A/n Elfé was the cause of the disaster at Corel. The one that both ended and restarted Barret Wallace's life. If you play BC, you'll get to the part in the reactor where Elfé loses control of Zirconiade and blows a lot of things up. Well, a lot more things than she expected to. Anyway.

Elfé probably doesn't regret much in her life. Really, she's militant, headstrong, stubborn (they call this a Dragoon Trait), no-nonsense sort of person. She doesn't talk much. She acts on he own devices. Doesn't take orders from anyone.

I know for fact, over the half-year I've spent with Elfé in my headspace, that she never forgave herself for letting Corel become "another Kalm."

Also, the names I attach to Fuhito and Shears are: Fuhito Aramaki and Shears al Corro.

Most of the things she does are spur of the moment. She'll admit that. But this is something she's been planning for a long time. Or longer than she normally plans. Back since Fort Condor, where she was when she wasn't supposed to be but was anyway.

Back when she found herself fighting with AVALANCHE, but not herAVALANCHE. Respectable people none the less. She was a bit envious of all of them, in a way.

Or maybe it was since that day in Kalm, where she sat in the back corner of the local bar and listened to a pale man in blue and a dark man in combat fatigues discuss the end of the world and are you going back because I am.

When she'd stood up and tapped the dark man and asked if he wouldn't mind ifshe went back instead because don't you have a daughter?

Maybe it was then, not Fort Condor, when she realized this was what she had to do.

So she'd gotten a haircut from someone who didn't ask many questions and bought some workman's clothes and gone home and bound herself so she looked a bit like a very thin 19 year old boy and not a 20something year old girl and nodded before packing a bag of basically nothing and a few books.

She emptied what little she had saved up to her name and kept it in her boot and boarded a train the next day.
_

On the way to where she needed to go, she caught up on the state of things. She sat with a newspaper in her lap and read in silence while the people on the train got on and off.

WRO established…AVALANCHE members hailed as Heroes…Mako levels in Midgar deemed unsafe…Shinra blamed for havoc

She folded the newspaper and declined anything to drink, will that be all, Sir?Yes thank you, ma'am.

She takes grim pleasure in being called Sir.
_

She's got a backstory in her head, cemented down for reference if anyone asks. No one will, because so many people need work nowadays.

Although it was a risk, she decides that it was smart to shrink her katana into a sort-of necklace to wear beneath her shirt. She wouldn't feel safe without it; although she's very sure its presence may very well give her away, if it was ever seen.

Then again, she could be putting too much faith the impact of her infamy. By now, really, she was probably a nightmare of the past, or she'd been forgotten entirely. You mean there was a time when AVALANCHE actually was a terrorist group?

She gets off the train with her one bag and stands in the midst of reconstruction with about twenty other men. All of them are twice her size and appear to be at least twenty years older.

She eyes the situation regretfully and wonders if she's going to get caught this soon.

But no, it's a strangely rustic check in where they ask for her name ("Corro Aramaki") and place of birth ("Cosmo Canyon") and age ("Just turned 20, Sir") and ask for some of her basic skills and this all goes into one of the foreman's ledger books and she's waved through with the line of workers being admitted that day. Soldiers in almost uniforms with bands that read W.R.O. stand with the foremen, taking in the data and sending it back to the new city of Edge, for processing.

Her name goes into the database and Elfé Dragoon becomes Corro Aramaki. Worker in the rebuilding of North Corel.

Her name, made up of two names, when put together like that, mean nothing, unless you actually are looking for the old AVALANCHE.

Her plan is to stay as long as possible, but she's aiming for a year. Because if these people don't figure out who she is, Veld will most certainly find her after that amount of time. She knows he's already looking anyway.

Two weeks in the foremen start working for a new man. New to the workers, old to her. He picks out her group of workers (they were getting praise from all the townspeople for their work ethic) to head and they start off on just another day.

"Name's Barret Wallace, and this's my home. I'll be leadin' ya from here."

Elfé, known as Corro, keeps her hat low over her eyes and doesn't make a sound when the rest of the men cheer.
_

Every night in the mess hall, it's the same thing. She sits in a corner and eats a bit and listens to the other men talk. It reminds her of all those nights after successful missions. Everyone has a goal and that makes them happy.

She inadvertently draws his attention by trying not to draw attention. Sitting in that back corner, he follows her and sits down, twice as much food on his plate.

This makes sense to her, he's two…almost three times her size.

"Corro, right?" Barret Wallace is loud even when he's being quiet, and she just nods. "Hearing good things about ya."

She nods again, not trusting her voice. Because she's pretending to be male and for some reason she's sure he'll be able to tell she's not.

Elfé knows why he's been hearing about her. She works harder than all the other men (because she's smaller, she almost has to in order to keep up), doesn't complain, works far more than her cost in food…

She knows some people are suspicious of her, though, because she's so quiet.

"You don't say much," he states, and she nods.

"No sir," she decides to say, in a practiced male voice. "Just…don't got much to say."

Barret nods.

"I hear ya're here on yer own."

"Yes sir."

"You got family?" Elfé nods. "Mom? Dad?"

"Pa," she says, adopting the name Shears used to use for his parents. "Ma's dead." Barret nods again. Of course he understands that.

"It's a good thing yer doin'. Yer Pa must be proud."

And Elfé puts her head on the table and shrugs.

"Dunno, sir." It's the first honest thing she says in months.
_

Elfé's been working hard, and her voice is rough enough from nonuse to actually begin to pass for a male, at least slightly.

She has her own tent, now. More of a lean-to, but it's all her own. She feels bad about that, but it's something Barret declared.

She's actually got a promotion, sort of. She's in charge of the record keeping at night, after the building is done. That's why she's got her own place, Barret said. Because she's keeping track of the books.

It's also been pointed out to her that she's not scared of Barret, specifically his prosthetic gunarm. She's asked about it.

"My friend had one," she muttered. "T'wasn't a gun, but…My pa too…"

Elfé sees the cogs working in Barret's mind. There aren't many people who have prosthetics.
_

It is a full year before someone walks onto their happiness.

Specifically, it's a man in a blue suit.

The dinner bell is rung during midday and everyone knows something isn't right so they all gather in the main square and Elfé goes along with a sinking feeling of dread.

It looks like a great fighter ring, with all the men circled around the man in the blue suit and the ex-miner.

Turk vs Terrorist; Veld vs. Barret.

Even if the people didn't know Veld by his face (which was highly unlikely) they knew him by his suit, and the tensions went volatile instantly. Barret crossed his arms and barked

"Whadda want?"

Veld seemed unfazed by the sheer number of people glaring at him with intent to kill.

"I'm looking for someone," he says simply. He crosses his arm as well. Sunlight glints off of the two men's prosthetic arms. That sinking feeling Elfé felt earlier intensifies. Someone makes some comment about the Turk coming to kill someone and the whole crowd roars to life.

Barret shoots three times into the air and it gets silent again.

"Who?"

"My daughter." Elfé's face literally falls, but no one notices. Barret puts his now-gun-arm at his side.

"Elfé."Barret states, and Veld looks shocked. He uncrosses his arm and nods…slowly. "What, Turk, ya think I don't know yer girl?" Veld says nothing. "Why do ya think she's here?"

"Because, if she's anything like me she'll—"Veld starts and Barret cuts him off.

"What did you just say?"

"I meant…" Veld chooses his next words carefully. "She would want to give back to…"

"To Corel, 'cause she thinks it's 'er fault." Veld sighs and rubs his forehead. "Corro!" Both Elfé and Veld start, and everyone's eyes are on her.

"Ye-Yessir?" she calls, but doesn't move from the crowd.

"There anyone named Elfé here?"

Yes. "N-not on record, Sir!"

Barret turns to look at her. Veld has locked on to her too. He looks a bit shocked at her appearance, but he knows.

And so too does Barret.

"Do you want to go home, Corro?"

Now everyone's muttering because they just don't understand what's going on. Finally she steps forward and takes off her hat.

Barret stares at her, no one else, and asks again

"You wanna go home… Elfé?" She lets out a sigh.

"Barret Wallace," she says, and her own voice, her real voice, sounds so weird. It's been a year since she's heard it. "I'm…"

"Don't be," he interrupts, and walks forwards to put his hands on her shoulders. His gunarm is harmless again. She's dwarfed by his size but doesn't flinch. "I'm proud of ya."

She stares at him and actually smiles slightly.

"I don't deserve it."

"Yeah? I don't deserve to be a hero…"

She nods.

"Elfé," he adds, as he lets go. "I think that damn Turk is proud of ya too."
_

Barret seems sad to watch them go, but Elfé never looked back to check his reaction. The man walked back to his tent and went to an old, heavy traveling trunk. Out of it he pulled a sort of folder.

In it were all the things from back when he'd started AVALANCHE in Midgar. It seemed like decades ago, not two years…

One thing he still had was the old "WANTED" pictures, of the original AVALANCHE leaders. He found Elfé's picture easily, and stared at it for a long time.

Yeah, he'd forgiven her. Because the Corel incident for her was Sector Seven for him. And he got that now.

Plus…he never expected her to be so…small. The Shinra broadcasts had made her into some monster, and yet she was just this…tiny little girl. He couldn't imagine Marlene in her shoes. He didn't want to.

He noticed, strangely, that the corner was turned down. It hadn't been the last time. Flipping it over, his eyes widened slightly when he saw the writing.

My only regret is that I didn't actually save anyone. – Elfé

There was a knock at the door. The men wanted an explanation. Flipping the paper back over, he picked up the folder.

It was time they knew about AVALANCHE.