Reprisal

Author Note: This is where the story starts to get a little more adult. I'm not getting into the 'lemons' here but there are adult themes. If the 'M' rating wasn't enough of a warning, consider yourself warned.

I was reading back through the whole of this story, and I'm not sure whether the timeline works or not. Cloud was a little distant when he got back in chapter…three… but it's been a while since then, and he's becoming more comfortable with the family situation.

Chapter Ten

Cloud ruffled his fingers through his wet hair as he wandered down the stairs. He still felt tired, but the shower had done a lot to clear his head, and now the only thought occupying his mind was breakfast.

His memory was still patchy, but he was pretty sure he knew what had happened last night. He'd argued with Elena, had a couple of drinks, wandered home and crawled into bed. He hadn't eaten before he'd gone out- that explained the hangover- and he'd made sure to be quiet so he didn't wake Tifa up. It all made perfect sense.

Except for the aching feeling in what felt like every muscle in his body. But a potion would cure that, combined with a warm shower, a good breakfast and a hug from the kids.

He was surprised at himself for being in such a good mood, given the hangover he'd woken up with. The sun through the window had that effect on him, once he'd woken up and stopped being the anti-social 'morning' Cloud. It reminded him of Aeris…and the sunny morning before the final fight with Sephiroth, when he'd woken up in the grass with Tifa in his arms…

He pushed the kitchen door open and stepped into the room.

Marlene was sitting on a chair, snivelling, with tears on her cheeks. Denzel stood next to her with his arms crossed. He was sulking; his back turned away from them, staring at the back door. Tifa was kneeling in front of the little girl. She was armed with plasters and potions.

"Are you alright Marlene?"

"I fell over," she whined, her voice shaking, "Denzel pushed me!"

"I did not!" Denzel replied angrily, glaring at her.

"Denzel!" Tifa snapped, "I don't want to have this conversation again!"

He couldn't see her face, but the way her shoulders were hunched told him she was angry. He'd never seen her snap at the children before…

"Tifa…" Marlene wailed, "I wanna call daddy!"

"Marlene you can't!" she replied, exasperated, "I told you, I'll try and get in touch with him as soon as possible. Please stop crying."

She sniffed again, and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

"Hey Marlene," Cloud smiled, and held out his hand, "Come here."

She climbed off the chair carefully, and limped across the kitchen before wrapping her arms around his legs. He stroked her hair affectionately.

"We'll tell daddy all about it, but until then you've got to be brave, ok?"

"Like you Cloud?"

"Yeah," he grinned and ruffled her hair.

"Marlene," Tifa still hadn't turned to look at him, "Denzel, will you go upstairs and get cleaned up please."

"But Tifa, we haven't had breakfast yet," Denzel pointed out, staring longingly at the fridge.

"I know Denzel. I'm sorry, but if you get cleaned up I'll have breakfast ready."

"But…"

"Denzel!" she snapped, "Please, just go!"

The boy looked from Tifa to Cloud, before frowning and running over to Marlene. He prised her away and took her hand, pulling her out of the room. Cloud watched them go, before walking over to Tifa and placing his hands on her shoulders gently.

"Tifa are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

Her reply was short and cold, and her voice cracked slightly, as though she was struggling to keep it under control. He squeezed her shoulders and turned her around to face him, to find her cheeks flushed and her eyes red and bloodshot.

"Have you been crying?"

"No!" she snapped, and pushed his hands away.

"Tifa?"

"It's nothing Cloud," she squeaked, and tried to compose herself, "It's nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing."

"It's nothing," she repeated.

He stared at her, and a tear spilled from one of the brown eyes and ran down her cheek. He cupped her hand with his palm and wiped it away with his thumb, and for a moment she let him comfort her. He edged closer, wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips again…

Then she pulled away.

"Don't."

"Why not?" he couldn't keep the confusion out of his voice.

She stared at him, glaring, as he stared back like a confused child. He was oblivious! She couldn't believe it. He couldn't just walk in there and pretend everything was ok. He couldn't…

"Why not?" her voice was barely audible, "Why not!"

"Tifa I don't know…"

She picked an enveloped up from the counter and slammed it into his chest, "I can't speak to you Cloud. Not right now."

He frowned, confused, and she stared back at him, refusing to look away. He fumbled to open the envelope, and tore the contents out, staring at them…

He gasped when he saw them. He couldn't help himself.

There were limbs everywhere, milky white, and lips pressed against lips, against skin, against… The photographs were obscene, faceless arms and legs and bodies tangled together, gleaming with sweat…

"What are these?"

"Keep…looking…"

He rifled through them. The woman had chestnut brown hair, curly and tousled. Her face was contorted in all of the pictures, though in pain or ecstasy he couldn't tell. But her lips leapt out of the picture at him, bright, deep red, biting at skin or screaming or crushed against flesh…

He flicked to the last photograph. The only one to show the face of the man the woman was entwined with. It slid from his hands, making a quiet impact as it hit the tiles.

His eyes were closed, and his face too was contorted with his efforts. But there was no mistaking the spiky blonde hair and the ring on the man's hand, standing out starkly against the breast it was clawing. An ornately carved wolf's head…

"Tifa…I swear…"

"Don't Cloud. Please don't."

"I don't…"

"Cloud!" her chest jerked violently as she sobbed, "Just don't!"