Disclaimer: I do not own ANY part of Final Fantasy VII in ANY way, shape, or form. I own NOTHING!

Chapter 20:

TIFA

Covered in guests and decorations, Seventh Heaven is almost unrecognizable. It is exploding with pink, green, and blue ribbons, balloons, banners, and tablecloths. Gifts are scattered everywhere, and even though we are still in the process of opening them all, I already know we have more than we will ever need.

There are way more people than I anticipated. Whenever I let everyone talk us into having a baby shower, I thought that it would just be our usual crowd — perhaps a few more. But Seventh Heaven is full of countless neighbors and customers. Some of our suppliers are even here.

Given how some people still aren't sure how they feel about us, I never would have expected this kind of support. It is a pleasant surprise that makes me feel warm and accepted.

With Cid Highwind Junior underfoot, Shera helps organize all the opened gifts on a separate table. Marlene, Denzel, and Moogle Girl try to herd him away, so we can work uninhibited, but Junior isn't having it. He simply wants to be near Shera and is under the impression that he is a key cog in our gift opening machine. He either hands us a present or helps us open them, ripping the paper to shreds and slinging tissue paper everywhere.

In an attempt to re-establish some order for us, Cid Senior intervenes, but he fails just as everyone else had before him.

Junior howls whenever Cid tries to pick him up, to which Cid replies: "Well, fine then! Be that way!"

"It's okay, Cid," I say with a smile. "He isn't hurting anything."

"Yet," Cid scoffs as he saunters back to his seat at the table with Barret, Vincent, and Reeve. "Give 'im a minute."

As I continue to hand Junior the newly opened toys, teething rings, and rattles, I think Cid may be right. The toys only keep him occupied for so long. Clearly (along with a robust set of lungs and a wild tongue), he has inherited Cid Senior's limited attention span.

Despite Junior's minor disruptions, we are still able to make relatively quick work of the gift table with Shera's help and to say that I am grateful for her would be a massive understatement.

Shera has been an unexpected comfort to me lately. There are times when I feel like she is the only person I can talk to about some of the things I've been experiencing. She's the only one who might understand. She's the only person I'm relatively close to who has experienced pregnancy — much less post-Geostigma pregnancy.

I think she senses that void and knows I need someone like her around right now. She has been surprisingly attentive. Sometimes, I wonder if she sees me as a sad, little orphan who is in over her head without any kind of maternal support.

I can't help but wonder if the other guests see me this way too as they gather around Cloud and me. If they do, they don't show it. They are nothing but supportive.

They want to touch my belly. They say how happy they are for us. They ask about names. They take guesses at the baby's gender and potential birth date. They tell me how beautiful I look, how I am glowing. Then they start sharing stories about their children and their experiences with pregnancy.

As I listen to them talk, I can't help but notice that no one talks about nightmares. No one talks about voices or hallucinations. They only talk about morning sickness, fatigue, strange cravings, mood swings — typical things like that.

I've experienced those things as well, of course, but they don't talk about the darkness I've faced. None of them act like it was anything other than a joy, which only serves as a reminder that something is wrong with me.

I've had those moments of unrivaled joy too, but they are scattered around sparingly as if my unwell mind knows we need to save them for another particularly nasty stretch of hopelessness.

It is a darkness unlike any I've experienced before, which is saying something. Throughout my years on the Planet, I've faced some pretty dark days, but this is different.

Some of it I can attribute to a normal pregnancy. Mood swings and crying easily are common pregnancy symptoms. Where I differ, is my desire to eat a lot, then nothing at all. I lack energy and motivation. I can't make decisions. My sleep schedule is a joke (I either sleep like I'm in Vincent's coffin under Shinra Manor or I am an insomniac, pacing the floors of our home like a phantom). Nothing holds my attention. I've lost interest in the things I used to enjoy. I can't focus or make simple decisions. Sometimes, I even have memory problems.

All of that makes me feel overwhelmingly guilty, which makes me withdraw from everyone more than I already have, and that withdrawal makes me feel even guiltier than I felt originally.

It is a vicious cycle. I feel so much, then I feel to the point that I can't feel anything. After that, it all blurs together. I lose track of the hours, days, and finally, the weeks.

I feel bad, and I feel bad that I feel bad. I hate myself for not being more excited. I even wore a white dress today, stupidly thinking that it would somehow brighten my mood, that its radiance would push the shadows clawing violently at the edges of my brain away.

It doesn't.

The shadows stay, varying in size and intensity. They float around in my head like the colorful mobile Nanaki brought us from Cosmo Canyon, taking turns reentering to the forefront of my mind, and I never know when the next will come or what it will bring with it.

I have enjoyed today, truly. I feel better today than I've felt in a long time, but I am getting tired. I don't see the shadows, but I feel them growing restless, whining impatiently for attention.

I fight them. I fight them with everything I have. I won't let them take today from me. I won't let Sephiroth or even Jenova intrude on us today.

Not today…

I pull the purple moogle doll we got from Moogle Girl to my chest and take long, deep breaths like the doctor told me to whenever I start to feel this way.

Denzel - who up until this point has been goofing off with Marlene, Moogle Girl, Rick, and a few other neighborhood kids nearby - makes firm eye contact with me.

He mouths: You okay?

I wink and give him a playful thumbs up as my stomach cramps. I hide the pain, though.

Pacified, he relaxes and follows the others out of the bar, rushing back to the curb so they can be away from the adults.

Still hugging the doll, I minimize all movement and continue to socialize as best I can. My mind says that if I don't move, the practice contractions will stop. I focus on the fur of the stuffed animal gliding between my fingers, and this works…for a while.

I force down a cupcake with some ice cream even though I'm not hungry. The urge to shift and stretch out the discomfort is unbearable. At this point, I'm so big that I don't think anyone would bat an eye at my visible discomfort. Except for Cloud. Cloud will know. He may know already. He is sticking close.

Even if Cloud notices something is off, there isn't much he can do about it. Junior Highwind has dubbed him his new favorite person.

"Why is your hair so spiky?" Junior asks, narrowing his bright blue eyes at Cloud's head.

Cloud shrugs.

"Ya should have seen it when he was younger!" Barret says as he sits at the table with another plate of finger sandwiches. "It used to be way spikier than that. That's why I call 'im Spiky."

"You should call him Uncle Spiky." Yuffie ruffles Junior's hair around until it favors Cloud's.

Cloud gives her a silent glare. "No one is calling anyone Uncle Spiky."

Luckily for Cloud, Junior doesn't adopt the nickname. He simply continues to climbs all over Cloud's lap, rambling about nothing to anyone and everyone within a five-foot radius, and Cloud just takes it even though he is pulling at his hair and getting cake and ice cream all over him and his navy blue shirt.

Cid laughs across the table, rolling his toothpick masterfully around on his tongue. "Get used to it, Cloud. Once yer runt gets here, it'll be just as messy."

Cloud leans back and rakes a hand through his hair a few times, exposing his strong jawline and the chorded muscle in his neck. I stare as he swallows and his Adam's apple bobs up and down.

He isn't trying to be sexy, but he is. He is so effortlessly beautiful that it almost makes me sick, but it mostly makes me want to rip his clothes off. That could just be the hormones talking, though.

"Yeah." He shakes some of the cake out of his hair, but some pink frosting lingers between the pale strands of blond. "But it'll be my kid, so it won't bother me as much."

Cid laughs louder. "That don't mean it won't bother ya! It'll squeal, shit, and puke like the rest of 'em. Blood ain't got nothing to do with that!"

"But it's all worth it," Shera adds, giving Cid a subtle yet still stern glance. "And the happiness they give you outweighs all of that tenfold."

Cid smirks, beaming with a quirky amount of pride as he watches his son continue to wriggle in Cloud's arms. "Yeah. I wouldn't trade squirt for nothin'."

"Has Cid Highwind gotten…soft?" Nanaki teases lightly, his tail swishing and his sharp yellow eyes shining with mischief.

"I ain't soft!" Cid huffs, folding his arms and puffing out his chest.

Yuffie pokes at his belly, which is a little pudgier than it once was. "Are you sure?"

Everyone fights the urge to laugh, even Vincent.

"I'm sure, goddamn it. Now quit touchin' me!" He swats her hand away.

Junior finally grows tired of Cloud and moves onto Vincent, tugging at his cape and asking him why his eyes are red, which Yuffie and Cid find terribly amusing. They even start encouraging it and giving Junior other questions to ask him, but, like Cloud, Vincent simply takes it.

I take a napkin off the table, dampen it with some water from a water bottle, and tug at Cloud's sleeve. "Come here."

Cloud follows my instruction obediently and turns in his chair to face me. I hold his chin with one hand and wipe the frosting off him with the other.

I chuckle. "It's everywhere."

He closes his eyes, leaning closer to me. "I figured."

It's a good thing his hair isn't as wild or as spiky as it was when we were younger. I'm struggling to get the bits of cake and frosting out enough as it is.

His eyes open and connect with mine, his mouth quirking into a marvelous half-smile.

My heart leaps as if this is the first time he's ever smiled at me like that. My stomach does a little flip, but I'm not sure if it is my reaction to him or if it's the baby.

"I know you've heard it a lot today already, but you do look beautiful," he says lowly, allowing his words to be a secret between us. His eyes glitter with pride and deep authentic affection.

Again, I react like this is the first time this has ever happened, but I'll never get over him looking at me like this. Moments like this will always be precious to me simply because they are from Cloud.

"Thank you." I fix his collar and remove as much of the cake from his shirt as I can, which isn't much. Junior did a good job of smearing it into the fabric.

It may have been subconscious, but I notice Cloud leaning into the palm of my hand before I pull away and turn my attention back to the others.

I recline in my chair, cradling the bottom my belly, feeling the baby twist against my movements. I squirm in my chair as they wriggle against my insides.

Contentment swells in me as I simply sit back and watch everyone interact. It is a scene I've seen play out countless times before, but it never fails to move me because they are my people.

Yuffie and Shelk are giving Vincent tips for his latest phone as Junior continues to examine the frazzled edges of his cape. Barret, Cid, and Reeve are having a heated debate on how technological advancements are impacting the business world. Meanwhile, Shera, Nanaki, and I try not to laugh as Marlene and Denzel slowly make a pink and blue mummy out of Cloud with the leftover shower decorations.

My throat tightens. I feel like I might cry. I'm overwhelmed. The emotions hit me out of nowhere, but it isn't necessarily bad. The intensity of my joy is just unexpected.

These are the moments that I could live in forever.

Seventh Heaven empties just before nightfall, and now we have to take down the decorations, move all the gifts, and put away the leftover food.

Of course, I want to help, but everyone does everything in their power to keep me stationary. They want me to rest since I've been on my swollen feet all day. They grumble and fuss every time I try to lend a hand with anything, which makes me grumble and fuss.

In the end, I win. No one wants to argue with a cranky pregnant woman.

"There ain't no talkin' to her." Barret hauls several extra chairs over his shoulders. "She's gonna help or bust."

"Literally!" Yuffie puts a balloon under her shirt and imitates my waddle, which prompts Denzel and Marlene to laugh and do the same.

"That's not funny, Yuffie. What if Tifa were to go into labor?" Nanaki chides.

"No one is going into labor!" I cry as I transfer some of the baby's latest things into boxes that will go to the new house.

"Cloud is gonna go into labor if y'all don't shut the hell up!" Cid barks, taking a bottle of Corel alcohol off the shelf and taking a long swig.

Glancing back at the bar, I see that Cloud is exasperated with all of us. Once Cid finishes his drag, Cloud takes the bottle from him and pours himself a glass.

I reach for the wad of towels, clothes, and bibs the kids wrapped into a baby-shaped mass — complete with a bonnet to make it look even more like a baby — when they got bored earlier. I pull the bundle into my arms to unroll it, but my vision starts to flicker.

I look up at the lights overhead, hoping that they are the problem and not me, but they seem stable, normal.

My ears start to buzz. There is more flickering, green light.

Taking in a deep breath, I close my eyes and shake my head.

Stop.

I turn my attention back to the kids' towel-baby, but it suddenly looks like a real baby. Not only that, but it looks like the baby I've had nightmares about — the one with Sephiroth's cold, hard eyes and bloodless skin.

There is shrill shrieking in my head and more flashes of unnatural green.

I scream, drop it, and crash into the present table.

Shaking, I cover my ears, pull at my hair, and claw at the back of my head.

GO AWAY!

"Tifa!"

No…

"What's wrong?"

No.

"Should we call someone?"

"Not yet. Hold on…"

"Tifa?"

"NO!" I shout so loud my vision blurs before it violently snaps back into focus.

Hot tears run down my face as I scan the room. Everyone is looking at me with terror and panic all over their faces.

I am on the floor in Cloud's arms. Instinctively, I grab his face.

"Sorry… Sorry! I'm so sorry!" I don't know why I'm apologizing. I don't even know what happened.

He strokes my face and my hair. "It's okay. Are you hurt? Are you in pain?"

I shake my head. "No… No… I'm scared…"

I sound like a child. I feel like a child. I am so disoriented and confused.

Cloud pulls me to his chest, rocking me gently and kissing my hair. "It's okay. You're okay."

My eyes dart around the floor, searching for the baby, but it isn't there. There is just a disheveled pile of baby clothes and washcloths.

In the farthest corner of the bar, I sit in a booth swaddled in blankets with a steaming cup of tea Shera made for me.

Feeling detached from everything around me, I watch as everyone continues to clean up and regroup after my latest episode.

I massage at my brow. My stomach cramps. My head hurts. I want to cry, but I've cried so much already.

I'm overwhelmed. I'm underwhelmed. More than anything, I'm terrified.

There's something in my brain, and that something is what's making me like this. I feel it. I've felt it ever since I saw Sephiroth, heard his voice. He has been with me ever since. He hasn't left me. I feel him here, boring a hole in the back of my head, whispering in my ear, summoning shadow after shadow.

Those damn cells are in me. I've fought it. I've been in denial about it despite how loudly my instincts were screaming at me, telling me something is wrong.

I feel like I am at war with myself. My cells are at war with the cells that have invaded my body during this pregnancy.

The biological part of me that senses this wants whatever has taken over my body out. It is a horribly ugly thought that makes me physically ill. I hate myself for it instantly, proving further that I am not well. I'm not in my right mind.

I grab the waste can and lose everything in my stomach. My eyes water and I sob silently.

I want to escape. I want to escape myself and my mind, but I can't.

They take turns checking on me, and I give them the same robotic response every time: I don't want to talk about it.

I must have zoned out again, because when I come back to, everyone is gone except for Yuffie, Barret, Cloud, Marlene, and Denzel. Did I even say goodbye? Did I thank them? Did I apologize?

Does it even matter?

"C'mon," Cloud says, extending a hand towards me.

Without questioning what he means or where he is planning on taking me, I take his hand and let him guide me to our bedroom.

"I want to take a bath," I say as Cloud tries to lead me to the bed. I feel dirty, and I'm not ready to wrestle with sleep yet.

He nods and reluctantly lets go of my hand so I can go to the bathroom.

I fill the tub, undress, and he takes my dress to the laundry basket, but he isn't gone long, and he never goes far. He moves as if each of his limbs is attached to mine by invisible strings, but I go through the motions of my nightly routine pretending he isn't there. I want so badly to feel normal, so I try to act normal. I try to act as nothing happened.

Cloud is not ready for either of those things, though.

"I know you said you didn't want to talk about it, but I kind of feel like we need to," he says as he lingers in the doorway and watches every microscopic move I make.

I slip into an oversized t-shirt, head to the sink, and grab the edge of the counter for physical and emotional support.

"Fine." I make eye contact with his reflection in the mirror. "Something is really, really wrong with me, Cloud."

"Don't say that." He frowns, wounded.

I turn to face him, but I quickly reestablish my grip on the sink's edge. "You said you wanted to talk about it."

"I do, but I don't want you saying things like that."

"It's the truth."

"Tifa, you don't know tha - "

"It's the truth!" I say brusquely, and he flinches. "If you want to talk about it, then you're going to have to see it for what it is."

He swallows hard, shakes his head, and stares at the ceiling. "But we don't know what it is. The doctor said-"

"I know what the doctor said!" I am shouting and shaking. The others can hear me, but I don't care. "Do you think I don't know what I feel?"

"No. I'm not saying that," he replies calmly despite how I'm becoming increasingly irate.

"Then you think I'm crazy." I try to push my way past him, but he blocks my path to the bedroom.

"I'm not saying that either." He grips my shoulders and holds me at arm's length. "Listen to me. I'm just worried. I can't have anything happen to you, Tifa. I can't."

I keep my eyes low and chew on the inside of my cheek. I can't look at him. I can't see the agony I already know is in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter." I am detaching again. I am glassed-off from him even though I feel his hands on me and his fingers tenderly ghosting along my hairline.

"What?" His brow knits together tightly, confusion spreading through his features rapidly.

"Let me go, please."

"We can go to another doctor or we can-"

"Stop it!" I shove his hands off me and force my way into the bedroom even though I don't understand why I'm acting this way. I hate this thing I've become. I hate what it does. I hate what it says.

I sit on the bed with my legs tucked underneath me and stare out at nothing. Everything seems to blur and blend together.

The mattress gives next to me, then Cloud's hand is on my back.

"Lie down and try to get some rest, okay...?"

I shake my head. "I'm afraid to sleep."

"I know, but it will make you feel better."

He doesn't get it. He doesn't know how awful those dreams make me feel, and after what happened tonight, I don't know if I can handle another nightmare implying that our unborn child is a monster. I can't be visited by Sephiroth or Jenova again. I might snap completely if I do. I'd finally succumb to madness, which is probably what they want.

"It's not that simple," I grumble. "Sleep won't make this better."

Cloud is quiet for a long moment. "…What can I do?"

An acute pain rushes through me at his question. I want so badly to have an answer. I wish there was something I could tell him. I wish there was something he could do, but I know there isn't.

As I hold his anguished gaze, I realize he knows this too.

"Will you at least lie down? I'll be right here with you. I won't leave. Please?" Cloud is actually begging.

I'm not sure if it is because of how pitiful and desperate Cloud sounds or if it's because I'm losing the strength to hold my head upright, but I lie down and let him conform around me.

I'm in a flower field, but I don't think I've ever been here before. I am a bit disoriented. All the flowers are so bright and colorful that I need a moment to adjust to the otherworldly radiance. It is almost too much for me.

Blinking, I see rows and rows of yellow and white lilies, their petals swirling around in the air like fresh snow. Instinctively, I hold my hand out to catch them, and they are softer than chocobo feathers.

"Hello, Tifa."

I go into shock. I know that voice. It's been so long, but I know it.

"Aerith…?"

Shifting around, I try to find her.

Green eyes find mine. They are soft and warm. I feel better just looking at them.

Aerith smiles brightly. It's infectious. I'm suddenly smiling too, but it doesn't last long.

"Am I dead?"

"No." She shakes her head, the auburn strands of hair framing her face swaying gently back and forth. "Just dreaming."

"Oh…"

She hasn't aged a day, of course. If anything, she seems younger as she sits down on the ground next to me. Her movements are light and ethereal as if she's floating, but she was always that way.

We sit in silence together. It's nice. We used to do this a lot by campfires, bodies water, or even in hotel rooms. Despite everything, we had this special way of coexisting and comforting each other, of speaking without actually speaking. She was a calming presence, and I was always under the impression that she thought I was too, so there would be moments when we would end up like this together.

I took those moments for granted. I never knew just how much I enjoyed them or how much I would miss them until they were gone, and I felt the void left behind.

"Not that I'm not enjoying being here with you, but why did you bring me here?" I finally ask.

Aerith smiles. "Don't you need me?"

I chew on the inside of my cheek. "I'm not sure what I need. I'm scared."

"Why? What are you scared of?"

"Sephiroth. Jenova… Just not knowing… I'm scared for my family. I'm scared of the future. I'm scared of the past. I'm scared I'm going crazy. I'm scared of the what-ifs and all the unanswered questions…"

Gentle laughter erupts from behind me. I turn to see tiny movements among the tall grass, darting over the rolling hills before a little girl approaches us.

I've never seen her before, but there is something so familiar about her. I feel like I've known her my whole life. I know her blue eyes. I know her blonde hair. I even know her laugh.

"Who's that?" I breathe as I shield my eyes from the vibrant sunlight in an attempt to see better.

Aerith leans forward and beams at me. "Don't you know?"

I watch the child's mannerisms. I study her: how she smiles and waves enthusiastically at us. She is radiant and warm, full of life.

My hand goes to my throat, then to my stomach.

"She's my daughter…"

"Look! I caught a butterfly!" She reminds me so much of Cloud as she comes bounding toward us with her hands carefully clamped around the butterfly. As she gets closer, I see that her eyes are the exact same color of blue that Cloud's were before Mako poisoning and the experiments.

She kneels in front of us as she cautiously reveals the colorful butterfly in her hands. She is mere inches away from me, but I don't touch her. I'm afraid that I'll contaminate her or that she will evaporate if I do.

"Is this…?" I yank my attention back and forth between her and Aerith. "Is she…?"

"She's real. She's your future."

She isn't what I'd been expecting at all. I've been so afraid and caught up with all the fear and potential complications that I couldn't picture something like this. I would always see someone with silver hair or someone as dark as me. But she is so bright, a physical manifestation of what Cloud lost, what all of us lost. She is hope incarnate - pure, playful, and unrestrained.

Tears - hot and slow - creep out the corners of my eyes.

She releases the butterfly and inches closer to me, placing small pleading hands on each side of my face. "Don't be sad, Mom… Everything's okay."

Nodding, I take in tiny, shaky breaths.

She crawls into my lap, curls into a small bundle, and rubs the long, fraying edges of my hair between her fingers in a slow, rhythmic pattern the same way Marlene used to do when she was this small.

Instinctively, I wrap my arms around her and tug her closer. I rock back and forth, but I do this more for myself than for her.

Fighting tears, I look over at Aerith who watches us with a small, knowing smile on her face.

"I figured this could be my gift to you since I wasn't able to make it to the baby shower." Aerith pats her tiny head and runs her fingers through her soft blonde hair.

"Thank you," I whisper.

She takes one of my hands and squeezes it between both of hers. "No, thank you…"

I wake up with tears still in my eyes, but I feel warm, safe, and content. All the turmoil is gone. I don't feel the shadows. I don't hear the whispers. I feel light and hope - real hope - again, and my heart hammers excitedly in my chest.

Early morning sunshine breaks through the windows of our bedroom, and it reminds me of the sunlight that was in the dream. The luminous shades are so similar that I can see the flower petals in the wind, the pollen that hovered around us like tiny fireflies, and the glittering, green reflections that bounced off the healthy blades of spring grass. I can hear the laughter, I can hear the words spoken, I can feel our girl in my arms, and I can still feel Aerith's touch on my hand.

Shifting in bed, I stretch and feel something fall out of my hand. It brushes along my face and goes into my hair. My hand follows the movement, and I recognize the texture instantly.

When I look in my hand, I see one of the small white lily petals in my palm.

Real... It was real.

"Tifa?" Cloud - still half asleep - watches me cautiously through lidded eyes and props himself up on his elbows. "You all right?"

Nodding enthusiastically, I laugh and rub the top of my belly. "It's a girl! We're gonna have a little girl."

A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

So I finally purchased the FFVII remake, but I haven't played it yet. I told myself I couldn't play until I updated this story! I'm thinking I'll finally tackle it now. Maybe... Not gonna lie, it still makes me nervous, but I'm also to the point where I'm finally excited. I've already had some of you ask if I'll tackle a FFVIIR story since it has given us more to play with, and honestly, I'm not sure yet. I guess it will depend on how I feel once I actually play the game? I also said I wouldn't do anything else until I finished this story!

Speaking of, I've had some of you ask how far along we are in this story. So to answer your question, I'm going to say we are creeping in on (if not already in) the last act. However, I haven't made the HARD cutoff point yet since I have some ideas floating around that could stretch the story on a bit longer. But at the same time, I don't want this story to get too lengthy. I'm going to assume that it will end similarly to Harmonies for the Haunted and my gut will simply yell at me to stop!

And lastly, who guessed that baby Strife would be a GIRL?! ;)

Thanks as always for sticking with this story. You are so loved and appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed this bittersweet chapter!