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

Chapter 21:

CLOUD

The backyard is filled with flowers from the church and Elmyra Gainsborough. Marlene and Tifa have been working diligently on the garden since we started the slow and gradual process of moving into the new house. There are all kinds, varying in size, shape, and color.

It's weird seeing Tifa work in the garden like this. She never touched the flowers before. She was always up for a visit to the church. She even encouraged it, but whenever we went, she would keep her distance from the flowers while Marlene would tend to them.

I always assumed that this had something to do with her guilt. When it came to certain things about Aerith, Tifa would tread lightly. I saw it as her trying to show respect.

Something changed in Tifa after Aerith visited her in her dream, though. She is now an observer and a participant. That old reluctance and sincere self-reproach have been wiped away. They don't hold her back like invisible chains anymore.

Not only did Aerith give her peace about our child, but she's also given her a newfound sense of peace in general. Tifa is almost Tifa again. She might even be something better in some ways. I hadn't realized just how dark things had gotten until her natural light started to shine again, chasing away the shadows that hid in plain sight around us.

Light returns, bursting with life and spectacular color.

I think about Aerith often — not as often as I once did. Time has this way of changing things, eroding them until they become something altogether different, something duller, something smoother. It has been a long time since I've wanted to see Aerith this badly, to hear her voice, to thank her.

A part of me hoped she'd visit me although I know Tifa needed her more than I did. Aerith knew that going through Tifa would impact me more than coming to me directly.

Still, I kind of wanted to see her how Tifa did, to see our daughter.

Daughter…

I believed Tifa the moment she told me we were having a girl. I had no doubt she was telling the truth, but it is still hard for me to grasp it. It seems so surreal that anything with my blood could be what she described.

"What do you think?" Marlene brushes the dirt off her hand onto her sundress and motions for me to look at their work.

"Nice," I say as I squat on the ground next to Tifa. "Aerith would be proud."

"They aren't as nice as hers, but they'll do." Tifa wipes at the sweat on her brow with the back of her hand.

Gray overcast winter has finally given way to spring, and the sun is back in full force, pressing its way through the still-budding tree leaves overhead. I could swear the seasons shifted the morning after Tifa's dream.

"You still feeling okay?" I ask lowly, shifting my attention from the flowers to focus on Tifa.

She rolls her eyes without actually rolling her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine."

"No practice contractions?"

Tifa puts her hands on her hips, but the pronounced baby bump bulging through her t-shirt reduces her intimidation factor. "Not yet but if you keep asking…"

Structure and order have also returned with Tifa's newfound vitality. She has kickstarted everything back into motion. She magically pieced everything back together, and the Planet no longer feels as off-kilter. But all of that also means that I am once again struggling to keep Tifa off her feet. She is active, trying to make up for the lost time. She has lists and itineraries for the move as well as a thorough birth plan for when she goes into labor.

I'm happy to have Tifa - my Tifa - back, but I did not miss constantly trying to reel her back in to make sure she wasn't overdoing it. I refuse to complain, though. This is still the lesser of the evils by far.

"I'm done unpacking some of my stuff," Denzel says as he descends the steps of the back porch to join us. "Can Marlene and I go check out the neighborhood now?"

Denzel and Marlene look at us expectantly. I stand, put my hands in my pockets, and give Tifa a quick glance.

Smiling, Tifa shrugs and says: "Fine with me."

They take off as soon as the words leave her mouth.

"Be back at the bar before dark!" I call, but I don't think they hear me. They are already gone.

Tifa chuckles at my exasperation. "We didn't even get a goodbye."

"Not even from Marlene…" I add, my chest grieving a bit.

Tifa leans back on her elbows, absorbing the afternoon sun. "I guess we should probably get used to that, huh?"

I don't want her to be right, but I know she is. I also know it will be hard for me to let go, especially as they get closer and closer to the age I was when I left to join SOLDIER.

They are kids. Of course, they will transition into those real teenage years. They will get so much of what I missed out on growing up.

I won't spoil that. I want that for them, which cements the fact that this house will be good for them, that we made the right choice. They can start again. This is where they can leave the old darkness behind. A new chapter. A clean slate.

It's a comfort to me. But, on some level, watching them grow will hurt me. I'll suffer through countless sleepless nights. I'll make myself sick with worry. They'll rebel. They will do damage to themselves and others as they learn and explore the ends and outs of who they truly are and will ultimately be. They'll make mistakes. They'll mess up as I have, as we all have. And they will - in turn - teach me in the process. They'll have the lives I've always wondered about. They'll walk paths I didn't take, paths I didn't even know existed. All the what-ifs…

"They'll be fine," Tifa says, reading my mind and extending her hand towards me. "C'mon, sit with me."

I do, settling in behind her. She leans back and conforms to me like I'm her favorite chair. I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her neck, breathing in the very essence of her. Her skin covers in goosebumps, and electricity surges between us.

I ache for her and not just physically. I ache for her in every way you can ache for another person.

Tifa rolls her head back and to the side as she makes a soft, marvelous noise in the back of her throat. My hands instinctively tighten against the fabric of her shirt.

It never fails to amaze me how quickly she can bring my most basic instincts to life. Chemistry has never been a problem for us.

We continue to sit together like that for a while, enjoying our new home, the flowers, and all the elements of spring around us. The air is sickly sweet and thick with tantalizing hopefulness.

Tifa shifts in my arms to look back at me. "What do you want to do tonight? Want to go out to eat?"

Once Tifa started feeling more like herself, I've tried to encourage us to do some fun things together before the baby comes. I thought it would be good for her (and us) since our lives could change forever at any point. So for the past few weeks, we've been doing all kinds of random activities together — anything from horrible board games to impromptu trips to bookstores to an entire three-course meal made entirely of deserts.

In so many ways, I feel closer to her than I ever have.

I smile and brush some of her hair away from her face. "If you feel up to it."

"Oh!" she sits up, eyes sparkling with child-like exhilaration. "I have a better idea. Let's break in the new kitchen and cook together!"

I hesitate because I honestly can't picture how this will play out.

"C'mon! It'll be fun. We've never cooked together before. We can go to the market, get what we need, and make dinner here. The kids will be going back to Seventh Heaven anyway. They can stay there with Barret while we keep working on stuff here."

Tifa is so excited and radiant that I couldn't say no even if I wanted to.

"Okay." I snicker as I surrender. "Let's do it."

"Great! But we have some business to finish up here first." Tifa sits up, grabs my hand, and drags me back into the house. She doesn't say anything, but I can tell by how she's tugging at me what she wants.

Our lips meet as soon as the door shuts behind us. Her hands go into my hair and slide under my shirt where they rake down the muscles of my stomach. My hand goes to the back of her neck, and now I feel like we are the ones experiencing our teenage phase. It's like we have never made out before, like we are anticipating our parents to come home any minute and catch us.

I honestly can't remember the last time we playfully fooled around like this, the last time we were so content with this kind of simple intimacy. In the rampant chaos of daily life, it is so easy to fall into the pattern of reaching the end goal, to push towards the finish line that you forget how much you enjoyed the smaller steps taken to get there. You forget some of the things you used to enjoy, the little things that used to drive you crazy. I can't help but think of the earlier days of our relationship when Tifa and I would sneak into any nook or cranny we could find just to get a quick taste of each other without the kids finding us, afternoons where I'd wrap her legs around me and force her back to the nearest wall while my mouth latched onto her throat, mornings where we'd fumble around in the bathroom fully clothed in pajamas but our hands hungrily climbing underneath shirts and diving into underwear.

Shuddering underneath her touch, I slip my shirt off my head.

Tifa doesn't waste any time. I blink and she has my belt undone.

"We don't have our bed put together yet." I'm breathing so heavy it sounds like I've been doing laps.

She looks up at me mischievously as she unzips my pants. "Who said we needed one?"

I blink, and the Planet goes lust red.

It took us way too long to find clothes — partly because most of our stuff is still in boxes scattered throughout the house and partly because we recklessly abandoned them earlier. I still don't know where my shirt went.

"Never mind. I don't think I want to go to the market anymore," Tifa says as she continues digging around inside boxes.

"Why not?" I try to smooth the wrinkles out of the shirt I managed to find.

"Nothing fits me," she grumbles. I hear more shuffling.

"That's not true," I argue because despite being in the last leg of this pregnancy, Tifa is still in amazing shape like always. She is still tone and lean and probably smaller than she needs to be because of how much she's struggled throughout.

"Fine. Then everything feels weird." Tifa emerges from the closet in a white tank top and overalls, tugging at the straps (which instantly takes me back to her suspender days) and shifting around like her skin itches.

"I understand, but I think you look nice."

"You're just saying that because you got laid, and you're still in a good mood," she says playfully as she brushes past me. I feel that unmistakable static again, and it takes everything I have not to pull her back to me and undress her again.

"I am still in a good mood, but I promise, you look great."

"I guess I'll take your word for it." She casually hauls her long hair into her traditional, low ponytail. "So what do you want to eat? I'm fine with wherever as long as we can make some stir-fry. Oh, or maybe some salmon teriyaki? Pastries sound good too…"

I smile. "Why don't we just walk around the market and make our decision then?"

Ultimately, Tifa decided we would make a meat stir-fry with the Chocobo tarts for dessert.

Tifa has had some cravings, mostly sweet things like cheesecake, ice cream, or fudge. One day she begged me to bring her back mangos from Costa del Sol. She doesn't even like mangos! And this was the first time she has ever spoken of Chocobo tarts, but as we start sorting through all the ingredients we gathered at the market, I can see that she is downright excited to make them.

Personally, I am more comfortable with making the stir fry. Stews have always been my specialty and my comfort zone, especially since stew was always my mom's go-to. So I felt much more equipped to whip up some sauce and boil some vegetables while Tifa played with the tart crust and pastry cream. However, despite how vocal I've been about the fact I do not feel good about going anywhere near that Chocobo tart recipe, Tifa encourages me to participate with her.

"You know-" Tifa places several egg yolks into a bowel "-we have all been so caught up in asking how the baby and I feel that no one is really asking you how you feel."

I add sugar, vanilla, hot milk, and cornstarch to the mix. "It's actually been kinda nice not being the problem child for once."

She chuckles and aggressively whisks it all while I hold the bowel steady for her. "Still, your feelings are still valid and important. So, how are you feeling?"

"I'm not sure." I've been so focused on her, I haven't had much time to reflect on how I feel about, well, everything. "I'm mainly happy you're better."

Tifa nudges her foot against mine. "You have to be feeling something. Are you excited? Scared?"

"It's still surreal, honestly, but I'm probably more nervous than anything." As I say it out loud, I realize how true it is. Now I'm worried about what's going to happen when she gets here. I'm back to worry about how I can screw it all up — screw her up.

"I'm nervous too." Tifa transfers the custard mix into a pot and places it on the stove. "Aerith gave me a lot of peace. I'm excited, but there is still a lot to think about, you know? I'm tired of being pregnant and want her to be here, but I don't feel ready. I guess you never really do, though. I know we've become parents before, but this feels different."

"Yeah." I check the recipe for the tart shell, and since I don't like what I see, I decide to check on the meat stir-fry instead. "It feels different to me too."

She masterfully alternates between whisking the custard mix and toying with temperature settings on the oven. "But we'll be okay."

I smile at her. "I can't tell you how nice it is to hear you say that again."

Her hand goes to my face. "Thanks for being patient and taking care of me."

"I don't think I did a very good job…"

"You did. Trust me. It meant a lot, knowing you were there, holding our family together while I fell apart…"

"If anyone has the right to fall apart, it's you. You've always had to bear more than you should have, mostly because of me." My eyes go to the floor.

"You aren't a burden, Cloud. It wouldn't matter even if you were." Her thumb ghosts along my cheekbone. "I love you."

"I love you," I repeat, my hand covering hers as I melt into her palm. I kiss the underside of her wrist before she pulls away and turns her attention back to the stove.

Since the meat stir-fry is okay and there isn't much else for me to do there, I decide — despite my better judgment — to try the dough for the crust.

"How am I supposed to do this?" I clumsily put sugar and milk into measuring cups.

"Do what?" Tifa turns away from the stove to give me a suspicious glance.

"This dough-crust-pie-looking-thing…"

"You just mix it all until you get coarse crumbs," she says as if it is easy.

I frown. "That doesn't help me."

"Just…re-read the recipe-" Tifa turns her back to me -"I'll help you as soon as I finish the custard."

Checking the recipe again doesn't help me either, so I decide to just put all the shit in the bowl, mix it, and hope for the best.

"It's not doing the crumb thing," I grouse and wipe at my forehead with the inside of my elbow.

"Did you put in flour?"

"I think…" I'm not entirely sure. All the powder-like substances and ingredients are blurring together. Was it flour or sugar? Did I put it in this mix or the custard mix?

"Did you put the egg and milk in?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Before I started mixing it," I admit reluctantly, already anticipating that this was where I went wrong.

Tifa wipes her hands on her belly and looks at the recipe again. "I think you're supposed to do that after it starts to crumb."

I toss the mixer onto the counter, bits of almost-dough flying everywhere.

Tifa bites her bottom lip in an attempt not to laugh.

I put my balled fists on my hips and glare at her once I'm able to pull my glare away from the not-dough-not-crumby-shit I made. "It's not funny."

She chuckles softly. "It's kinda funny."

"I warned you."

"You did. You did warn me." She rests her cheek on my shoulder.

"I killed your tarts."

Tifa laughs again. "You didn't kill my tarts. We might be able to revive them."

The following hour and a half was us attempting to salvage the tart crust. There was a continuous back and forth between Tifa and me where I said it was a lost cause, and she said we could make it work. At one point, I took it from her and tried to throw it in the trash only to have her haul me back to the counter with a surprising amount of force ("Cloud, don't you dare!").

Her persistence has definitely returned. And she doesn't just apply that persistence to me. She has a thing for lost causes, especially after putting a lot of time and effort into one.

We finally got the dough to go together, and once we did, I wrapped it in a ball and threw the damn thing in the fridge.

I lean over the counter and bury my face in my hands. Tifa is cracking up but still pats my back to comfort me.

"Don't make me touch it again," I plead into my palms.

"It wasn't that bad," she teases as she massages my tense shoulders. "And even if the dough doesn't work, we can still eat the berries and the custard. But let's take a break from it and eat your stir-fry."

I agree, and the stir-fry actually makes me feel better. I didn't completely ruin the dinner she had her heart set on.

"This may be the best thing you've ever made," she says as she shovels it into her mouth with gusto.

"Yeah?" I stop eating just to watch her.

"Mm-hmm. You'll have to make it for the others."

I can't keep myself from beaming with pride, like a child who just got praised for cleaning their room on their own.

Tifa slows down and shifts some of the vegetables around in the bowl. "Do you think she's been with Aerith this whole time?"

I put my elbows on the table and lean forward. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Me too." She nods slowly and chuckles. "Do you think she gets tired of always looking out for us?"

"Nah. She always seemed to kind of enjoy it."

"I miss her," she says calmly, her eyes far away and distant. She has never admitted that before - at least not to me. "Even the little things, you know? I forgot how much I just how much enjoyed her presence until I felt it again."

"That's how I felt the last time I saw her. It didn't make me sad, though. I felt…relieved. You know, like she'd given me permission to breathe again?"

"We have a bad habit of holding our breath." She stabs at the last piece of meat but doesn't place it in her mouth. Instead, she taps them thoughtfully against the edge of the bowl.

I laugh dryly. "That is kind of our default, isn't it?"

Tifa shrugs a shoulder. "It's just how our guilt manifests. We get so low we feel like we don't have the right to breathe, to live. We just have to keep reminding each other that we do." She rises to her feet, stretches her arms over her head, and comes over to rub my neck. "But for now, I'm going to check on our dough."

I grimace and throw my head back at the thought of those tarts, but Tifa simply leans down, pushes my hair back, and kisses my forehead.

In the end, we weren't able to save the dough, and I swear off baked goods — specifically any form of tart — for the rest of my life. But the custard is actually really good, so we settle for eating it in a bowl with the berries and powdered sugar while we sit on the floor and mourn the dough. The extra berries eventually became part of a game where we tried to see who could catch the most in their mouth in a row (Tifa being the ultimate victor).

Halfway through cleaning up the kitchen (which was a complete wreck thanks to all our shenanigans that were fun at the time), Tifa throws down the washcloth.

"I say the rest can wait until we come back tomorrow." Tifa flattens her hands on the small of her back and stretches. "Sorry. I'm suddenly really tired and uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable how?"

"Just…uncomfortable… Kinda like…" She stretches back and forth again. "Never mind. Let's just head back to Seventh Heaven."

I start to argue that I can work while she rests in the living room, but I can see that she is wiped. This is more of a command than a suggestion.

Locking the doors behind us, I follow her lead out of the house and back into the well-lit streets.

Tifa's pace is slow, and it only gets slower. I don't say anything about it, though. I figure it is because it's been a long day, so I just slow down too. But she only gets slower and slower until she stops completely.

I stop and turn to face her. "Tifa?"

Her hands go underneath her belly. "Cloud, I think my water broke…"

I feel all my blood rush to my feet. "You think or you know?"

She hesitates, her arms tightening around her stomach. "…I think I know."

I'm frozen. Everything from my brain to every muscle and nerve-ending I have malfunction. I know we need to do something, but I don't know what. We have talked about our plan countless times, but I can't remember anything we discussed. This isn't supposed to be happening now. We're supposed to have weeks of this pregnancy left! Do we go back to the bar? Do we call Barret? Do we call the clinic?

"I'm okay. I can walk back to Seventh Heaven," she says and takes a few reluctant steps forward. "I don't want to call anyone right away anyway. That'll also give us some time to be sure and to…process this." There is worry in her voice despite how hard she is trying to stay calm.

Nodding, I take her hand and don't let go until we get back to the Seventh Heaven. Even then it is hard for me to let go.

"What are you two doing here?" Yuffie finishes making what appears to be some kind of experimental drink at the bar, but her attention is on us. "I figured you'd be working at the new place until late."

I look over at Tifa anxiously.

"Well, baby has other plans." Tifa grimaces slightly, and I rush to her side to help her ease into a chair.

I don't think I have ever seen Yuffie's eyes get so big. "The baby's coming?"

Smiling nervously, Tifa nods.

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

I think we all knew this cliffhanger was coming. It's cliched, but it still felt right to me! Maybe you won't hold the cliched-ness against me because (in my defense) I did provide some much-needed fluff to balance out all the angst I've been dishing out lately. Honestly, it felt strange writing something light-hearted again, but it was a nice change of pace. It did some good for my mental health, so I sincerely hope that it did the same for you. I think we can all appreciate a serotonin boost! :)

Side note: I'm about 75% through the remake. I have a complicated love-hate relationship with it. What I like, I really like, but what I don't like, I really don't like. That said, I have to admit, it is absolutely marvelous to look at. To me, it's worth it just to see this world, and these characters brought back to life once again! But I digress.

As always, thanks again for all the support, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!