AN: Thanks to everyone for the kind reviews! I'm glad you have all been enjoying this so far. I'm actually a bit surprised at myself with how fast this story has been pouring out of me. Things might slow down a little bit now that the plot is thickening, but I hope you'll enjoy future chapters just the same.

Please leave a follow, fav, or review, as always. I appreciate your readership so much!

"Can you get up now?"

The voice woke her from a deep, black sleep. The words were muddled, distorted—almost inhuman. When she finally opened her eyes, the world seemed drained of color, as if a veil of gray light had been drawn over the land. She heard the droning beat of rainfall, like radio static. Slowly, her vision sharpened. She looked down and saw a pale hand gripping tightly to her shoulder, knuckles white and shaking. She lolled her head to the side and looked up, greeted with the first few splashes of color: blue flares glowing beneath a sunburst of yellow hair.

"Tifa, the rain is slowing down," he said, his voice still muffled. "Can you get up?"

Tifa blinked wildly, her eyes going wide as Cloud's face slowly came into focus. His hair was matted and wet, cheeks drained of color, lips frosted blue. He was shivering as he held her in a blanket, teeth chattering and shoulders twitching. He had strung up the remnants of the tent against Fenrir to create a small shelter from the pouring rain, but half of his body was still exposed. He had wrapped her in anything he could find, leaving himself completely unprotected from the elements. There was a hole in his sleeve where three sharp talon marks were engraved deep in his skin, running red in the rain. Tifa, bleary from the blackout, reached out and touched them, and she felt him flinch back.

As if struck by lightning, she sat up straight and sucked in a deep breath, shrugging out of the blankets and sheets Cloud had packed around her. "Oh, Cloud…" Logic and reason returned to her, and she forfeited the comforting warmth to wrap the layers around him instead, pulling him further under the shelter. Even Cloud would not protest, though he looked somewhat ashamed.

"How long was I out?" Tifa asked, stroking her hands up and down his shoulders.

"A few hours," Cloud admitted, though she knew he had probably underestimated that number. Tifa turned her head and looked out over the gray lands, wet and sodden with rain. In the distance, she saw pillars of light forcing their way through the clouds.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"No," he said, his voice abrupt and strained. "I'm just glad you're alright."

Tifa looked away and leaned back against Fenrir, drawing her legs up close to her chest. Suddenly, she felt Cloud grasp her arm. When she looked back at him, she saw something like fear glinting in his eyes.

"Did you really see him?"

She had almost forgotten that flash of black, the murmur of laughter, the singing blade. She took a deep breath in, her heartbeat slowing to a crawl.

"It was just an illusion." Cloud did not seem comforted by this. He knew as well as she did the kind of pain illusions could bring. Tifa forced a smile and pushed his matted, messy bangs out of his face, letting her hands fall back to his shoulders. "Get warm," she ordered. "When the rain stops, we'll head out."

By the time Fenrir roared into Lower Junon carrying Cloud and Tifa, the sun's rays were finally bursting through the clouds, burning off the torrential rain that had soaked the land a few hours before. The massive bike raced through the puddles left behind as Cloud gunned it through the sleepy village, heading for the lift at the center of the town that would take them to Upper Junon. The city above was still as booming as ever—the one remnant of Shinra's war legacy still left standing. Now, though, the banners no longer hung a harsh Shinra red, but rather a shimmering green representing the WRO. The Organization's navy now trained out of the city, though a force that large hadn't been needed since the Deepground incident a year before.

Cloud slowed Fenrir as they approached the lift, and a WRO trooper came out to meet them.

"Identification please."

He leaned the bike over, still running, onto one foot and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He retrieved his and Tifa's IDs and handed them to the trooper, whose eyes went wide.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Strife—Ms. Lockhart," he promptly handed the IDs back to them. "The Captain is waiting for you in the hangar. This lift will take you straight up."

The trooper slammed the release button on the lift's bulkhead, and slowly the doors parted to allow them through. Cloud eased the bike inside, flipping down the kickstand as the lift slowly began to rise toward the city above.

Tifa sat back in her seat, giving Cloud a curious look. "Did I hear that right?" she asked. "'The Captain' is waiting for us, huh?"

Cloud hid an amused smile. "I still have some friends left," he replied.

A few moments later, the lift rocked to a stop, and the doors parted to reveal a huge, windy landing field, its tarmac glowing hot under the now-pulsing sun. Fenrir raced out onto it, leaning left to head toward a hangar bay near the back of the landing strip. Once inside, Cloud slowed the bike to a stop just beneath the nose of a huge fighter jet.

Tifa gazed reverently up at the thing, its silver paint shimmering in the fluorescent lights. She was aghast at is beauty, until suddenly her eyes fell on a mural painted on its side—a half-naked woman with the words "Lady Luck" sandwiched on either side of her. She rolled her eyes.

Suddenly, the cockpit hissed open, and a wild-eyed, grayish-haired old man popped his head up over the control panel, smiling down at them.

"Well if it ain't my two favorite landlubbers!"

Cid stood up and stretched backward, wincing as his back popped. He then pulled a cigarette from the headband of his goggles, lit it, and shoved it in his mouth, hopping down onto the wing of the jet.

"Glad you could join the party," he chortled between puffs on his cigarette. "Damn, y'all look like shit!"

Cloud cleared his throat and dismounted, Tifa following suit. "We got stuck in the rain."

"Aw, don't tell me a little rain had ya stumped," Cid quipped "You youngins and yer earthbound deathtraps. The rain woulda been no match for something like ol' Silverwing here." He put his foot up on the cockpit of the jet before throwing his head back in laughter. When Cloud and Tifa only exchanged sarcastic glances, he stopped, scoffed, and hopped to the ground, approaching the pair of them with a huge grin on his face.

Cloud held out his hand for a shake, but Cid opened his arms and took him into a huge hug, lifting him a few inches off the ground. "Good ta see ya, Cloud!" he bellowed, placing him back down. Tifa, though still a little tired from the stressful night, couldn't help but laugh. Hearing this, Cid marched over to her and gave her the same treatment, squeezing her with her arms at her sides, punching all the wind out of her. "Tifa, ya spry little thing, how ya been!" When he released her, she straightened her top and stifled another laugh.

"Fine, Cid. Just fine."

Cid moved back and laughed his hearty laugh again. "Good ta hear it," he said. "So, I hear you two need a ride to Costa del Sol?"

Cloud nodded, leaning leisurely against Fenrir. "That's right," he said. "What are our options?"

Cid popped his cigarette out of his mouth and blew a smoke ring toward the ceiling. "Well I'm afraid y'all'r shit outta luck for tonight," he said matter-of-factly. "I ain't scheduled for a cargo run till tomorrow morning."

"Oh, come on," Cloud said. "Don't tell me Cid Highwind, Captain of the WRO naval forces, can't pull some strings for his old friends."

"Hey now," Cid protested. "Things ain't like they used to be, flyin' willy nilly all over the place in the Highwind. I gotta a reputation to uphold."

Cloud heaved a frustrated sigh. Tifa's cheeks grew warm with shame—she knew it was her fault they had missed their chance to cross the ocean by nightfall, and now they were stuck here the rest of the night. She had successfully set them back an entire day.

"Welp, if you're willin' ta wait around till tomorrow, I'll take ya down to the best pub in Junon for a drink," Cid said. "We can tear up like we used to!"

Cloud kicked himself off of Fenrir, folding his arms into his chest. "Fine," he conceded. "But you're buying."

"SAKE, SAKE, SAKE!"

There was a bang like a gunshot, followed by two high-pitched clinks, and suddenly Cloud and Cid were downing sake-fizzing beers like their lives depended on it. The entire bar erupted with cheers as Cid slammed his empty mug down just seconds before Cloud, his face flushed bright red.

"That's right!" he yelled to the bar, standing on the footrest of his stool. "Ain't nobody can take on the Great—Cid—Highwind!"

The bar patrons, mostly WRO grunts and infantrymen, cheered even louder and patted their captain on the back.

"Oh, sit down, you cranky-legged old man," Cloud jeered over the crowd. "If you fall over, you're gonna break your hip."

Cid, hearing this, fell back wobbling onto his stool, laughing from somewhere deep in his chest. "Another round, on me!" he cried, eliciting another huge cheer from the crowded bar.

Tifa, still nursing her first beer of the night, sighed as another one was placed down in front of her. When she'd first head they'd be going to the bar, she had been expecting a nice quiet night drinking with her old friend. However, when the first round of sake bombs was ordered, things had started to get a bit out of hand. It wasn't often Cloud got drunk, but when he did, he could quickly become a handful.

"Cloud, where the hell've ya been?" Cid suddenly cried, throwing his arm around his shoulder. "It feels like I only ever see ya when ya need something. Why donchya ever come drink with me like this? Huh?!"

Cloud grimaced, taking a big swig of his beer. "I've been busy."

"OH, bullshit!" Cid grumbled. "Things ain't like they used to be. You don't always gotta be on the move. You gotta take some time to relax or you'll burn yourself out. You were always such a hardass, even back then. Why donchya let other people handle some of your shit once in a while?"

"Yeah, well, some people aren't cut out for that kind of life."

Tifa turned her head to him at this, peering cautiously at him in the dim light of the bar. She wondered what kind of life he wanted, if not one where he could share his many burdens with others.

"You're so full of it," Cid said loudly. "'Member—'member that time ya'll stole the Tiny Bronco? Right out from under ol' Palmer's fat nose? Come on! What happened to that Cloud?"

Cloud let slip a small laugh, though it seemed a bit forced. "Well, that wasn't really my fault."

"That was my favorite lil' plane," Cid whined. "I was so mad when ya'll ruined it."

Cloud tapped his beer idly on the counter. "Then why the hell did you come along?"

"'Cause I'd never met anyone crazy enough to do somethin' like that!"

Tifa listened carefully as the pair of them spoke, and though her mind was working hard to recall the moment they were discussing, it felt very much like her memory of the Zolom—whitewashed and vague.

"Oh, and remember when we finally took the rocket into space?" Cid mused. "God, it was so beautiful…"

"Yeah, and that tank almost blew your leg off," Cloud shot back.

"Shit," Cid said. "I was hoping ya'll wouldn't remember that."

But Tifa didn't. She recalled their plan to take down Meteor with the huge Materia, but she would have remembered being so close to the stars—and she couldn't.

"Then there was the time we took the submarine down to the ol' sunken Gelnika and—oh, remember when we stole the Highwind back from Shinra—?"

Tifa stood abruptly and stepped down off the bar. Cloud spun around and looked over the many heads to see her weaving through the crowd toward the exit.

"Tifa!" he cried. She didn't reply.

"The hell's wrong with her?" Cid grumbled. "She's been quiet as a mouse since we got down here. Ain't she a bartender? Can't she hold her liquor?"

"No, it's not that," Cloud replied, so quiet Cid could barely hear. "She's been like this ever since we left. I think she's nervous to go back to Nibelheim."

Cid slammed his mug down on the counter. "Tch! That stupid backwoods town? What's there to be so afraid of?"

Cloud shot him a grave look.

"Ah shit, I forgot ya'll were from there…" Cid mumbled. "Damnit! I'm not drunk enough for this! Bartender! Another round'a sake bombs over here!"

With the shower slowly running cold, Tifa looked at herself in the mirror.

She couldn't remember when she'd gotten so many wrinkles on her forehead, or when her hair had gotten so long and frayed. She seemed like a stranger to herself, and her memories felt like someone else's. It bothered her how fast she had lost some of them—things as young as the battle with Bahamut SIN were already growing gray in her mind. Half of her blamed this on the disparity between that life and the one she lived now—perhaps she was simply making space for more pleasant, happy memories—but the other half reminded her of the last time her recollections had become this muddled.

She shook her head of these thoughts, finally turning toward the shower and dropping the towel tucked around her chest. She rolled back the glass door and stepped in, feeling the shock of the cool stream as it washed over her body.

Cid had given them reservations at the local inn, and she was glad for the opportunity to shower, knowing it might be several more days before they'd reach running water again. The stream seemed to wash more than just her body—it cleared her mind and refreshed her senses. She took the time to focus her energy on the future instead of the past—as soon as they crossed the ocean, they'd be in striking distance of Nibeheim, where she could finally see Zangan again and put the mysterious rumors to bed.

Soon, the water grew too cold for her to bear. She shut the stream off and stepped out into the bathroom again, picking up the towel she'd discarded. She ran it over her hair and squeezed the excess water from it before wrapping it around her middle, moving out into the bedroom where she'd left her bag sitting on the floor. With her free hand, she rummaged through it, pulling out some loose clothes to sleep in.

Out in the living area, she suddenly heard the door open, and she shot up straight. Through the crack in the door, she saw Cloud stumbling inside, his foot kicking the door closed loudly behind him. Quickly, she swept over to the bedroom door, and she closed and locked it. She then dropped her towel to dress in private.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

"Tifa," Cloud mumbled softly.

"Hold on," she replied. "I'm just getting dressed."

When she was fully clothed again, Tifa threw the wet towel into the bathroom before unlocking and turning the handle on the bedroom door. She moved away from it as Cloud pushed it open, standing in the doorway on unsteady legs.

"There you are," he said in a gravelly voice.

Tifa gave an uneasy laugh and moved toward one of the two twin beds on the other side of the room. There, she stood beside it and ran a brush through her hair, watching as Cloud wobbled toward her. He stood across from her, leaning against the nightstand for support.

"Why did you leave the bar?" he asked, squinting at her in the dark.

Tifa sighed as she braided her hair. She could smell the liquor on him. "I was tired," she lied.

Suddenly, Cloud stumbled around to the other side of the bed. "I'm sorry, Tifa," he said, for no apparent reason. She gave him a perplexed look when suddenly he reached his hand out and stroked her braid, his half-lidded eyes glowing as they roamed over her.

"Cloud," she said, pulling her braid from his grasp, "what are you doing?"

"I'm sorry," he muttered again.

Tifa just scoffed and pulled back the sheets on her bed, slipping down into them and turning away from him. Cloud stood beside her for a while, swaying drunkenly where he stood. She could feel his eyes burning into her, and it made her uneasy.

Finally, she felt him move away from her, and she heard the sound of him knocking into the dresser behind him. It had been a long time since he'd drunk himself to such a state.

In the silence that followed, Tifa closed her eyes and settled deeper into bed, hoping Cloud's inevitable hangover would allow her to sleep off the stress of the past few days. However, she suddenly felt the weight shift on the bed behind her, and she opened her eyes to see Cloud's arm reaching over her in the dark. Like a reflex, she moved her hand up and pushed it away, nearly knocking him off the bed in the process.

"Cloud," she muttered, "there's a perfectly good bed right over there."

But he didn't listen. He rocked his body closer to her, his nose brushing the bare skin of her neck. Shuddering, Tifa lurched away and sat up, spinning fiercely on him. "Cloud, stop."

He leaned up on his forearm with a cruel look in his eyes. "Oh, so it's only okay when you want me?" he shot.

Tifa inhaled sharply, hurt. "Cloud, you're drunk."

"Yeah, so what?" he muttered, sitting up and throwing his legs off the bed.

"So you're acting like an idiot."

He turned his head over his shoulder and glared down at her. "Oh, don't give me that," he said, his voice hoarse. "I came all the way out here for you and you won't even—" He stopped, his jaw clenching.

"Won't even what?" Tifa coaxed.

Cloud suddenly stood, his body swaying into the dresser again. He turned sharply on her. "A little thanks would be nice."

Tifa puffed up and gripped at the sheets, her eyelids stinging with wetness. "Get out." Cloud's face suddenly softened, but she blinked back her tears and thrust her finger at the door. "Get out!"

He turned his head up defiantly before pushing off the dresser, stumbling toward the door with hunched shoulders. He grasped the handle on his way out and pulled it closed with a sharp slam, leaving Tifa with tears cutting salty rivers down her cheeks.