Yaay! This story is doing good! Which makes me happy! Which makes me write more, which makes you guys happy, which is all I want, and that makes you read more, and that makes me happy and . . .
Yeah! Soo, WHOOHOO!!!
And no. I have not forgotten about Cloud's girlfriend.

Her body felt heavy. It was almost as if she couldn't move. She knew that she had to be sleeping for a long time to feel like this.

Or they sedated me. Again.

It was a while before she recognized her fingers from her toes. When she finally realized that everything was accounted for, she opened her eyes. Or, she tried to. Tifa found it hard to do, seeing as her eyelids felt like lead. She clenched her teeth, breathing through them, and heard a gasp from . . . somewhere in the room. She became very still. She heard nothing else. Once again she tried opening her eyes, and this time her efforts were not in vain. The only problem was that she ended up closing them again. Talk about a wasted effort.

From what she gathered for that split second, the room was very bright. She figured she was laying directly under an incandescent light. She didn't like it, and, in turn, that made her hate incandescent lighting. I never want to see another one again. She sighed, then caught her breath. What is that? She felt a strange sensation on her arm, as if someone were touching her. Who's . . . who's grabbing my arm? She gulped, refusing to open her eyes to see who or what it might be. It had a hold of her arm now, shaking her softly. She let out a slow, deep breath, and opened her eyes, looking to her left.

There were the tiny hands of little Marlene, with a red stain on her white shirt.

Tifa let out a scream, sitting up abruptly and scooting all the way to the edge of the bed. The figure disappeared, a sad, frightened look on the small girl's face. Tifa grabbed her arm, her eyes wide as she stared down at the fabric she sat upon. It was then that she felt another pair of hands on her right arm. She shook her head.

"L-lemmego."

She heard herself, her speech garbled, and sighed, taking another deep breath. "Let. Me. Go," she said slowly. Looking now, she saw that all too familiar yellow mass of spikes and the wondrous clear blue sky beneath them. She took in a sharp breath through her teeth then, suddenly finding herself very angry with him.

"So, you're plotting against me too?"

To her amazement, he laughed at her. "That must be the most absurd thing I've ever heard."

She felt like slapping him. I'm not restrained. So that means I-- She gasped, looking down and around her. There were no straps holding her down to a bed, keeping her down. That's why I could move just now . . . Looking back at the man, a confused look on her face, she asked, "You're not trying to control me then?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm just trying to help you."

She threw her head back and cackled at that. "Help me? Sticking a needle into my shoulder--" Tifa stopped suddenly, forgetting just what she was going to say. She only stared at the opposite end of the room, seeing that it was not a wall with cement bricks like she was accustomed to, but a flat, red wall. Like the one in my house. Well, the texture at least. My wall at home is green.

"What were you going to say?"

She shook her head, releasing herself from her previous thoughts. "Huh?"

"You just stopped. What were you going to say?"

Tifa's eyebrows furrowed, now thinking of what exactly she was saying earlier. "I-I dunno. I forgot. It's like the thought was taken right out of my head or something . . ."

The man next to her sighed, getting up from where he was. She looked at him, wondering what he was thinking about at the moment. Probably of some kind of way to get rid of me. Sure, he seems nice and everything, but the nice people are always the ones to treat you the worse in the end. He probably stole my thought from me . . .

You sound absolutely idiotic right now.

"I do not!"

The man turned back to her, an eyebrow raised. Hers furrowed, and she turned away from him. Tifa heard another sigh, which did not help her current mood.

"What? Do you think I'm a wack-job too?"

He shook his head, and that surprised her. "No. I don't. I don't think you're crazy. Not . . . not bad crazy."

He sounds like Yuffie, Tifa thought to herself.

"But, I do think that you really need help."

"You think I don't know that either?" She got up from the bed, feeling the cold sensation of the floor on her naked feet. He didn't look afraid of her, and she didn't know why he should be. Most people like me aren't violent. "I do need it. I need it really bad. I got taken away from my kids because of what's wrong with me!" Tifa hugged herself, angry and sad with who she was. Why me? Why am I like this?

She sat down on the floor, and stayed very still. The psychiatrist sat down quietly next to her. "How many kids do you have?" he whispered.

"Two," she answered almost immediately. "Th-they're not mine. I adopted them. Or rather, I found Denzel on the street one day and just took him in. Marlene . . . well, I have this friend who works around the world mostly. Looking for some new energy source or something. He asked me to take care of her." She gulped, finding that her thoughts were scattered for a moment. After collecting them, she continued. "When he was finally ready to settle back down, he asked her if she wanted to stay with him, and she said no. He visits often. I'm surprised he hasn't gone and taken her back yet."

"Maybe he wants the best for you. He's not going to take her back when you need her, and Denzel, as much as I think you do."

She only nodded, refusing to move more than she had to. Tifa was actually waiting on him to ask that question that she knew she wouldn't want to answer.

"How long?"

She gulped, turning slightly towards him. "H-how long what?"

"You know what. How long, Tifa, has it been since you've taken your medicine?"

She sighed, letting out a shuddery breath. "Too long. I think maybe a week."

"That's ten doses you've missed out on."

"I know!" She took another deep breath, trying her best to calm herself. "I-I know that. It's just . . . I don't like taking it!"

"And why not?"

Tifa was starting to lose her patience with him. Why's he asking me all these questions? Why does it matter? "I don't like taking it because it makes me throw up sometimes. And I get a headache, which is something I already have most days. Most nights, I can't sleep . . ."

He sighed. "Tifa, with a lot of medication, there are side-effects like that. It can't really be helped. I wish I could take them away, but that's really how your body is responding to the medicine."

"Well, I don't like it." She puts her eyes on his frame, watching him to see how he would respond to that. He says nothing, just looks at her for a moment before standing up and taking a few steps around the room. "You know, you seem very interested in me. Why?"

He doesn't respond right away. The psychiatrist just keeps pacing, thinking about the last time he saw his teacher.

"You know you're taking on a very hard task my boy."

"Yes sir. I understand that. But, I don't think she's as bad as everyone makes her out to be."

"That's good. You have confidence. Never doubt the patient."

"Never."

He stops, sighing, looking down at the floor. Never doubt the patient. I never have. Not with her. She's not a bad person. Her case is just more severe than most others. And that's okay. I can help her. He turns back toward her, a small smile on his face. "Well, that's a bit hard to explain. Let's just say that you need me, and I kind of need you too. Except, I don't need you in the same way . . ."

Tifa growled. "I'm not needy--!"

"I don't mean it like that! Sure, you'll be fine without me, but I think that maybe . . . well, I think differently than the other doctors. Let's put it that way."

She snorted. "We sure are covering up a lot of things today."

He laughed. "Yes well . . . I have to. That's a part of my job."

"No, you're job is to help crazy people like me."

He shook his head. "Actually, you are my only "crazy person" to help. I don't have anyone else I'm supposed to be supervising."

Tifa sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. What? I'm his only patient? That can't be right! "How long have you been in this business?"

"That another story is for another day."

They sat there, silent for a while. Tifa had nothing else to really ask him, and he had nothing else to tell. Obviously. She stayed there on the floor for a few minutes, the cool tile relaxing her. She liked it. This is better than those candles. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, then did it again. Tifa continued to breathe like this for the remainder of the time she was on the floor. She wasn't paying any attention to what her "supervisor" was doing, even though she found herself very interested in what he did. And he's very into me. But for what reason? What he said didn't really answer my question. Looking at him, she saw that he was fiddling around with some things on a desk. She hadn't taken in the furniture before, and now she realized that the bed she was laying on wasn't really a bed, but one of those couches she has so often sat on to talk to a psychiatrist like himself. Well, maybe not like him. Those other people only seem interested in what I'm saying and trying to crack me open. He's actually interested in helping me. Yeah, cracking me open is a part of his job, but he wants to make this better for me, not for himself. I appreciate that a lot.

Tifa wasn't sure whether or not she should voice her thoughts to him, but she decided not to. He seemed too busy with whatever was on, what she assumed, his desk. Wonder what he's doing . . .Tifa got up slowly, not wanting to feel dizzy from the sudden movement. He turned around slightly to look at her, then continued with what he was doing. She heard a small clanking noise, and knew that the sound was a familiar one. When she was directly behind him, she tapped his shoulder lightly. "May I ask what you are doing?"

"You already did." He faced her, one hand balled up into a loose fist in front of him, the other holding a small cup of water. Tifa wondered where the water might have come from, but then saw the large water jug sitting on top of a fountain behind the desk, which was behind him. He held out the hand with the water, and she took it. He then held out his other hand, fingers facing downward, and she put her hand underneath it to catch whatever it was that was enclosed in his hand. She regretted doing so after two small pills fell from his hand to her own. Tifa had every mind to throw them onto the floor, but something made her stop.

Take them.

You know you need to.

Quit acting like a stupid two year old and take them!

"I'm not acting like a two year old!" Tifa's eyes grew big as she stared at him, who only mimicked her expression. "S-sorry about that. I'll just take these now." He nodded, and she turned around, taking a few steps around the room. One pill entered her mouth, and she took a swallow of water. She repeated this once more, then gasped. "Ugh, I hate this."

"I know you do, but you have to take them. It's only going to help you."

She shook her head. "Yeah, that's what they all say."

He laughed at her. "You are a very intriguing person. Does that answer your question from earlier?"

"No, but I'll take it." He began rummaging around his desk again, and Tifa decided to take a look around the room. She spotted a file on the opposite end of the bed that she once inhabited. There was a name on it that read "Strife."

"Strife?" she said quietly. He looked at her, and saw that she was focused on the file. He laughed again. "That's my last name. I'm Cloud Strife."

Facing him, she giggled. "Oh yay. Now I know the name of my mysterious psychiatrist. Well," she said, walking up to him, holding out her hand, "it's nice to meet you Cloud Strife, my psychiatrist. My name is Tifa Lockhart, insane schizophrenic extraordinaire." He took her hand, shaking it, chuckling at the same time. She only smiled. I think we'll get along just fine.

And just when she thought everything would be okay, the door opened. Tifa looked at it, and in the doorway was a woman wearing a pink dress. Her hair was long, brown and twisted. Tifa tilted her head to one side. At the sight of the both of them, a sour look clouded the woman's eyes, a fake smile playing on her lips.

Oh my. I think we just might have a problem then . . .

Well then, that was Chappi Four! I'm very happy with the way this fic is playing out. And, if you guys are happi, then that's good! Please, let me know about anything, anything at all, that I can do to make it better. If you have questions, please ask! I'll answer them to the best of my ability.
Told you I hadn't forgotten xDD