached the curb, Leon tilted his head sideways and listened for traffic, but before he could discern if it was safe or not, he heard a voice calling him.

"Hey Leon! Wait up for me!" The voice was soon followed by the graceless, clomping sounds of a young teenager running up to greet him. When she closed the distance, Leon could almost make out a vague shadow of the girl out of his right eye. "You didn't wait for me at the bus stop again," Yuffie whined as she caught her breath.

"I can make it home from work on my own, you know," he admonished her. The gruffness of his tone was belied by the smile on his face.

"I know but I like walking home with you. I mean what would happen if I was attacked by thugs?" she asked as she guided his hand to her arm.

Leon chuckled and shook his head. "You've been studying martial arts since you could walk, and I very much so doubt I would be any help at all in a fight."

"But I know you can look intimidating. Just give them the look you gave to Sora when he asked to borrow your cane to get the ball out of the neighbor's tree," she told him with unabashed honesty.

There was something about the excitable teen that Leon couldn't help but admire. While most people avoided him, Yuffie had thought nothing of inviting herself in to his apartment the first day he'd moved in. It was oddly assuring to him that at least one person didn't side step the obvious. Yuffie never failed to notice that Leon was blind and that his face was a scarred wreck. She also never took a single second to feel sorry for him either.

"Uh-oh," Yuffie said as she came to a dead stop a half block from their building.

"What is it?"

"Aerith's shop is closed early again," she told him as they began walking again.

Aerith Gainsborough lived in the same building that they did and ran the flower shop next door. Leon hadn't dealt with the florist much, but he did know that the young woman had been engaged to a soldier who died in the war. A common enough story these days, but Aerith's fiance had been denied any sort of decoration by the military. As pathetic as his career had been, even Leon had a box full of useless metal and ribbon stashed away. The idea that a "true hero" would come home without a single medal for his valor had stirred up all sorts of rumors in town. Leon supposed that the business might actually be suffering from the talk, but he was almost certain that it was more often than not closed because Aerith spent her time looking for answers. He couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

After saying goodbye to Yuffie and promising to meet her at the bus stop the next day, Leon found himself ensconced inside the never changing walls of his closet sized apartment. He hung his cane and jacket by the door and took measured steps toward his tiny kitchen. The very first thing Leon had done when he'd moved in was memorized the whole apartment. Every single thing inside had a very specific spot and things almost never were rearranged. That kind of organization allowed Leon a type of freedom he didn't have in the outside world. The simple act of making a pot of coffee had become almost cathartic in a way. It reassured him that he was no longer the helpless kid who had entered rehab four years ago.

Later that night, Leon found himself lying awake in his bed. It wasn't anything unusual, just annoying. He rolled from one side to the other and back again numerous times before deciding to let the sound of the television lull him to sleep. Grabbing the remote from the nightstand, he turned the device on without bothering to notice what channel it was on. Leon hadn't watched much television in the past and now he only used it to fill the silent void in his apartment. After he listened for almost an hour as a documentary narrator droned on about the mating habits of yaks, Leon gave up on sleep for a while.

Leon threw on a pair of jeans and grabbed his jacket on the way out the door. Without even unfurling his cane, he found his way to the front steps of his apartment building. The night air was perfect for a stroll, but Leon instead took a seat on the steps and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Despite the health risks, a late night smoke was still one of Leon's favorite things. It was nice to just sit and listen. In the distance, he could hear the echoing howl of a siren moving through the streets between tall buildings. It must be near the industrial district, he decided as the sound turned to the east. Every so often, Leon would hear a car rolling by. This part of Traverse Town didn't see too much action at night. Just as he finished his cigarette, Leon heard the distinct click of high heels on cement. He wondered wryly if a hooker had gotten lost on her way back from the red light district.

"She'd probably charge me double," he murmured to himself as stood.

The woman must not have noticed him before he moved, because she gave a startled yelp. "Leon, you scared me!" she cried before letting out a long sigh.

"Aerith?" he asked barely recognizing her voice.

"Yes, it's just me," she confirmed softly with a touch of rawness to her usual smooth contralto. "I didn't expect anyone would be out here so late."

"Just came out for a smoke. Late night?"

"I...I just stopped out to see someone. I'm afraid things didn't go very well, though," Aerith admitted. He couldn't be sure, but it almost sounded like she was crying.

Leon should have just said good night and left it at that. Crying women made him feel like he was about to crawl out of his skin. On top of that, he noticed that as she drew nearer to him, Aerith's usual floral scent was masked by the odor of stale smoke and a bit of beer. Wonderful, he thought, drunk and weeping. He couldn't be sure why, but instead of following his instincts, he suggested, "how about a cup of coffee?"

As Leon held open the door for Aerith, it occurred to him that aside from Yuffie and his landlord, that in his entire time living here he hadn't had a single visitor. The thought made him realize that perhaps he was even more solitary than he had intended to be. Perhaps inviting Aerith in wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"Have a seat on the couch, and I'll make us something. Do you like coffee or tea?"

"Tea," Aerith replied, "though maybe coffee would be better."

"Coffee it is then," Leon said as he began making a pot.

He listened as Aerith settled herself on the ancient, creaking sofa. An awkward silence was setting in, but he wasn't quite sure how to fix that. It had been a long time since Leon had made small talk with anyone. When Yuffie came over, she didn't shut up long enough for him to need to fill any voice. To be honest, even before the war, Leon had never been much of a socialite. Luckily, Aerith filled silence for him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he answered.

"I know you don't like to talk about the war, but if someone really needed answers, would you?" she asked shakily.

"I guess so," he agreed warily.

"It's just that it seems the only person who really knows exactly what happened that day refuses to talk to me." Aerith took a deep breath, and Leon could tell the real tears were about to start. "I just don't understand. Zack used to write me letters about how Cloud was his best friend. How can Cloud just sit back and let the military deny that Zack's death even meant anything at all?"

"I'm sure if Cloud did care about Zack that it must be very painful for him," Leon told her vaguely. He found his way to the unoccupied half of the couch managing not to touch Aerith. He drew the line at actually letting her cry on his shoulder.

"But maybe if he'd just talk about it he could find some kind of closure," she sobbed.

Closure. Now there was a word that Leon had heard pretty regularly since his injury. As if putting something in words actually could ease the never ending sense of guilt and shame. He didn't believe in closure. The monsters lurking in the back of his head didn't go away just because he talked about them. Leon had a hunch that this Cloud person might just agree.

Leon sighed. "Aerith, please believe me when I tell you that you can't force someone to reopen wounds for you."

"I can't just let it go. Zack deserves better."

Just as Leon opened his mouth to reply, he heard the telltale hiss coming from his coffeepot. He made a cup with extra sugar for Aerith and left his black. As he handed the mug to Aerith, he could practically feel the weight of her stare. He ignored it and instead focused on the strong tasting brew before him. "Sorry if it's a bit strong," he apologized.

"It's fine," Aerith assured him a bit too quickly. "It's actually quite amazing."

"Really? You like dark roast that much?" he asked sarcastically. Leon had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"No, I mean that you've managed to become so self-sufficient," she told him confirming his intuition. Aerith continued on in a sugar sweet tone. "You've really overcome your challenges. I'm sure a lot of differently-abled veterans could learn from you."

Leon's grip tightened around his mug, and he took drink of coffee to hide his grimace. It never ceased to surprise him that people honestly believed that the term "differently-abled" was acceptable. Leon was blind, not mentally disabled. He was a grown man and functioned like one. He didn't need a pat on the head from some well meaning goody-two-shoes. Taking a breath, Leon tried to let go of some of his frustration. He had realized a long time ago that most people weren't trying to be assholes; they were just ignorant.

"It's getting really late," he said flatly.

"Oh, you're right. I should go," Aerith agreed. "Thank you for the coffee. I feel much better."

The next morning, Leon had practically forgotten all about the florist and her woes. He had a long day at the cannery ahead of him. Leon's job at the cannery wasn't much more than monkey work. He sealed the boxes of canned goods that came off the line and loaded them onto a pallet a few feet behind him. It was back breaking and monotonous, but the paycheck was fair. Combined with his pension from the military, it was enough to pay the bills and to tuck a little aside in preparation for the inevitable.

After finishing his time in rehab, Leon had applied to a job placement program that the military offered for disabled vets that couldn't return to the front. With an already dwindling number of able-bodied men at home, most companies were willing to take applicants that they otherwise would have looked over. But now the war was over. Men who had their eyes and limbs intact were now flooding the job market again. The cannery bosses had been quick to assure their workers that no one would be let just because there was a line outside the employment office that looked a lot better than the battered group in front of them. No, instead the handicapped vets were suddenly called into the front office and let go for the smallest infraction. Thus far, Leon had avoided the ax by working harder and longer than the others, but he wasn't sure how long his luck would hold out.

By the end of his shift, Leon's back was aching and his feet were sore, but he had made it through another day. He made his way to the bus stop down the street just as a light rain began to fall. Instantly, his mind went back to his work locker where his umbrella was hanging. The dilemma at hand left him with two choices: he could walk back to the cannery and risk missing the bus, or he could simply stand in the rain. He felt the face of his watch and debated for only a minute before heading back to the cannery. By the time he made it back, Leon was just in time to hear the bus moving on. Trying desperately not to lose his temper, Leon sat on the bench. He knew the next bus would be by in half an hour, but he had to catch a second bus at the edge of the business district and that bus wouldn't be coming for almost another three hours. It suddenly seemed that his day would be a bit longer than he had thought.