A/N: I realize it's been a long time since I updated this, but I hope someone's still reading! I've been getting a bit discouraged lately. Big hugs to Denebola Leo for helping me get back on track and picking apart the chapter with me.


Chapter 12: Hookers and Technology

Cloud walked quickly along the dark alleys, his head ducked low. If it made him appear unalert, if someone mistook him for easy prey, it only gave him an excuse to give in to his darker urges. He told himself that he would never sink to the level of attacking an innocent, but the occasional necessary self-defense seemed to quiet the clamoring voice in his head, at least for a while.

Luckily, this part of town was rife with the less-than-innocent. The dirt passages between buildings were too narrow to be considered roads, and the cramped, haphazardly stacked residences too run down to be considered anything but shacks. Homemade balconies jutted out at crazy angles, and a multitude of ropes strung across the alley, weighed down with laundry, created shadows at every level. Darkness lurked even on the sunniest days, and a mishmash of music blared from dozens of windows, creating an ideal refuge for illegal activities.

Cloud generally ignored the drugged-out people sprawled along the alley, as long as they seemed harmless. After all, he understood addiction and withdrawal better than most. It was only when someone turned to violence to satisfy their cravings that he allowed himself to retaliate, and even then, he was controlled.

Unfortunately, he'd had no such openings that evening, and he was tense and irritable. The last thing he expected was to stumble across a prostitute in this destitute neighborhood. No one had enough money to make it worth their while.

"Hey, sexy. Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Low and smooth as silk, her voice only grated on his raw nerves. She had latched on to his arm and hurried along beside him, her heels crunching loudly in the dirt.

"Not interested," he said without glancing up.

"You haven't even heard my proposition," she purred coyly.

He shook his arm, trying to loosen her grip, but she only clung on more tightly. He looked up in annoyance. "I said I'm not interested," he said more loudly. "Leave me alone."

She looked vaguely familiar. She was probably considered pretty by most men's standards, but not to Cloud. Her make-up was dramatic and heavy, and with Cloud's enhanced vision, it only looked fake and desperate. Dark red hair swirled around her shoulders, brushing gently against the thin halter strap holding the tiny green dress to her body.

"Please just play along for a minute," she whispered frantically, leaning into him. "I need to talk to you in private."

He let out a breath through his nose. He wanted to say no. He wanted to say that he didn't care what she had to say, but he couldn't pretend not to hear the desperation in her voice. As far removed as he felt from the man who used to be Cloud Strife, he still had a weakness for damsels in distress. "Fine," he sighed. "In here." He made a sharp turn into an alley as they passed, scanning it quickly for signs of life. There was nothing but a few rats scuttling under a pile of rotting trash. "One minute," he said flatly, turning to face the woman.

Up close and personal, he finally recognized her. She was the woman who had rebuffed his efforts to help her when she'd been pinned against the dumpster. He crossed his arms and frowned, waiting impatiently for her to begin.

She stood close and spoke quietly. "I…I need your help," she stammered, looking up at him.

"You need my help," he repeated. "What makes you think I can help you? Or even that I would?"

"You tried to help me once," she said.

"My mistake," Cloud said coldly. "Like you said, you didn't want or need it."

"I know, I know," she hissed desperately. "I didn't know how bad things would get! But I saw it in your eyes. You're a good man, even if you try to pretend you're not."

Inside his head, a cold laugh echoed. 'Certainly fooled her, didn't you?'

Cloud clenched his jaw and pushed past her, toward the mouth of the alley. "You're wrong. I'm not, and I can't help you."

"Please!" she called after him. "Jo's only thirteen!" Cloud stopped, and the woman rushed on, talking to his back. "I don't deserve your help, I know that. I wouldn't ask if it was for me. I made my own messes. But Jo's just a kid that got in over her head with the Brothers."

Slowly, Cloud turned back to her. "The Brothers?" He'd heard the name before, in reverent whispers in seedy bars. They seemed to have their fingers in everything shady in that town, and people who crossed them had a way of disappearing.

The woman's eyes flickered to the sides. "We can't talk here. It's not safe, and I've said too much already. Do you have a place we can go?"

Cloud glanced around them. There were a few vagrants within hearing distance, although he doubted they cared or even understood what they were talking about. "Fine. I have a place just down the road," he said finally. "For your sake, this better not be some kind of trick."

"I swear to all the gods it's not," she said solemnly. Her sincere gaze never faltered, so he gestured for her to follow and led her quickly down the dirt passage.

'Well, well. About time you bring a woman home again. This one seems ready and willing.'

"That's not what's happening," Cloud muttered angrily.

"What?" The woman asked, startled.

Cloud shook his head. "Nothing. Talking to myself."

"Oh." She fell silent for another moment. "I'm Deanna," she offered.

Cloud glanced over at her. "Jacob," he said shortly.

She smiled. Despite her stained teeth, it was a nice smile, and he softened a bit.

'Thaaaat's it, love. She can make you feel good. There's no need to punish yourself.'

Cloud scowled and looked straight ahead, refusing to answer this time.

They reached the slightly lopsided, dilapidated building that Cloud called home. The walls were made of loose boards, held together with scrap nails and glue. A rickety metal staircase wrapped around the building, and he started up the rusted stairs. The place he rented was at the top, above two other abodes.

After unlocking the rusty padlock securing the door, he pushed it open with his shoulder. It always stuck a bit, and it needed a little extra encouragement to open. Feeling along the wall, he found the switch and flipped it on. The single bulb was dim, and electricity wasn't always reliable, but thankfully it flickered on with only a slight delay.

Deanna followed him through the door and closed it behind her, glancing around the room. The place wasn't much to look at. Other than the toilet, which was sectioned off with a curtain in the opposite corner of the door, it was just one large room.

To the left of the door was a kitchen area with a tiny fridge, and a small stovetop that could be plugged in when the electricity was working. A small stained sink sat in the far corner. Water could be pulled up from with some effort, and since Cloud was practically immune to illness, it was good enough for him to drink.

Directly in front of the door was a small round table and a couple of rickety chairs, and beyond that was the squeaky bed. The three walls had rough openings cut into them for windows.

The table held several thick-bound books, which Cloud quickly swept off the table and tucked into a duffel bag in the corner. He had been spending a lot of time in the dusty stacks of the library, trying to find information that might help him rid himself of his unwanted guest. He returned to Deanna and crossed his arms. "Ok, we're here. It's safe. Talk."

Deanna frowned slightly. "Talk? You're not gonna offer me a seat or a drink or anything?" She propped her hands on her hips. "Some gentleman you are."

Cloud scoffed. "I'm being lectured by a prostitute about manners?"

Deanna stood up straighter, which looked almost comical with her tiny frame. Her fierce glare, however, was nothing short of intimidating. "You shouldn't judge people by what they do to survive, Jacob. Are you doing what you always wanted? Your dream job?" she asked snarkily, glancing around the sad apartment. "Tell me, how do you get by? Selling drugs? Kidnapping children?"

Her last comment felt like a slap to the face. "Of course not!" he said defensively. "I…well, I do day labor when I can get it. Usually I work down at the docks, unloading ships or hauling crates. It's honest work."

"Ha!" she goaded. "Do you think a woman can get that kind of work?"

With her tiny, five foot nothing frame, Cloud doubted she could carry groceries, much less haul around crates that probably weighed more than she did. "Maybe not that, but…"

"Listen, Jacob. This is no one's first choice for a job. It's what you do when you're desperate, when you've gotta eat and your body's not suited for anything else. I tried so hard to save Jo from this, but…" her voice cracked, and her shoulders slumped. "She was just a kid. But when you're in need and you got a pretty face, someone's gonna notice. Someone's gonna use you."

Cloud uncrossed his arms and let them drop to his sides, thinking of a striking young beauty used by her own mother. 'Her currency isn't worth as much as it used to be…' He sighed and rubbed his face, then walked to the fridge and pulled out a couple bottles of beer. They were at least moderately cold. He held one out to Deanna, who accepted it with a small smile. "Have a seat," he said wearily. "Tell me about Jo."


Tifa's footsteps echoed on the dented wooden floor of Seventh Heaven. She stared at the rows and rows of bottles behind the counter. She examined the taps, those familiar names in her own cramped writing. She looked over the scrubbed tables and chairs, thinking how much of her time and energy had been invested there lately.

She loved this place. Busy nights were the best, where customers called to her from all corners of the bar, needing a refill or some dinner or an arm-wrestling judge. As her family drifted away, one by one, she had thrown herself into the business, only calling in Yuffie and Niko when she had a class to teach, then dismissing them as soon as she finished. She found new ways of advertising – sales, contests, anything to fill the room. Business boomed like never before.

But it was nothing like the vision she had for Seventh Heaven. She had built a place that was cozy. Safe. Warm. It was a place for people to gather, to relax and forget their problems for a little while. Tifa wasn't just a bartender; she was a symbol. She represented hope for the future. With the shattered pieces of their past, they had built something new. Everyone had lost something, but not everything was lost.

But now, it was nothing more than a distraction. Her regulars became less regular, while a younger, rowdier crowd filled the room. Tifa would collapse into bed every night when she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open anymore. Her thoughts never had time to wander. Her dreams stayed far away, or perhaps she just slept too deeply to remember them. For the first time in years, she had even stopped meditating. Self-reflection was for the strong, and she no longer believed that she was.

She was a coward.

'You won't even leave your comfy little bar to help the people you claim to love.'

Even though it had come from the mouth of an angry teen, those words had hit Tifa hard. Cloud had accused her of something similar, hadn't he? Who had she become? Had she gotten so enshrined in her comfort zone that she waited for someone else to solve her problems? To take care of her own family?

That ends now, she thought grimly.

There was a lot to be done, but first, she needed to do the one thing she had been avoiding. She needed to talk to Aerith.

After making sure all the doors were locked, she headed to the training room. Looking at the assembled punching bags, thai pads, and body shields made her sad. They had never fully converted it into a studio, although they had accumulated enough equipment that it almost looked like one. But it seemed that chapter of her life was over now. She turned her back to the equipment and let out a heavy sigh. There would be time to think about that later.

Tifa sat down in the center of the floor, crossing her legs in front of herself and closing her eyes. With no chance of being disturbed, she let herself go fully into that place between sleeping and waking.

It was surprisingly quick. Aerith sat in her field of flowers, staring straight at Tifa. "It's been a long time," she said softly.

Tifa sat down across from her friend and bowed her head. "I know. I'm sorry. I've been avoiding you." At the very least, she expected a lecture. She knew it was difficult for Aerith to get to her, and she'd purposely been making it harder, and that wasn't even the least of her sins. "I couldn't do what you said," she confessed quietly. "I know you told me to be there for him, but he had to get away from Midgar. He couldn't be near those kids."

"You're right," Aerith said.

Tifa looked up in surprise. "I am?"

"Mhm," she said gravely. "Jenova needs to be away from them. But he still needs you, Tifa. More than ever."

"But I call him all the time! He seems fine…"

"Yes, and Cloud is so transparent about what he's going through," Aerith said, raising an eyebrow.

Tifa shook her head miserably. "What was I supposed to do? I have responsibilities here! I have to—"

A familiar voice drifted over the ether. "Stop making excuses, Tifa! Cloud's gone and Denzel's gone, and hey look, now I'm in here so you don't have to take care of me either! So there's nothing stopping you from actually trying."

It hurt just as much to hear it the second time. Tifa bowed her head, her eyes blurring with tears. "I know what you said, Aerith, but you're wrong. I'm not strong enough. I can't do this. I can't save Cloud. I can't bring Denzel home. I can't even raise Marlene right."

Before she knew what had happened, she was being pulled into soft arms that felt as solid and real as anything. "Oh Tifa," Aerith sighed, stroking her hair gently. "You take so much on yourself." Tifa resisted at first, but eventually let her head be pulled down onto a pink shoulder. "You don't have to be strong for me," Aerith whispered.

It started with a quiver. A single drop landed on a pink lap, then another, and then another. They came down like rain, months of fear and worry and disappointment overflowing, her heart hurting from it all. Aerith held her close, saying nothing, just gently petting her hair while Tifa shuddered and sobbed in her arms.

When the tears finally slowed, Tifa sat up and wiped under her eyes. "I'm sorry, Aer, I didn't mean to—"

"You don't have to apologize," Aerith said kindly. "Crying is a natural function with a purpose." Tifa looked at her skeptically. "How do you feel?" Aerith prompted.

"I feel…better," she said in wonder. "I mean, I'm not ok with the mistakes I made, but…they happened." She nodded to herself. "I need to move on. Figure out what to do next." She met Aerith's eyes. "What have you found out since we talked last? Is there any other way to get rid of Jenova?"

The flower girl's shoulders slumped, and she looked away. "Everything…points to his death…being the only way to kill her for good. She doesn't need a host to survive, but she can't affect this world without one. If she can be trapped within a body, she would be powerless."

"So his only use to the planet now is as a corpse?" Tifa asked bitterly. "That is his reward for everything he's done for her? You know what? Screw the planet," she spat, standing up in the flowers. "She doesn't care about his life! Of course that's the only thing she can tell you! We'll figure it out ourselves. We don't need her guidance, or yours, if you're just going to accept her answer."

"Tifa, I—"

But Tifa was already pulling back, bringing herself back to consciousness. She opened her eyes to the studio, breathing heavily, still burning with anger.

"We'll figure it out ourselves."


Denzel caught up with Alicia as they walked back to the main mansion. She was walking fast, but Denzel's longer strides easily kept up with her. Reno trailed behind them, looking like he just happened to be moving in the same direction.

"Alicia. What were you going to tell me back there?"

Alicia looked up at him and slowed her walk slightly. "Just that…I'm really sorry. About what happened with Cloud. I wasn't thinking about how it would affect you. I just felt like I needed to be closer."

The flare of anger that he expected now felt like a dulled sorrow. It was a sorrow of missed opportunities, of paths untaken, but no longer the sting of betrayal. "I understand," Denzel said slowly. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"But he never even came to visit you, Denzel," she said morosely.

Denzel sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "That has nothing to do with you. He was mad that I came here. I told that detective that I needed to be locked up after the day that I…after we fought in the kitchen." He felt a surge of guilt at the memory. "I could've…I would have hurt you if Lexi hadn't been there to stop me. I was afraid that I couldn't control my temper. Cloud tried so hard to keep me out of here, and I just volunteered myself." He looked down at the ground. "So…it's my fault that he won't talk to me anymore."

Alicia reached over and intertwined her fingers in his. He didn't feel the need to pull away this time. He was just happy for the comfort. "He'll come around," Alicia said softly. "I know he won't stay mad."

Denzel shrugged. "I guess I won't know until we get out, now. They're not allowed to visit anymore." After their last conversation, when Cloud had told Denzel to stay away from him, he had never set foot in Hubble House again. Tifa and Marlene had come to see him when they still had visitors' days, but he didn't ask about Cloud. He didn't need them to confirm what he already knew: Cloud was still angry with him. If he wasn't, he would have shown up himself.

He looked over at Alicia. "Do you miss seeing your mom? She came to visit you on Family Day, didn't she?"

Alicia laughed dryly. "Once. She came to tell me that I ruined her life, and—" She stopped speaking abruptly.

Denzel's brow furrowed. "That's horrible! Why would she say that? Just because you got put in here? It wasn't your fault!"

"No, it's…never mind, Denzel. I don't want to talk about this." Her voice switched to her cheerful default. "What workgroup are you in tonight?"

"Don't do that," Denzel said. He stopped walking and turned to face her. Their escort must have finally decided they could make it back to the house alone, because he had disappeared. "You always avoid talking about anything serious or sad."

"I like to have fun," she said, a mischievous smile surfacing. "Why bother talking about that stuff? We always had fun, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we had fun, but I feel like I hardly even know you. I know that you lived with your mom and her boyfriend in a big house with a pool, and that he was a great guy who spoiled you both rotten, but that's it. It's like you won't let me in. I've never seen the real you."

The smile faded. "This is the real me, Denzel. I just don't like to talk about bad stuff."

"Maybe you should sometimes," he said softly. "It helps, you know. It helps to know that someone understands you."

Alicia shook her head and started walking again. Denzel kept pace with her, studying her tense features in profile. He walked beside her in silence for several minutes, but she didn't offer up any information. Finally, he took a stab in the dark. "Your mom's boyfriend wasn't such a great guy, was he?"

Alicia's reaction was subtle, but it was there. She started blinking faster and her jaw tightened. Finally, staring straight ahead, she spoke. "Something…happened…before I came here. Ricky left town. She only found out he wasn't coming home when the bank kicked her out of the house. She just came to tell me that I ruined her life and that she was practically a prostitute now." She snorted when Denzel looked at her in alarm. "She always liked to be dramatic. I'm sure she wasn't being literal." She looked away and mumbled, "Although that's pretty much what she always was anyway."

They had reached the main house by then, but Denzel didn't want her to stop talking. She had finally started to open up, and he wasn't sure if she would ever do it again. "I'm not really hungry. You want to skip dinner and come up to my room? My roommates should all have gone down to the dining room already."

Alicia raised an eyebrow. "Your…empty…room?

Denzel nodded solemnly. "I want to hear the rest of it," he said softly.

Alicia bit her lip, then came to a decision. "Ok. Let's go."

Out of nowhere, the redhead guard appeared. "Why aren't you inside yet? Damn, I didn't really think you needed me to hold your hands the whole way."

Denzel sighed, reluctantly starting up the steps.

"Not you, princess. We need to talk." The guard grabbed Alicia's arm and held her back.

Denzel's protective instincts flared to life, and he turned around with a snarl. "Get your hands off of her."

The guard didn't release her. He didn't seem to react much at all, besides a slight twitch of his eyebrow. "Excuse me?" he said coolly.

Denzel had to remind himself that this was an authority figure, and he was a teenager – an unarmed teenager. He walked closer and tried to sound reasonable. "I mean—it's dinner time. We'll get in trouble if we don't show up."

The guard chuckled. "You didn't seem too worried about that a minute ago." He shifted subtly and Alicia jumped forward suddenly, pulling out of his grasp.

"Denzel, it's ok!" she blurted. "I do need to talk to Reno." He eyed her uncertainly. "Really. I'll be in there in just a bit."

Denzel tried to rein in his protective impulses. If she was going with him of her own free will, there wasn't much he could say, but he didn't trust that guard. He looked over her shoulder at the redhead behind her. He still looked completely relaxed, leaning back on his heels, resting that strange rod he always carried against his shoulder. Alicia smiled at Denzel reassuringly. "Save me a seat, ok?"

Denzel nodded slowly and turned to walk inside. He didn't look back, but he didn't let the door close completely behind him. As they walked away, he caught the first bit of their conversation. "Don't you dare zap him with that thing," Alicia snapped.

"Aww come on, princess. Wouldn't it be fun to see him dance? You could rip off his shirt and pretend to give him CPR."

"I'm serious, Reno. You'd better not touch a hair on his head."

"S'long as he don't give me a reason to," Reno replied lazily.

Their words faded after that. Denzel counted the seconds until they were far enough away, then he eased the door open a bit and peered through the crack. They were just rounding the corner of the building. As soon as they were out of sight, Denzel went back outside and crept to the corner where they'd disappeared. He poked his head around the corner just in time to see that heavy metal door on the side of the house closing. He'd never seen that door being used before; he'd always assumed it was a maintenance entrance or something. Checking to make sure the coast was clear, Denzel ran along the side of the house.

He pressed his ear against the door, hoping he could hear through it, but there was dead silence. Turning the handle slowly, quietly, it moved only a few centimeters in either direction. There didn't even seem to be any kind of keyhole on the outside. He turned it harder, throwing caution to the wind. It was definitely locked. With a heavy sigh, he gave up and leaned against the wall. This wasn't some stupid rescue mission. He was acting like a jealous boyfriend. Alicia obviously didn't have a problem with older men, so it wasn't as if she were being coerced into anything. She said she needed to talk to him, and whether they were just talking or not, it wasn't his place to question it.


They talked for hours.

Jo's story was a sad one, starting with her father kicking her out when she was twelve. It seemed beyond cruel to Cloud. There were so many orphans already, so many children deprived of their parents by fate. Why would they willingly give up their child? Why would they toss them to the cold, hard streets to fend for themselves?

Deanna had found her shortly after, digging through a garbage bin outside of a gated community in the affluent part of the city. She was dirty and far too thin, with straggly black hair that had once been beautiful. But there wasn't much Deanna could provide herself, and soon enough, little Jo had caught the eye of Deanna's "manager" Kade.

"I fought so hard to keep her out of this life, but she insisted. She wanted to do something to help us. And Kade had a client who was looking for a girl just like her." Deanna took a swig of her beer and set it back down on the table, hard. "When she turned thirteen, Kade decided she was old enough. There was nothing I could do."

Cloud felt a surge of anger at the man he'd met in the alley. If he had known back then what kind of scum the man was, maybe he would have just taken care of him then and there.

'I told you so.'

Cloud sighed in frustration. Jenova had been shockingly quiet for most of their conversation. He could actually think for a change. He pushed her forcefully to the back of his mind. "So why did you come to me? What made you think I would be able to help?"

Deanna gestured to his sword. "Do you know how to use those? Like, really use them?"

Cloud just nodded.

"What about a gun?"

"I don't like them. Why?"

Deanna hesitated. "Well…from what I've heard about the Brothers, they have a lot of firepower."

"So what?" Cloud said. "It sounds like Kade is your problem, not them."

She looked down at her lap, troubled. "There's more to the story, Jacob."

Cloud leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Ok, tell me."

Deanna nodded and rolled her beer bottle between her palms. "When Kade told me he knew someone who would be interested in her, I told him no, she didn't work for him and he couldn't make her do anything. He said it was the Brothers, and he had to keep them happy. I said he could do whatever bargaining he needed to with me, but Jo was off limits." She frowned and stared into the dark bottle. "But that girl's got a mind of her own. I don't know what Kade said to her – prob'ly convinced her that she had to do it for me. Jo and me got into it, a big fighting, screaming match, and she told me I couldn't stop her."

Deanna finished the last of her beer and set it on the table with a sigh. "So she went. Stormed out of the house and went with Kade. I sat up waiting for her, imagining all the horrible things he must be doing to her. She came back about four hours later with a big smile on her face. She said the guy was really nice. He'd promised to buy her a bunch of things, let her order whatever she wanted to eat from room service, and didn't make her do anything she didn't want to. She said she didn't want to do anything because he had a hairy chest or something." She laughed and shook her head. "She was forced to grow up too fast, but still a child in so many ways."

The smile faded. "She went there many times after that. She came back with new clothes, new gadgets…things I could never have given her. But she started acting different. She was distant and angry. And one day, she started asking me about money. She wanted to know how bad we needed it. How important it was. She said she didn't want to go back there again. I told her she didn't have to. She hugged me, and then I left for work." Deanna took a shaky breath. "That was the last time I saw her."

Cloud stood and walked over to the rough-cut window, staring out into the dark night, trying to hide the emotions that he knew she would see in his eyes. He had enough of his own problems, but when she was talking about this young teen, he couldn't help picturing Marlene. What would he do to get her back? How far would he go?

Look," he started, "I'd like to help you, but I have no idea how someone would even find the Brothers, much less get into their compound unnoticed." He was pretty sure cross-dressing wouldn't cut it this time.

"I…I don't know," Deanna said uncertainly. "But I have a lead. There's this club in mid-town, called Caberet. I saw one of them there. He was wearing one of those jackets with the fancy letter B on them."

Cloud turned to look at her. "Why doesn't Kade go get her back? He's gotta be losing money if he doesn't have her anymore," he said, failing to keep the anger from his voice.

She looked down at the table, avoiding his gaze. "He went to talk to them. He's…dead. They found him in a landfill, sliced to shreds."

He walked slowly back to his chair and stood behind it, bracing his hands on the back. "So you're aware that this isn't a small favor you're asking. People that tangle with the Brothers usually end up dead." He leaned forward, eyes blazing into her. "So tell me: why me?"

"I told you," she said, picking at the table with a fingernail. "You had those swords, and you helped me once before."

"Everyone in this neighborhood carries a weapon," he said dismissively. "And just because someone offers help doesn't mean they can deal with the Brothers. And don't give me any BS about kind eyes."

Slowly, Deanna looked up. "It was because of your eyes," she said softly. "You have a mako glow. You were a SOLDIER, weren't you?" Cloud scoffed in irritation and looked away, but she sat forward, getting more animated. "Heroes to children, protectors of peace! That's what you're supposed to do! Please, Jacob! You're her only hope."

The cold laughter rang in his head. 'She might have had a chance with Cloud Strife. But you're not him anymore, are you? You're cold, calculating, Jacob Mack, and you help no one but yourself.'

Cloud slammed his fist on the table. It splintered in the middle, sending their nearly empty beer bottles flying, crashing to the floor. Deanna jumped up with a startled little yelp and stared at him with wide eyes.

The laughing only intensified.

He took a slow, deep breath and let it out. "I'll see what I can do, ok? Come find me in a couple days."

"But how do I—"

"I really need you to leave," he said loudly. "Right now." His hands shook with the effort to control himself.

Deanna opened her mouth, but seemed to think better of it when she saw his face. She smoothed down her short, tight dress and walked quickly out the door.


Tifa stared at the tiered city in the distance. As Barret's truck bounced along the uneven ground, its three occupants sat in awkward silence.

"Tifa…" Marlene said hesitantly. "I'm sorry for what I said at the police station. You don't have to do this—"

"Yes I do," Tifa said firmly. "You were right, Mar. I should never have made him deal with this alone. I should have stayed by his side."

Silence fell over the truck again. They all knew she was right. Still, calling Barret felt like admitting failure. She wished she didn't have to send Marlene away, but she told herself it was best for everyone. Tifa had to stop trying to be everything for everybody and focus on what was most important. Right now, that was Cloud.

A memory hit her then, of calmer times, where they worried about things like nice dresses and pants that fit for Marlene and Denzel. 'You're the only person who can teach those kids. You're not the only person who can run a bar.' Cloud had given her the answer way back then, hadn't he? Prioritize and delegate. You can't do everything yourself. Why didn't he say that when she sent him away?

It was an easy answer, really. Cloud didn't consider himself important. He didn't think he should be a priority for Tifa. She wished he could see himself the way everyone else saw him – strong, fearless, fiercely protective of the people he loved. But he had been scarred, so many times in so many ways, and she feared he would never see himself clearly. She had vowed to remind him, over and over again until he believed it. She had utterly failed him when she sent him away, but she wouldn't fail him now. She wasn't going to let his life be discarded as a pawn to the planet, as a mausoleum for a monster.

By the time they reached Junon, twilight hovered over them like a dark blanket. Barret brought the truck to a stop outside the town. The villagers of the bottom tier, the original fishermen, didn't like people driving through to get to the elevator after the sun went down. It was a sleepy little town, completely apart from the technological city on the upper tiers. Most of them went to bed and got up with the sun.

Barret turned off the ignition and turned to look at Tifa, but she opened her door and got out of the truck. Barret quickly followed from his side, reaching into the bed of the truck for her pack. She held out her hand as he came around, but he shook his head. "Lemme carry it for now. We'll walk you up."

Tifa's lips tightened, but Barret scowled back. "It's not 'cause I'm worried 'bout ya. I just wanna spend a few more minutes with my friend." She relented, and the three of them walked up the dusty path together.

As they passed the first dark houses, Marlene slipped her hand into Tifa's. Tifa looked over at her and smiled. Marlene hadn't held her hand in years, but now it was just as much of a comfort to Tifa as it was to the little girl.

"Tifa…I didn't mean to hurt your feelings before—"

"It's alright, Mar. Don't worry about it."

"Wait, let me finish," Marlene said with a scowl. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, but I really am glad that you're going to be with Cloud. He's not strong like you. He needs you to hold him up, especially when that alien bitch is always whispering in his ear."

"Marlene! Language!" Tifa scolded. But her eyes were drawn to Barret, who was chuckling.

"There's really no better way to describe her, Teef," Barret shrugged.

Tifa tsked and shook her head, but she couldn't stop the small smile from breaking over her lips. Marlene seemed determined to defy her, and in the grand scheme of things, letting a bad word slip really wasn't the worst thing she could have done. Besides, she was Barret's responsibility to parent now. He would have to be the one to discipline her. There were undoubtedly some rocky times ahead for those two, but it would be good for the both of them.

Tifa found herself idly wondering what Aerith was like as a teenager. Marlene reminded her of Aerith in so many ways, but surely she couldn't have been rebellious. She'd already had the weight of the planet on her shoulders, even then. She was already aware of her constant surveillance.

There were no lights along the pathway in the fishing village, and the moon was shrouded in clouds. Tifa aimed the flashlight at their feet, giving them just enough light to see where they were stepping in the pitch dark. Now that they had stopped talking, their footsteps crunched loudly in the dirt, echoing eerily in the silent village. No one spoke again until they reached the elevator, afraid of disturbing the silent night. They stepped into the small circle of light in the elevator and the door clanged noisily shut.

"I think there's some decent hotels on the second level," Barret said as he pressed the button.

"Too expensive," Tifa said, pressing the third button.

Barret opened his mouth to argue, but Tifa silenced him with a look. He would surely never win the fight if he argued that the third tier was too dangerous for her, so he closed his mouth and stayed where he was when the doors opened on the second tier. After a minute, they closed again and the elevator continued upward.

A loud ding chimed as they reached the third tier, and the three of them stepped out into the street. The nightlife was in full swing up here, and although Tifa might argue that it was safe enough for her, she didn't feel comfortable bringing Marlene through it. She walked in front of the other two and turned to face them.

"I guess this is where we say goodbye."

She reached first for Marlene, and the teen clung tightly to her neck. Tifa squeezed back, just as tight, and brought her lips down to Marlene's ear. "I'm so, so sorry about what I made you do. I should never have made you help me. But it's done now, his parents got him back and he's at rest. Besides, it was my choice, so you shouldn't feel guilty or bad about anything you did. Ok?"

Marlene gave a little sniffle and nodded. "Take care of Cloud for us, would you? He's a mess without you," she said, her voice thick with tears.

Tifa nodded, finding her own eyes suddenly wet. She released Marlene and reached up for Barret. He wrapped his arms around her and picked her up in a giant bear hug, the way she had always hated. "Barret, stop!" she laughed.

He held her in the air for another second and then set her down, but didn't release her. "You keep that Spikey in line, a'right? An' jes call if you need anything."

"I will," Tifa said with a smile. He released her and then handed her the pack. She swung it over one shoulder and then watched the two of them until the elevator doors closed at their backs.

She felt a sudden sharp tug on her backpack. She jerked it back and turned around. "Hey!"

The gap-toothed, buzz cut man looked shocked at first, then his smile widened as he saw her from the front. He reached for her face and Tifa slapped his hand away, none too gently. The smile disappeared, his hands closed into fists, and he stepped into her personal space. Tifa dropped her pack and put her arms around his neck, linking her hands in the back, then pulled his head down hard while bringing up her knee. A soft thud was followed by a loud scream and the feeling of hot blood on her leg.

She released him and he fell backwards onto the street, holding his hands over his nose. "Aw, damn it. You got blood on my favorite shorts!" Tifa sighed in disgust and picked up her pack, then continued on down the strip.

No one bothered her for the rest of the walk. She managed to get the blood wiped off before stopping at a motel with a brightly lit "OTEL" in neon lights above the door. As she walked through the entrance, an old man looked up from behind the counter, gave her the usual head-to-toe glance, then stood up to greet her. "Good eve, miss. Meeting someone?"

"Just me," she said stiffly. The innkeeper gave her a skeptical look, but did the gil/key exchange without any further comment. She nodded her thanks and started up the narrow staircase with her backpack.

Reaching the second room on the right, Tifa shouldered open the stiff door and flipped on the light. She put her hands above her head and stretched her back, wondering what Cloud was up to. It felt like an eternity since they had spoken. She realized suddenly that, in all her preparations for leaving, she had not yet told him she was coming.

She locked the door and sat down at the head of the bed, crossing her legs and leaning against the wall. It was still early enough. For some reason, she felt nervous about telling him. Would he be angry that she didn't think he could do it alone? No. He hadn't wanted to go in the first place. Laughing at herself for being afraid to talk to Cloud of all people, she pulled out her phone and brought up his name in her contacts.

It made her smile. She rarely used that phone, and had forgotten about his profile picture. He was with his prized golden chocobo, Kiran – the one who had dominated the S class at the Gold Saucer. Cloud was standing on his back, being a cocky little turd as they were returning him to the chocobo farm. That was the day they found out that Kiran had a girlfriend.

They heard a "wark" in the distance, and Kiran took off. Tifa had been taking pictures already, and just happened to capture that moment – Cloud with one foot in the air, arms straight out, his hair standing up, and a comical expression of surprise on his face.

Cloud, of course, had tried to get her to delete it, but as far as Tifa was concerned, it was the best picture he'd ever taken. She ran her finger gently over the picture and pressed the button to dial. It barely rang before going to voicemail. She sighed. He'd forgotten to plug it in, yet again. She waited for the beep. "Hey Cloud, it's me. I...um...well, I really wish I could have told you this myself instead of leaving a message, but...anyway. I'm coming to Costa del Sol. We're going to figure out this Jenova thing together. I should have done it from the start, but...I didn't. So I'll see you in a couple days." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I love you, Cloud."


Lexi hurried down the corridor after evening workgroup. Denzel was supposed to be in her group that evening, but he hadn't shown up. Lexi was worried. He had seemed so agitated and distracted at dinner, although he insisted that nothing was wrong when she questioned him.

When she reached the door to Denzel's dorm, she rapped quickly on the door. "Come on, Denzel," she whispered impatiently. A moment later, the door opened. Denzel stood there in his pajamas, beaming. Lexi didn't know quite what to say. She blinked at him for a few seconds before finding her words. "You…weren't at evening workgroup. I was…worried."

Denzel grinned and shook his head. "I know, but you'll never believe who was just here. Cloud!" he babbled excitedly.

"Cloud?" Lexi furrowed her brow. "How did Cloud get in here? Visitors aren't allowed anymore."

Denzel frowned, but only for a second. "Well he used to work here. He probably still has access. But who cares! Lexi, he said he's not mad at me! He said he was sorry he hadn't been able to visit, but he wasn't mad at all."

Lexi forced a smile. "That's…great, Denzel. But…" She hesitated to rain on his parade, but if the Cloud he saw wasn't real, he needed to know. "Well, don't you remember when I saw my mom and little brother?"

"No, it wasn't like that," Denzel insisted. "He was real. Ask Alicia! She saw him too!"

He stepped to the side, and for the first time Lexi could see the girl sitting on his bed. An unwelcome surge of jealousy shot through her. Alicia smiled. "Yeah, I saw him. He was here."

"That's great, Denzel," Lexi said again, shifting awkwardly on her feet as she looked between him and Alicia. She felt like an intruder. "Well, it's almost lights out, so…I should probably go."

Alicia stood and straightened her uniform, a rather shapeless fabric which she somehow managed to make look good. "Wait up. I'll walk with you." Her hand lingered on Denzel's bicep as she passed, flashing him a flirty smile. "See you later, Denzel."

Lexi swallowed down the bitter taste that filled her mouth. She should be happy for them. Hadn't she been the one telling Denzel that he needed to let go of the anger he held towards his ex? It was obvious that he finally had. It was a good thing.

Denzel said goodnight to the girls and closed the door as they began their trek across the boys' wing. Lexi twisted her fingers together nervously. "So…did you really see Cloud?"

"Yeah!" Alicia said enthusiastically. "Denzel was so excited. Did you see how happy he was?"

"I saw," Lexi said, watching the patterns of the carpet as they passed under her feet. "So…are you and Denzel like…back together now?"

Alicia sighed. "Not yet, but…maybe." She stopped and grabbed Lexi's arm. "Lexi, is that ok? I mean, I know you guys are close…"

Lexi forced herself to smile. "No, it's fine. We're just friends."

Alicia's brow furrowed. She studied the other girl's face. "Are you sure? Because I don't want to—"

"No, really," Lexi insisted. "We've talked about it and everything. If it works out between you two, I'm happy for you." Alicia beamed, and they resumed walking down the hall. "So what happened today? Denzel wasn't at evening workgroup. Did Cloud just like…show up?"

"Yeah. He just knocked on the door of Denzel's dorm."

"Huh." Lexi frowned. "Just showed up out of the blue. Doesn't that seem a little odd to you?"

Alicia shrugged. "Not really. And who cares, anyway? Denzel's been really tore up, thinking Cloud hated him or something. This is really huge for him."

Lexi shook her head and smiled faintly. "Yeah. You're right. I'm happy for him."

They made friendly small talk for the rest of the way back to their room, but Lexi's mind was spinning. This is what she wanted, right? She wasn't ready for what Denzel wanted, and Alicia obviously was on board with it. So now they could just stay friends. No complications with Marlene, no extra feelings in the way…it was for the best.

That's what she told herself until she fell asleep that night. She reminded herself again in the morning when she noticed Alicia's hand on Denzel's leg during breakfast. The rest of her entourage filled the other seats at the table. It was fitting, really – even if it wasn't official, they were "Alicia and Denzel" again, and it seemed natural, surrounded by their old clique. So natural, except for that one extra person, sticking out like a sore thumb.

While Denzel was animatedly telling his story about Cloud's visit to the rest of the table, she got up quietly and left. No one even noticed.


'Why do you fight me so hard?'

"Because you're a parasite," Cloud growled in irritation as he pulled the wrap tightly around his upper arm. "I hate you and I want you gone."

'You can't hate me without hating yourself, love.'

Cloud had nothing to say to that.

'It doesn't have to be this way, you know. We can help each other.'

"I will never help you. Not willingly."

'Do you like feeling this way? That urge to slice, to see someone bleed – you don't have to put up with it.'

"I found a way around that," Cloud said, gritting his teeth as he tied the wrap.

'Ah yes, the cutting. Let's be honest now, love. Do you really do that for me?'

"Of course I do," he snapped. "Do you think I would do that to myself if I didn't have to?"

Her response was a taunting laugh in his head. Cloud pulled his sleeve down over the bandage and picked up his sword, wiping off the blood with an extra piece of the wrap. "I'm done talking to you," he said bitterly.

'That's alright, love. You just listen. When you go to this club, there's a good chance that you will have the opportunity to let loose some of your…frustration. But it will be so much better if you let me take control.'

Despite his vow not to continue talking to her, he couldn't help himself from replying. "Right. Because that went so well in Junon."

'Yes, exactly! You don't honestly feel guilty about killing those low-life criminals, do you?'

Cloud didn't answer.

'Really, love, they should be thanking us. We cleansed the city of several dangerous men. We probably saved hundreds of innocents. Besides, think of how much better you felt afterward.'

As much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn't. Cloud had felt amazing for days afterward. The desire for blood, her endless prodding for him to hurt someone, the short-lived satisfaction of the cutting – it was all gone during that time. He had felt almost peaceful on that boat, and Jenova had left him alone for the whole trip.

"That's what you want?" Cloud asked angrily. "You want to use my body to murder people?"

'It doesn't have to be murder.'

His silence was his answer.

'You're just making this harder on yourself. I hate to see you hurting so much.'

Cloud snorted and went to resheath his sword, but his blurred reflection caught his attention. He held the sword up closer for inspection. It looked awful. It had been given only the most basic of care since he'd come to Costa. He hadn't thoroughly cleaned or polished it, and the blade was unacceptably dull.

'Cloud would never let his swords be so neglected.'

"Stop saying those things! I'm still me."

'Is that right? Is that who you see in the mirror?'

"I can't look the way I used to, but…gods, why am I still talking to you?" Cloud stomped over to his suitcase in the corner of the room and took out his cleaning and polishing supplies.

'Because you're lonely.'

Cloud scowled, but didn't respond. It was probably true. Talking to an alien inside his head was better than being alone. He hated to be alone. It reminded him of his self-imposed isolation when he had Geostigma. He had promised Tifa he would never be so stupid again, but this time, she was the one who had sent him away.

It seemed like ages since he'd heard Tifa's voice, and even as uncomfortable as their phone conversations had been of late, he needed to hear it. He needed to know he wasn't truly alone with Jenova. If anything, the evening's conversation and touching by Deanna only made him crave a true connection even more.

He picked up the phone and pressed the button, but the screen stayed black. He tried a few more buttons, then held down the power button. Nothing. Dead.

Tifa was right. He really was horrible about remembering to keep it charged. He grabbed the cord and plugged it back into the phone, then sat and stared at it, waiting impatiently for some kind of signal light. Every minute or so, he tried the power button again, but there wasn't even a flicker now.

After 15 minutes of fruitless struggling with technology, he checked the cord, following it back from the plug in the wall. It wasn't hard to find the severed wires. He turned it over in his hands, examining the tiny teeth marks and stripped plastic.

"Damn rats," he muttered, tossing his phone back on the table. It was too late by then to find a store where he could replace the charger, so he left it alone and went to bed. He would have to survive one more night without Tifa.

The next day, he searched all over mid-town for a charger that would fit, but no one seemed to recognize the model. There were different manufacturers and brands on this continent, and the connectors were entirely different. He was going to have to buy a new phone, and he had nowhere near enough money for that. He would just have to try and pick up more jobs down at the docks until he could save enough.

He made a stop at the public library to look through some more books, and was surprised to run across a public phone. He didn't even realize they were still around. Cloud dug through his pockets for some change and eagerly dropped it into the coin slot. With his finger hovering over the buttons, he racked his brain for the phone number of someone from back home, even someone who knew Tifa and could let her know what happened, but he drew a blank. They were all stored in his phone, so he'd never bothered to memorize any of them. He slammed the receiver back down and cursed technology.

Later that evening, after asking several locals for directions, Cloud found himself standing across the street from Club Cabaret. He memorized the layout of all the doors and windows, and any other possible escape routes. He watched several people dressed in glittering gowns and expensive suits nod briefly to the person at the door and then disappear inside. When he decided that he had as much information as he could gather from the outside, he crossed the street and approached the door.

He nodded to the doorman as he'd seen the others do, but the man didn't move aside. "I'm sorry, you can't come in here."

"Why not?"

"Because we have certain standards."

"What?" Cloud scoffed. "What kind of standards?"

"Well, dress and decorum, for one. And there are no weapons allowed," he said, gesturing to the swords sheathed at his hips.

Cloud held up his hands in a gesture of surrender and stepped back. The doorman went back inside and pulled the door shut. Cloud walked away until he was out of sight, then circled around to the back of the building. There was a "STAFF ONLY" door that he could probably get through, but he would still stand out in his sleeveless white shirt and jeans.

As he stood there looking at the door, it suddenly burst open, and out tumbled a man and a woman who were seriously preoccupied. They stopped kissing long enough to glance around frantically, and then he pulled her by the hand around the side of the building.

Cloud followed behind at a leisurely pace. They might need a minute or two to really get going. By the time he rounded the corner of the building, he had her pressed against the wall, and they were passionately oblivious to anyone but each other. His suit coat was discarded on the ground and her dress was hiked up. Cloud crept carefully around behind them and scooped up the coat, then casually kept walking.

He went back around the building, pulling on the coat as he walked. It was a little loose, but it would look ok in the dim lighting of the club. It also hid the hilts of his swords, making his weapons much less noticeable. Approaching the staff entrance, he tried the knob. It was locked from the inside, but it was just a simple knob lock. It snapped with one sharp twist of his wrist.

Cloud opened the door a crack and peeked inside. It was a hallway, with an office door and a single bathroom to the right, and a noisy kitchen opening to the left. He waited for a couple of waiters to pass by, then followed quietly behind them, right out to the main club floor.

As he had hoped, it was dimly lit. With mako-enhanced vision, he could see everyone clearly, but they wouldn't get a good look at him. He scanned the floor to get a layout: high tables by the window, straight across from where he stood; bar on the right; dance floor on the left.

He made his way slowly across the room, headed for the high tables. He saw none of the jackets with the stylized B that Deanna had mentioned, but he took a seat with his back to the windows and waited.

People came and went, and the waitress tired of bringing him water, with his insistence that he needed to wait for his companion to arrive. It was getting close to closing time, and he had all but given up when the staff door opened, and a young man with a gleaming, stylized B on his jacket came out and seated himself at the bar. He chatted with the bartender for several minutes, and then headed for the front door.

Using the crowd as cover, Cloud followed behind him, turning his head to look the other way when he passed the doorman. The night air was refreshing after the stuffy club, and Cloud ditched the jacket as soon as they were out of sight.

The man was walking down the street, his hands casually slid in the pockets of the expensive suit coat. Cloud ducked into a doorway where he could watch the man from the shadows. He darted behind a parked car, then a garbage bin, his adept footsteps completely silent. The man didn't seem overly concerned with his surroundings, so Cloud was caught completely off guard when the man suddenly stopped walking and asked, "Why are you following me?" He didn't even sound angry, merely curious.

Cloud froze, wondering how the man could have possibly seen or heard him. Then a trembling voice, a little ways behind him, spoke up. "I just…wanted to see where you were going. I—I'm looking for someone."

Deanna! Cloud mentally cursed at the woman. She stood in the middle of the road, about a block behind the man, in a pretty grey dress. The man looked over his shoulder and flicked his wrist. Cloud saw the gleam of the silver throwing star as it hurdled toward Deanna.

He lunged forward and rolled, flicking out his sword just in time to deflect the star. He flipped to his feet and stood between the two, both swords at the ready. Deanna sucked in a sharp breath. "Jacob?!"

"Get out of here, Deanna," he said, without taking his eyes off the man.

The man tilted his head with a cocky grin. "Well now, what is this? A hero?" Cloud was surprised to see that the man was actually much younger than he'd thought. He couldn't have been more than eighteen.

"Deanna, move!" Cloud demanded again. She was frozen behind him.

The man flicked his wrist again, and the fallen star at Cloud's feet flew up at his face. Cloud knocked it to the side with one of his blades. What…just happened?

The man's smile widened. "Quick, aren't you?"

Cloud started backing slowly toward Deanna. The man raised one hand, and two more throwing stars rose up and hovered in front of it. What in Odin's name…?

He flicked his wrist again, and the two stars flew at him. Cloud knocked them both aside. "Deanna! Get out of the road!" She still hadn't moved, but Cloud had finally gotten far enough back to reach behind him and grasp her wrist. He pulled in the direction of the curb, and she stumbled and fell behind a parked car.

The young man still seemed amused. He put both hands out in front of him, palms up, and lifted them several inches. Five stars – two new ones, plus the three Cloud had already deflected, rose up in the air again. Cloud crouched down as the stars flew even faster, weaving in the air, changing their trajectory.

*Ping*….*Ping*Ping*…..*Ping*….*Ping*

All five were easily knocked aside by rapidly turning blades.

'Let me do it, love. Let me teach him a lesson.'

"No."

"No?" The man laughed, thinking Cloud was talking to him. "Does that mean 'Please stop, Yarov! I can't take it anymore'?" His voice took on a high falsetto with his imitation.

'I won't kill him. I swear on my own name.'

"No!" Cloud said, more firmly.

"Well then you'll have to be more specific," Yarov said, hurling several more for emphasis. Cloud dodged two and knocked six others to the side.

'Let me out. Let me do it. I'll save you the guilt.'

Cloud felt a kind of pressure inside his head. She was trying to force herself in, and he pushed back with all his might. She was retreating, but there were now a dozen throwing stars hurling at him, coming from every direction. He spun around, blocking them all with the two blades, but his concentration was diverted to those stars, and in his moment of distraction she pushed past his barrier.

The world turned black.

The next thing Cloud saw was asphalt. He was on his hands and knees in the road, and someone was tugging on his shoulder, trying to pull him up. Cloud lifted his head and looked in that direction. "Deanna?" he said groggily. She wasn't having much success pulling him to his feet, but as his head cleared, he stood up on his own.

"Jacob, are you ok? What happened? You were just fine a second ago, I mean you were amazing, but then you fell down and…"

Cloud put his hand to his head and looked around. His swords were at his feet, tinged with blood, and the young man was nowhere to be seen. "What did you do?" he asked lowly.

"What?" Deanna sounded startled. "I didn't do anything! I was hiding behind that car and that guy was throwing things at you!"

'Nothing serious. I just took care of him.'

"Took care of him? What does that mean?"

Deanna looked really confused. "No, that's not what I said, Jacob…"

'Relax. He's fine.'

Cloud picked up his swords and wiped them quickly on his pants, realizing too late that he wasn't wearing his usual black fighting pants. Those things could hide anything. There was nothing he could do about it, though, so he slid the swords back into their sheaths.

He spun around to look at Deanna, who looked ready to flee at any moment. "Deanna. I need to know what happened."

"What happened…when?" she asked, more concerned by the second.

"Just now. The fight with that kid."

"Are you ok, Jacob?"

Cloud let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't have time to explain right now, but I don't remember what happened. Please, just tell me what you saw."

Deanna blinked a few times, then slowly began. "Well, first, I was following behind that man. I thought I was being sneaky, but he stopped and he asked why I was following him. I told him I was looking for someone. Then you appeared out of nowhere between us and hit something out of the air. He started throwing more, but…not actually throwing them with his hands. It doesn't make sense, I know, but—"

He nodded impatiently. "I remember that part. Then what?"

"Well, you grabbed my wrist and yanked me over toward that car. And then…then there were things flying everywhere, so fast I couldn't see them, but...you knocked them all out of the air." Her eyes were wide with awe. "It was crazy, Jacob. I didn't know people could move that fast. I guess that's why you were in SOLDIER."

Cloud didn't bother to correct her, just motioned for her to continue.

"And then you started walking closer to him. I guess you said something to him, but I couldn't hear. All the silver things in the air fell to the ground. You held your hand up in front of him, like you were showing him something on your palm. And then…" her brow furrowed, and she hesitated.

"Then what?" Cloud prodded. "What did I do next?"

"Well, you didn't touch him. He just fell down on the ground. Then you leaned over him and…cut his face with your swords." She looked disturbed as she recounted this, as if she had just blocked it out of her mind in the triumph of the fight and was just now realizing what he had done. "And then he got up and ran away, you fell down on your hands and knees, and I ran over to you and tried to pull you up."

She held up her hands helplessly. "It was the most bizarre fight I've ever seen, and now you don't even remember what happened, and we just pissed off one of the Brothers and I have no idea what's going on!" Her voice was rising to the level of hysteria, so he placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her.

"Deanna. Deanna!" Her eyes focused back on him. "Just relax. It's ok. We're both in one piece, and it sounds like that guy is too. Let's just…get home, and then we'll figure this out."

Her breathing, which had been steadily heading toward hyperventilation, finally slowed. "Ok. Ok. We'll figure it out."

"Just one last question," he said, shaking her shoulders gently to get her attention. "Were my eyes green? Or did they change at all?"

Deanna slowly shook her head. "I dunno. Your back was to me. Oh, but his did! They were green and funny looking, almost like…like a cat." She thought for a moment longer, then nodded. "Yes. They looked just like a cat's eyes."