"Yesterday is history.

Tomorrow is a mystery.

Today is a gift.

That's why they call it the present."

- Alice Morse Earle

-. Wait For It .-

Chapter XII: The Gift

Tifa was tired.

She was always tired lately.

Not sleeping generally had that effect on a person, but she tried not to let it distress the household nor her business too badly. And, for the most part, she succeeded.

She still made the kids their meals. Still went through their lessons with them. Still met with Reeve to survey the building progress of the new school. Still served food and drinks at the bar. Still chatted with Yuffie or Barret or whoever else was currently occupying the office in order to babysit her under the guise of keeping the delivery service afloat. Still returned to her bed every night and lay there, staring at the ceiling, waiting.

It was the same life as before, the two long years he had been emotionally and physically absent, just without any sleep this time.

It wasn't that bad.

Especially on night a like tonight, when there was still a lot of work to be done and she was grateful not to be distracted by the once natural lure of her bed.

Crouched over a sewing machine in the corner of her room with a tiny desk lamp as her only source of light, Tifa carefully guided the last seam through the feed, biting her lip in concentration. This was the eighth time she was attempting to close this tricky edge, her last chance to get it right seeing as she was running out of thread and wouldn't have a chance to pick up more before tomorrow morning. It simply had to work. It had to be perfect.

"Andddddd….voila!" she whispered into the darkness, shaking out the complete garment and holding it up to the light.

Perfect it indeed was. A delicate, little, white dress with puffed sleeves, pink embroidered roses, thick ribbons and matching slippers; a project that she had spent this entire, restless month piecing together, ripping apart, redesigning and piecing together again. Finished at last.

With a smile, an expression that rarely graced her lips as of late, Tifa snipped at any loose threads and brushed away some imaginary dust, prepping it for storage within the decorated box left open on her bed spread. Once folded, she placed the dress inside as daintily as if it were a newborn child before replacing the lid and rearranging the flamboyant bow which topped it all off.

A glance at the clock on her nightstand confirmed that she had just made the deadline. 12:01 it read.

"Happy Birthday Marlene," she said quietly, taking a deep breath of chilly, night air.

The gaudy box remained still on her bedspread, bright pink contrasting with the navy of her comforter. It already seemed pathetic, she noted with a frown. Despite its expense, both time and gil wise, she knew it wouldn't be enough. Nothing would be enough to make them forget, even for a moment, the person who should have been there. The person who that little girl needed to be there when she blew out the candles.

Gods…how she was dreading the party tomorrow. Marlene probably even more so. But Barret had insisted. He figured that through being besieged by wave after wave of family, friends and respected acquaintances, the unconventional household could find some way to temporarily fill the void. As if the mass of people would serve as anything other than a pressing reminder at how his love had so easily failed in comparison.

'Don't think about it,' Tifa had to remind herself. A mantra she found to be repeating several times a day, and especially when left alone like this. 'Just don't think about it. It'll hurt too much. You can't afford to think about it.'

A deep breath, a feigned impervious grin and the thoughts were immediately expelled. She had a month of practice after all. Not to mention quite a few early episodes of unpreventable, muffled sobs after serving a customer a glass of Corel wine (his favorite) or while giving a vocabulary lesson (Denzel still can't spell desertion) that forced her into finding some way of keeping it together. The facade never lasted long though. Fewer and fewer minutes with every passing day. But at least it bought her enough time to, usually, come up with an excuse to hide, lock herself in somewhere, and silently allow a tear or two to fall. Tonight was no exception. So she picked up the box, rearranging its bow a final time while placing it on her dresser, all before heading to the bathroom; going through the usual pre-bed, ritual show just for the sake of those other bodies that she knew listened for her movements.

Brush teeth. Wash face. Braid hair. She pushed through the mechanical motions as if it were a choreographed dance that had been programmed into her. Her limbs felt heavy and slack as if they were on rusty hinges, pulled by strings that she had no control over. And as she crawled under the covers, another ruse staged for those who were known to check on her, she let herself disintegrate into a form of standby mode. Her body needing to rest even though her mind wouldn't, couldn't, shut down. A single trail of liquid leaked out of the corner of her eye, and then another. And finally…quiet.

She had survived another cycle of sunrises and sunsets, this hour marking exactly thirty-two days since he had left this very room. It was always the same; the morning spent in misery, an afternoon of questioning 'why?' finished with a night of debilitating loneliness.

And tomorrow it would start all over again.

Perfect.


It was nearly four am when her eyes shot open, instantly alert and invigorated by a hidden reserve of adrenaline.

Someone was in her room. Someone who wasn't the tip-toeing Marlene and Denzel, nor the staggering of Yuffie after closing the bar.

No, these steps were heavier. Slower. Hesitating. As if they knew they didn't belong. As if they were poised for a quick retreat if necessary.

A thief? A sexual predator? A large and ferocious wild animal? Tifa didn't waste time in finding out. And the visitor didn't waste time in reacting.

As soon as her arm shot out she knew the punch wouldn't be fast enough, her body having become sluggish and weak from lack of exercise, eating and sleep, so she wasn't surprised when her wrist was easily caught. What did surprise her though, was the perpetrator.

His grip was tight, stronger than one would think from so slender an arm. His gloves, leather still cool from outdoors, slid easily against her skin as he loosened his grip. She followed the limb up to a torso, covered in a navy sweater unzipped just far enough to reveal the V of his collar bone, dark riding goggles hung around a smooth, pale neck. Up further were lips, pale and chapped from the effects of constant wind, and cheeks that were red from being slightly sun burnt. She stopped there. She couldn't go any further. His eyes, they had always been too difficult to replicate even in her imagination. Looking into them would ruin things.

"I'm…dreaming," she deduced at last. With a breathless chuckle she fell back into bed, pressing the meat of the pillows up against the sides of her face in an attempt to snap herself out of it through evasion. This was far from the first time, and the phantom had long since become more of a reason for annoyance other than concern. After all, insomnia was known to do funny things to people's mental health, and she was too tired to do anything more than acknowledge and attempt to reason with her mind's gradual degradation.

"Please get out of my head," she begged her subconscious, eyes squeezing shut and then roughly blinking open again, trying to erase the sight of the shadowed figured as if it were a mere stubborn stain. "I know you love me. I know you miss me. I know everything I've ever wanted to hear from you. So tonight, please, just leave me alone. I'm not in the mood."

The phantom stayed silent. Hallucinations, good hallucinations, usually did. Giving them a voice usually gave them too much of your own personality, breaking the spell.

What he did instead was coyly place himself on the edge of the bed beside her. His hand, still lightly gripped to her wrist, pulled ever so slightly, coaxing her closer without insisting. Giving her more than enough opportunity to free herself, to resist.

As if her body would ever allow her that option.

So with a sigh, she permitted herself to be drawn into a sitting position, resigned to staggering through the usual scene until properly awoken. On the way, as if by its own resolve, her loose neck fell forward onto a surprisingly solid shoulder, the wool unpleasantly scratching her cheek. He smelled just like he always had, but...better this time around. Skin-censored menthol, tinged with fire and earth instead of the usual soap and metal. It was his scent that triggered it for her, forcing her mind to rouse itself a little and pay proper attention.

"Cloud..."

Hands blindly reached upward, vision still focused on the blackness beneath her eyelids, until fingers fell upon the open collar of his sweater. His travelling clothes, the ones she had seen and laundered a million times before, were more worn than usual. The fabric was thinner and her finger wriggled into a hole in the knit near the base of his throat.

Strange that such specific imperfection should find its way here, into her fantasy. Stranger still how it caused her heart rate to speed up.

"Cloud?"

Still unsure, she again repositioned her hands to pick at the tufts of hair at the base of his neck. It was as soft as always. Like chocobo feathers. But also slightly greasy and damp. As if he hadn't washed it in days. Days which had included several occasions of rigorous exercise. And his face...she instructed those same fingers to trace his jaw, feeling there a notable stubble that had been invisible in the dim light; a feature that her usual, groomed Cloud had never allowed to happen, if only because he would never hear the end of his friends' teasing on the subject of how pale, fine and therefore pointless the growth was.

It was slowly starting to sink in then. Fantasy being conquered by reality. The way he felt and smelled and sat stiffly proving that this was no dream lover, but a real, disgruntled man fresh from a long and, apparently, arduous journey.

As a final test, she pulled away slightly, till their faces were but an inch apart. On her way, she found a new scar by his ear and gasped as how long and surgically straight it was. But before asking about it, before doing or thinking anything else, she forced herself to meet his eyes.

Any lingering haze of doubt was immediately expelled then. For those bright blue irises encasing a growing ring of shimmering jade, they were impossible to even dream.

Tifa was suddenly and violently rendered fully awake.

"You're back," she whispered. It was a statement, but the slight end infection hinted to its questioning nature.

Cloud nodded once, shortly and deftly. "I'm back."

A series of potential reactions briefly assaulted her brain as she took her first, fully conscious breath in what felt like decades. Questions of where he had been, what took him so long, where did the scar come from, was he here to stay etc., all stampeded towards her, each vying for dominance. Though they were all deemed important, some more than others, easily rearranging themselves into a prioritized list for the coming interrogation, Tifa's heart was given first swing at the situation. And the first thing it wanted, the first thing it needed, was to feel alive again.

As if in slow motion, she watched, powerlessly, as the gap between them closed. Gently, she wandered the rough edges of his lips with her own, hoping to expel the discomfort or at least distract from it. Not to mention, perhaps hoping to inspire him into performing a proper reunion. It had been so long, too long, since she had felt his touch, and she found herself eagerly craving it. His very presence was like that of a inhalable narcotic to which she had long since become hopelessly addicted. So much so that she blamed her dramatic actions on the first few days following his departure as a form of withdrawal symptoms.

But he was back. Maybe only for tonight, but in that moment she didn't care. One hit and she could be satiated for a while longer. Just a minute of the passion he so sparingly doled out, proof that it still existed after so many weeks apart, and then maybe she could sleep soundly tonight.

Alas, humoring her was far from his most pressing of purposes.

Cloud remained still. Too still. He was only stiffly tolerating her explorations, silent and frigid as if counting down the seconds until she was finished. It was then that she noticed how strangely not warm he was, and not just in his reactions. His mouth, for the first time when she pressed against it, felt like she was kissing a block of solid ice, when in the past they had always contained a heat that made her instantly feel fevered.

Her eyes snapped open.

Something was wrong.

This...this cadaver wasn't her Cloud. He couldn't be. Everything was...a little off. His smell, she just noticed, wasn't as potent as usual; the minty tinge more of a buoying suggestion than a constant assault on her nostrils. His skin didn't contain its usual electric tingle. And even his eyes, the ones she had been so delighted to recognize the unique coloring of, she hadn't bothered then to notice how dim they were. How, relatively, plain they were; a quiet and flat blue-green.

"Cloud..." She pulled away hesitantly, fingers on his chin forced his head to tilt left, then right, trying to catch the glow from a different angle.

Nothing.

"What..." A shaky breath was released as her equally trembling hands drew back, suddenly and unexpectedly terrified. Questions, despite their awkwardness, instantly became the new priority. "What happened to you?"

It was a long, tense filled moment before he reacted in any way, and even then it was only with the opening and closing of his mouth and a few stuttered syllables. After a minute or two of fruitless trying, he averted his eyes and quietly groaned.

"I shouldn't have come here," he muttered before abruptly leaping to his feet and moving toward the corner of the room, dirt-speckled gloves rubbing down his face. "It was stupid to come back here."

"S-Stupid?" Tifa repeated in disbelief, her voice already cracking. "H-how can home be...how can you even say..." she took a moment to clear her throat, anger suddenly overriding the whole other myriad of emotions currently swelling within her. Instantly invigorated, she threw off the covers and moved to stand defiantly before him, vainly trying to capture his lowered eyes. It was almost the same positions they had been in when he left all those weeks ago among candlelight and rose petals, but this encounter would end differently. He had no choice but to end it differently, neither of them would allow otherwise.

"If you want to go, go!" she spat with much more vehemence than intended with one finger pointed at the door, to which Cloud notably flinched. "Go now and don't ever even think of coming back. I'll tell the kids and our friends that you've died and, for all intents and purposes, you will be dead to us. If that's what you want, I'll make it happen. No one will look for you. But what you can't do is THIS. You can't keep popping in and out of our lives whenever you feel like it! It's not fair."

"I-I know it isn't. I know you deserve better...I just...I can't-"

"Can't what? Be a decent human being to those who have shown you nothing but love and respect? Fine! Then go! Please, just go and get it over with. I, for one, cannot watch you walk away from us for the fourth time and just keep waiting and waiting and waiting for you to grow up. It's...it's too much. It's killing me. Don't you see that you're killing me?"

Damn. She hadn't even noticed the tears until they were already dripping down her jaw. Quickly, she wiped them away, chin held extra high for some semblance of outward strength even though his eyes were still avoiding her. How many times she had imagined this reunion? Thousands for sure. She had prepared herself to be warm, welcoming and accepting, always accepting, of whatever he chose to give them. But the exhaustion made her unbalanced and feeble, unable to pretend any more that she had the strength to put up with his constant indecision. It had to end somewhere. It had to end tonight. She had officially run out of patience.

"I'm serious," she asserted, taking one bold step closer. "Last chance get out of jail free card. No difficult kids, no nagging partner, no responsibilities, no life. It's an option. But you have to choose. You have to figure out what you want, and you have to do it now. No more waiting."

The demands were pressing, but simple, and if he decided that he rather not answer, then she would regard that as his official resignation from their family. As much as the very idea made her heart feel as it were being stretched into a thin-crust pizza dough, she knew she would get over it. Eventually. Before Cloud's interest, a male companion had never been part of her plans for the future anyway, and she had been through many more difficult losses that she had had no warning or control over. She would get over Cloud Strife. Or, more accurately, she knew she could survive Cloud Strife, if only barely. Anything was better than going through a month like this one again, desperately clutching to the strings of hope he had left with promises of his return. Better to just cut them all loose.

"You have to choose," she repeated after a minute of silence, during which she watched as every muscle in his body became tense. "Tell me, right now, what kind of life you want."

"What I want..." he scoffed then and shook his head, somehow finding humor in this most dire of conversations. "There's a big difference between what I want to do, and what I should do."

Tifa hated that she honestly didn't know which option was which. "Whatever makes you happy is what you should do," she instructed, her voice surprisingly solid.

"Happy..." he repeated, nodding his head. "I didn't- I don't think it's possible. For me." He quietly chuckled, this time somewhat maliciously and Tifa had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"You're no special case Cloud. Everyone has issues. Everyone feels guilty for something or other. The difference between you and them is that they get over it. We're all only human."

"That's just the problem though. I'm not, really."

"Not what?"

"...Human."

His eyes abruptly flicked up to meet hers and, for only a second, their usual menacing glow returned full force. But just as quickly as it arrived, it flickered and died out, taking whatever he had gained of confidence with it.

With yet another sigh, Cloud ran his fingers through his hair and sidestepped around her, heading toward to bed. As he sat down upon the mussed sheets, hands clasped in his lap, Tifa turned to face him. All her energy was concentrated on swallowing down a tirade that may very well lead to their eternal separation; an ending that was unacceptable if spurred only by sheer stubbornness. So she waited, fists clenched, for him to speak first.

"I'm not exactly..." he began, but faltered. Another deep breath, another attempt to summon what courage remained. "You've always known, always accepted, that I'm...different."

Tifa brought her long hair forward over her shoulder, beginning to re-braid it if only for a distraction. There was no point in saying anything. This time, he had to do the talking. He had to try, and try hard, to put them back together. To see if they could still fit together. If that was even his intention.

"Zack once hinted to me in one of his many speeches as to why SOLDIER wasn't worth it, that...mako, it-it changes you. Physically. In every way. Once you're injected, anything normal that may be natural to civilians is suddenly...complicated."

At this, Tifa's brow furrowed, titling her head as a prompt to continue.

But he couldn't. The words, try as he might, got stuck in his throat. So he pressed his palms into his eyes, groaning at his own pathetic insistence on being introverted. Tifa deserved so much better than this.

"If I were a better man, a stronger man, I wouldn't have come back here. I shouldn't have come back here. I should just-"

"No." When he looked up, she was suddenly there before him, bending with her hands on her knees, glaring at him with dark, furious eyes. "That is what a coward would do. Disappearing without a word, letting the children grow up without a proper father figure just because he's too scared to talk, to attempt fixing things...that's called a coward Cloud Strife."

Cloud began shaking his head. "I didn't think this through. I didn't think it would get to this. I wanted to stay, but I couldn't...I can't be near you and NOT...I-I wished we could go back. To how it was."

"This was YOUR choice," Tifa pointed out persistently, anger thankfully still overwhelming grief. "Why did you start this then? Why did you ask me to marry you? What did you think would happen?"

He snickered then, morosely, still refusing to meet her eyes. "I thought we'd continue exactly as we were, just without the fear of you ever replacing me, and solidifying the kids adoption. It was a delusional, band-aid solution."

"You never thought I'd want you. You never thought you'd need me."

"...Yes."

There was no point in telling him how stupid that conclusion was. They had reached this point now, and there was no way to go but force their way forward. No matter how treacherous and mucky the road was.

"Despite this, you came back," Tifa pointed out, hoping to give him reason to continue. "You came back because you knew, deep down, that it was truly the right thing to do. A brave, strong man, the kind that you are, would come back, whatever the problem, and figure it out."

"Figure it out..." he repeated, his tone mocking. "You make it sound so...simple."

"Whatever it is Cloud, I won't-I can't just give up. We can get through this. Whatever it takes. Together. Alright? Hey..." she lightly placed a finger under his chin, coaxing those pained eyes up into finally looking at her. He looked so broken, so worried, that she felt a sudden terror to discovering this secret, debating if only for a second the suggested plan of disappearing and she attempting to move the family onward. But it was quickly deemed to not, and to never be, an actual option. A damaged puzzle piece was always better than a missing or borrowed one in order to make the picture complete.

"You're not alone," she reminded him while lowering herself onto the floor, kneeling. "Not anymore."

She waited there, hands on his knees, for him to collect himself. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths, digesting her words and absorbing their truths.

Soon enough he knew, with absolutely certainty, there was no other choice but to reveal himself for what he was. No way to go but forward. Even if, as it was in his head, forward lead downward. Into the abyss.

"When I...kiss you..." he wet his lips nervously and averted his eyes to the bedspread, knowingly it would only get more embarrassing before it got easier. "I see...sparks. Literally. Synapses-charging, a form of fusion that creates energy inside my eyes and, I assume, the rest of me. I figured it was just...happiness. Normal 'new-relationship-syndrome' as Yuffie would say. It's always scared me, but I found reason to ignore it. It was never long and could be vented through training or playing with the kids or doing some deliveries. But...you mentioned my eyes, the glow, and...I knew then that it was mako related."

A careful sigh was released and he quickly glanced down at her, trying to remember and therefore better describe the feeling. "Soon it started building. Experiences stacking one on top of the other. Sometimes, recently, you'd just look at me and it would take over. A minute with you and I'd need three hours to cool down and feel normal again. And one night, when I stayed behind after you closed the bar, I knew that being with you, fully, might get rid of it. And I wanted that. More than you I just wanted to get those damn sparks out of my head.

"There was nothing loving about those feelings. I now know that it's a battle enhancement Shinra invented, one with a few design flaws as per usual. When my heart rate increases for any reason, I'm made stronger, more violent and I prioritize the need to expel the excess energy above all else. I felt I'd gladly rip you apart in exchange for a second of release. It's not normal. It's dangerous. Not only that, but the geostigma. Jenova's poison. It's still in me, still potentially contagious. Who knows what it would do to you if we were to be...close? But the sparks would come and I would stop caring. And I needed you...it's scary how much. I needed you more than anything. I tried to resist. I convinced myself that I could resist forever.

"But then," he chuckled with a tinge of frenzy, gesturing around the room. Referring to the night she had decided to take things into her own hands. "I followed you, you know? When you went shopping with Yuffie's tips. I saw you buy roses and candles and that blue dress, with the...buttons, all the way down and...and I knew I was doomed."

"You could have told me," Tifa interrupted, more angered than worried by the story. "We could have talked about it, come up with a solution. A compromise."

"I didn't want to talk about Tifa," he growled in response. "And there was no compromise. You push, sometimes. And though I know it's usually for my own good, I couldn't take it in this case. The whole reason we're together, the reason I liked us together, is because I can pretend to be normal for a while. And bringing this up, discussing the ways in which my body can't work the way you wanted it to...I couldn't. I just...couldn't."

As if by their own prerogative, Tifa's hands yanked themselves away from his knees as quickly as if they'd been burnt. And maybe they had, in a way. Here she had thought he had long since come to terms with the stigma and poisoning, but he had been continually wrestling with it behind her back this entire time. She felt...betrayed in a sense. As if their entire relationship up until this point had been a staged lie. As if their being together had nothing to do with love, but was just a mere prop, an accessory, to help him find temporary relief from his demons. By day he played as part of the happy family, by night he revealed his true self; a monster itching for release from this prison. One that had finally found escape, only to have his electric leash drag him back in, kicking and screaming.

"I know what you're thinking," he interrupted her gruesome thought process, hands clenched into the comforter. "But don't. Being with you, the nights we spent together at the beginning, before it became untamable...I never felt so..."

"Normal?" Tifa suggested in a choked whisper.

"Home." Cloud finished instead.

They sat there together in silence for a long while, slowly digesting the facts, the situation, their feelings. Throughout this process one final fact remained unresolved...what happens now?

"I won't...pressure you anymore," Tifa whispered, even though the suggestion broke her heart. They had been so close...so tantalizingly close to perfect bliss. But she knew that having Cloud around, even as just a friend once more, was a much better alternative than his absence. "We can...go back. To how it was before."

"Can we?" Cloud asked, sounding equally pained by the notion.

Tifa could only shrug. "I see no other choice but to try. I-I love you Cloud. And if that's what you need, as close to a normal life as you can get, then...then I'll do anything. Anything to make you hap-"

She was interrupted by movement out of the upper corner of her eye; him, falling from the bed with arms wide open. He knelt before her and brought her into his arms with such ferocity that she feared for a moment that it was the 'sparks' taking over. But then his head fell onto her shoulder, his hands were felt gently brushing through her hair, and his back shuddered with emotion.

"We can't go back," he whispered to her, his voice more strained than she had ever heard it. It was strange to hear him sounding so fragile, as if on the brink of tears, and she knew better than to do anything more than sit there and listen. "I knew that was never an option. It would kill me to go back to how it was. So I left. Not to get away, but to find answers."

"Wha-what do you mean?" Tifa's breath stuck into her throat when he didn't respond. "Cloud...where have you been?"

The shuddering got worse and Tifa instinctively held on to him tighter, hoping to act as an emotional anchor. "Testing facilities for the stigma and mako survivors." He spat the words out, as if they were torture devices. And to him, she knew, they may as well have been. "There's a practice in Kalm, one in Mideel. The largest one is in Wutai, far from WRO restrictions on the subject. I knew they existed somewhere, but I had avoided them. I didn't want to know the details of what was wrong with me. I didn't want to participate in their research as another subject. But now I had to. I had to make sure I was safe. For all of you."

"Cloud..." Tighter still she held him as tears sprung into her own eyes. It wasn't enough. She knew it would never be enough to erase the horror of what he must have been through. Needles and shock treatments and blood and skin samples and endurance and skill tests. Giving yourself, your body and your trust, to strangers who would sooner gut you, just to poke around your insides, than actually help. And all of this for her. "I-I'm so sorry...Gaia...I'm sorry."

The new scar on his cheek. She recognized it now as the faultless slice of a surgical laser. Maybe they were testing how fast he healed, maybe they had locked him in a room where such things popped out of the walls, just to marvel at his reflexes. Either way, she knew it was sourced from a nightmare. Made real by his own free will, just in case there was a chance it could improve things.

"I don't...want to talk about my time there..." he eventually muttered. And Tifa adamantly nodded in response. Not only did he deserve his privacy in this case, but she honestly didn't want to know. "But...just so you know...It...helped."

"Helped?"

"A little. Yes." He pulled away then, just enough so that they were face to face. His hands rose on either side of neck as her forehead leaned against hers. A long sniff to absorb the difficult memories, and he was ready to explain. "I'm on an experimental drug, developed specifically for the few people with my condition as, primarily, a way to tame their strength. It dulls the senses, slows me down both mentally and physically so that I produce less energy. It's...odd. But I'm handling it well, apparently. This is the first time in weeks I've felt...safe around you."

Tifa smiled, though with difficulty. "Good. I guess..." she attempted to console. But the terrifying fact remained that he was currently being used as a guinea pig. Fears that she couldn't help but voice. Doctors, labs and tests, especially those that dealt with mako, were notorious for having devious intentions through their apparent research. "But...there's side effects, right? There must be."

"Yes," Cloud admitted readily. "For the first week I was constantly throwing up, falling down, shaking and sweating. I felt as if every cell in my body was being pinched. They told me that it was normal, just the immune system fighting against an apparent invasion. They said it would go away. And it did."

Tifa nodded through a wince. Cloud had such a high tolerance for pain, that she could only imagine how excruciating it must have been to spur such reactions.

"What about long term?" she couldn't help but push. "What if it happens again? What if this is killing you instead of just 'taming' you?"

"They showed me the file of an ex-SOLDIER who has been taking the meds for three years. He still comes in for tests every few months, and he's been stable. He's managed to open a weapons shop on the road to Costa Del Sol and maintain a healthy relationship. His wife, she comes with him. She's clear of any signs of infection too, so far."

"What if they're lying to you? What if these drugs are a trigger for some later war attempt? What if their real goal is to get rid the world of the mako-infected population? What if-"

"It doesn't matter Tifa," he interrupted, the hands on her neck grasping a little more tightly. "You taught me that. We can't keep worrying about what might happen, right? I mean, obviously, I worry about it. But as long as we do everything we can do, as long as we're as careful and responsible as we can be...then..."

He sighed, a deep, staggering one. And then he kissed her. Softly. Respectfully. Just to prove that the feeling was worth it. Before asking the question that may very well break the deal.

"With the SOLDIER couple though, it's only a matter of time. The odds...twelve percent chance that she'll catch it anyway. That she'll become a puppet, a shell, that can't control her own strength and is a danger to everyone she loves. They've been lucky so far. But that wasn't enough of a reason for me to come back here..."

Tifa gulped. She could sense what was coming, even before he asked it. It scared her at first - actually, who was she kidding - the concept would continue to terrify her until the end. But his kiss has served its purpose. It proved that they simply had to do everything they could do to make this work. "What do you want me to do?" she asked with a shuddering breath.

Cloud smiled. Albeit morosely. She had always been able to read him so well. "There's a new supplement they're testing. To build a natural immunity to the poison."

"Uh-huh...Side effects?"

"Nausea. Vomiting. Liver bleeding. Stomach ulcers. Migraines. Infertility. Basically anything and everything, the antibodies are so unstable. And even then, there's no guarantee you won't contract it. And I don't need to list to you the horrors of that conclusion."

It was the ugliest of truths, but he needed her to know it. If she decided now that it wasn't worth it, if only for the kids' sake, he could live with that. At least there wouldn't be any regret on his end.

"Hmm," Tifa smacked her lips together, considering. "Well, you know already that my own accident led to infertility. You got over your illness within a week, proving that people with healthy immune systems will probably have brief and temporary negative effects. You haven't had an outbreak of geostigma in nearly a year and haven't been exposed directly to mako in seven. There has been no sign of relapse in any of the children who were treated in the church lake, so it is safe to assume that a vast majority of the cells have cleared your system. That would mean that, if I do this, the chances of you transferring, me accepting and duplicating enough to affect my life in any way would be incredibly low, right?"

Cloud nodded, a bit surprised by her easy, medical approach to the subject. "Yes. But that doesn't mean-"

"They must have given you some statistics? You were there for nearly a month."

"Yes. A point six percent chance. Still, I wouldn't blame you if-"

"Cloud," Hands rose to cup his cheeks, forcing him to look up at her when his eyes began to wander away again in shame. "There's a point six percent chance that I will be hit by lightning. A point six percent chance that Barrett will walk in the door wearing a dress. A point six percent chance that the entire city gets raided and bombed tomorrow. But there is a one hundred percent certainty that if we, right now, don't do anything and everything in our reasonable power to do in order to make this work, then we will regret it for the rest of our lives." She kissed him again then, quickly. Again, to remind them both of the amazing results should this succeed. "So...I'll do it. If you trust these people, I can too. I don't want us to be afraid anymore."

"We could just agree to not-"

Tifa slapped a hand to his mouth to interrupt, furiously shaking her head. "If this is the only thing stopping us, then no. I don't want another incomplete relationship with you. And I'm pretty sure you don't want that either." He, reluctantly, nodded. "It's time to stop fighting it. Okay? We'll be careful, like we are with everything. We can't let what might happen dictate our every action. It's no way to live. Agreed?"

Again, a nod, inspiring her to give him a nervous smirk while dropping her hand from his mouth, skimming fingers over his lips as she did so. It was impossible to tell who started it, but soon they were kissing again. Perhaps to celebrate their new, mutual foray into the uncertain future, but most probably because they had since had their boundaries weakened. Tifa no longer questioned his desire of her, and Cloud no longer worried about being pushed too far by his abnormal cell-structure. At that moment, even though Tifa's acceptance of the supplements would greatly reduce the risk, there was still only a twelve percent chance. And, in that moment, twelve percent seemed so very...abstract.

Gloved hands slapped themselves to her shoulders and squeezed, nails felt digging into her skin even through the leather as he pulled her body closer. And when that wasn't enough, for the first time she felt his mouth open against hers, coaxing her to do the same, allowing him to fully explore and taste her.

It was...strange. To say the least. But definitely not in a bad way. As proven when she let out an involuntary little moan; a sound she had never heard herself make. As if on her cue, Cloud's hands then moved, one onto the small of her back just above the band of her sweatpants, underneath where her tank top had ridden up and the other to the back of her head, pushing her closer, deeper. They was beginning to find it hard to breath, but neither seemed to care.

She was so damn soft, yet he knew how easily she could pin him, especially due to his now limited strength. The idea excited him more than should be considered normal and he found himself unexpectedly inhibited. The secrets were out, the problems (for the most part) resolved and he found himself wanting her for no other reason than because he was a man, and she was a beautiful woman. One that he happened to consider as his best friend. Someone he could trust to completely bare himself to, all flaws on display, and still be measured as the best of the batch.

The fact the she had chosen him, despite all his issues, despite years of pushing her away...someone still willing to give that much of herself to him after all of that run-around was so -for lack of a better word - hot. So he continued kissing her, exploring her. Relishing that he could, that she was not only letting him, but encouraging him to.

Perhaps this was what they needed. An act of simultaneous apology, forgiveness, reassurance and, not to mention, stress release. It would have been so easy. He could envision the exact steps that this night could lead to. He could practically already feel how good it would be to just lose himself inside her and let the terrors of the last month drain away, making it all worth it.

The epitome of temptation.

But not yet...

"Tifa...stop..." he muttered, barely audible over heavy breathing, creaking floor boards, and lips that were otherwise preoccupied. Not surprisingly, she didn't hear it. Just continued to kiss him, press herself against him, continuing to dismantle any concept he may have once had of patience.

Life was too short.

Wasn't it?

But no shorter than it had to be...

"STOP." He sprang to his feet then and backed himself into a far corner of the room. The reaction may have been a tad exaggerated, but it was all he could do to not risk being drawn in again. Those pills he was on...maybe they were making him a little TOO human. Resisting had never before been this excruciating.

From her spot on the floor, Tifa shakily wiped her lips, also wondering what had come over her. "How soon can you get me those supplements?" she asked with a heavy breath.

Cloud already had his phone in his hand, dialing the research facility.


As the sun peaked over the horizon, Tifa and Cloud found themselves in the kitchen, sharing a pot of coffee from opposite ends of the table.

He had since showered, shaved and dressed himself in a simple grey t-shirt with matching drawstring pants, feeling fresh, comfortable and calm. At home for the first time in what felt like ages.

Tifa brought him up to speed on all the goings on in Edge. How the school was nearly completed and would be ready to accept students in the Fall. How Yuffie's help at the bar had nearly octupled profits. How she had accidentally botched the adoption interview, but had since appealed to the committee that she had been under exceptional stress, and they had yet to hear the final decision. How the WRO suspected terrorist activities from some unknown faction of the old Shinra Company, and Reeve had warned her to keep on her toes.

Cloud accepted this news with a gentle nod, wholeheartedly agreeing that they should look to purchase some new land outside of the city and perhaps, slowly, build a franchise 7th Heaven along with a new, larger house. Tifa showed off the newspaper clipping she had collected advertising such lots, and they made plans for visits later on in the week.

They had kissed again, by accident, after they had both reached for the pot and their fingers inadvertently brushed. It had been long and deep and intense, but the new setting encouraged them to keep it, relatively, innocent. At least from what could be seen above the table top.

They were on their fourth cup, purposefully keeping their distance while going over some financing issues, when the kitchen door opened.

There stood Marlene, her eyes glassy and wide, enveloped by her favorite furry, pink bathrobe. The knuckles of her hand, still grasping the door knob, were practically white and her lips lightly parted. Tifa knew the expression well. But this, he, was no dream.

"Hi." Cloud said, turning his chair around to face the entranceway.

Marlene's lips snapped shut, eyes shifting toward Tifa for some hint as to how she should react. But her mother figure was giving no instructions. Despite his departure having been revealed as having good reason, it didn't change the fact that he had left them. Again. Without even saying goodbye. Whether the girl wanted to scream or hit or laugh or cry or simply turn around and leave, that was her own prerogative. He would have to deal with whatever course she chose.

Luckily, Marlene had always been a cheerleader for team Strife. As long as he pulled it together for the finale, an entire season of fumbles would forever be forgiven.

So she ran, bunny slippers being kicked into the air in her wake, and then she was hugging him. As tightly as her tiny arms would allows, fingers digging into his neck. Tifa watched Cloud's eyes press firmly shut as he returned the gesture, pulling the little girl so close that her feet left the floor.

"Happy Birthday Marlene," he whispered, pressing a kiss into the crown of her hair before leaning his cheek against it. And Marlene, never having been one to attempt suppressing emotions, promptly broke out into joyful tears.

It was the best gift she could have asked for.

Author's Note: Whoa. Long-ass chapter people and for that I am sorry. It was just such an awkward conversation to write that I needed to keep adding tangents, explanations, pauses and arguments in order to get it out right. Definitely one of the most frustrating things I've ever had to invent in words, and definitely the most I've ever had to cut, paste and reorganize paragraphs within one document. It's still not my version of perfect but I needed to move on!

On a personal note with this chapter's "mature" content, though I know Final Fantasy is a completely different world with (annoyingly) very few sexual references, I find many fics avoid the very real issues that are attributed to sex, most of them physical. I remember once discussing with a friend who was born HIV positive how awkward it was to bring up the disease with boyfriends, more than one already having decided that it wasn't worth the risk and therefore dumping her. It's a...strange situation, one that I can't even imagine having to go through. But it is a good test of love if someone is willing to be and stay with you through all that, and as long as you are careful and smart about it, you have to coast forward on the mere hope that things will end up okay in the end.

Anyway, didn't mean to get all preachy on people, but I do so enjoy mirroring real life issues into the realm of Final Fantasy. It makes the character more human to me. Cloud's sickness (also coincidentally his source of power), the reason he left them all in the first place, still isn't completely gone and I assume would continue to harangue him in this imaginary future. At the end of ACC, Aerith had restored just enough of his confidence to finally let them all breach his emotional wall. But to get close as two human beings can possibly get, both mentally and physically, that will require a little more preparation.

Till next chapter. Thanks for all the reviews! (seriously, if it wasn't for their constant stream, this chapter, due to its difficulty, probably would have taken me months of rewrites).

Love you all.