Life was falling back into some kind of routine. Almost a week on from their return to Edge, Tifa found herself back behind the bar, drying glasses and slotting them neatly home. The evening's trade was refreshingly steady, leaving her muscles aching and her feet tired. Trouble had so far stayed away from her door.

Reno was also noticeably absent, and she carried that lead weight in her stomach for days. It only grew heavier, the more time passed. The feeling came as a surprise. Things happened so quickly and burned so brightly there was barely a chance to think about it all. The last time she saw him he was barely conscious, strapped to a gurney, and what little information she collected since only left her more worried.

As the last customers nursed their drinks her eyes fell on the scene in the corner booth, where Barret sat playing cards with Denzel and Marlene. The children were laughing breathlessly and his perplexed expression suggested he was having difficulty teaching them the rules of the game. But their bright eyes and smiling faces warmed her, and the relief of having the family back together settled the anxiety that prowled in the back of her mind.

Cloud sat nearby, perched on one of the high stools, observing them. The drink he'd ordered almost an hour ago was still at his elbow, almost untouched. He smiled when Marlene giggled and shook his head firmly when Barret tried to beckon him over to join in, responding with a quip that made the big man throw his head back and laugh.

She emptied the remaining glasses from the dishwasher and finished putting them away. It was a long time since she felt this kind of domestic bliss and she was determined to appreciate it, squashing down the lonely thoughts that otherwise threatened to derail her. Reno may have been missing in action, but her family wasn't.

Movement in her peripheral distracted her, and she looked up as Cloud slipped onto a stool at the bar, drink in hand. "Busy night."

"Yeah." She closed the dishwasher and leaned her elbows on the bar, pointing at his almost full glass. "Don't like it? Want me to make something else?"

"Not that thirsty."

Tifa nodded. An awkward silence filled the air between them, and she busied her hands straightening out the utensils below the bar.

To her surprise, Cloud was the one that broke it. "The Turks stopped by again earlier."

She glanced up sharply, struggling to keep the eagerness out of her expression.

"Rude and Elena," he clarified, and maybe she imagined the way his eyes narrowed slightly. "Still no sign of Erin."

She almost talked herself out of asking, but the question burned on her lips.

"Did they mention Reno?"

She saw it then, the slightly bitter expression that clouded his face.

"Didn't ask."

They'd become a regular presence over the previous days, often arriving unannounced and hanging around a little too long. They felt out of place at first, though Tifa was confident Elena's appearance was causing far less friction than that of Rude's regular cohort. It overjoyed Marlene to see her, and even Barret smiled fondly on the scene when she took the Turk by the hand and marched her away to show her all the pictures she'd drawn.

Tifa found them being there a comfort and a clear sign that Shinra was following through on their promise to help protect the bar. Tensions were high, and the extra eyes helped rather than hindered the sense of normalcy that returned.

Elena knew that Tifa was worried and was forthcoming with information at first when she nervously asked how Reno was doing. Over the last few days, something had changed. Now Elena visibly clammed up, unwilling to impart anything other than he still wasn't back at work.

"It's a relief, isn't it?" She forced a smile, trying to hide her disappointment. "Shinra's really trying to help. Just like they said they would."

Cloud tipped a shoulder in response, barely a shrug, but didn't disagree. "Yeah... Marlene's really taken a shine to them, hasn't she?"

She had. Elena was a clear favourite, but Marlene was even talking to Rude now when he walked through the door. The large man smiled and crouched at her level, softening his tone to speak to her. The image was at odds to the black suit he wore. It wasn't only Reno who'd mellowed out over the years.

Rude and Elena's presence in the bar may have been a relief, but it didn't soothe the ache at his absence. The journey back from Healen Lodge was fraught, Tifa's mind torn between worry over Reno's injuries and concern over the fractious scenes in the run-up to the flight home. Thrown into disarray over Erin's attack on their ranks, the Turks were less willing to tolerate Cid's wisecracks and Barret's sour demeanour, and the strain quickly showed. Determined to keep the peace between the two groups and acting on her impulse to make sure Reno was okay, Tifa insisted on travelling back with the Turks, forcibly reminding her friends they were all on the same side.

"Yuffie has too," said Tifa, thinking back to their chat in the cabin.

When they were preparing to leave Healen, Yuffie noted Elena's worried expression and looped her arm around the Turk's shoulders, loudly assuring her that Reno would be okay. Tifa appreciated her efforts; Elena smiled warmly at the display of solidarity and hugged her back. The others watched from opposing sides with bewildered faces, surprised at the new friendship.

"I noticed. Did I miss something?"

"Girl talk," Tifa said. "It was nice. Reminded me of old times."

"What did Yuffie say to you before we left?"

"Oh? Nothing," she lied, cheeks warming.

Yuffie grabbed Tifa around the neck and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek. "Don't worry, I'll sort 'em out. You look after lover-boy." Tifa could only smile awkwardly in response as she bounded away.

"Barret said she was sick on the chopper," said Cloud, oblivious to the thoughts that brought the flush to her face.

Tifa felt for her. Yuffie's struggle with travel-sickness had become something of a running joke. The girl suffered, whether the journey was by land, air or sea and the flight from Healen was no exception. Tifa's journey home was just as uncomfortable, for far different reasons.

The true extent of Reno's injuries didn't come to light until they were heading into the air over Midgar. Tseng barely spoke a word, despite Elena's attempts to engage him in conversation, and Cloud was equally cagey when pressed for details. When Reno thrashed against his restraints, his eyes rolling back and his mouth twisted into an expression of abject horror, her heart tightened in her chest, at a loss for how to help him. Elena's eyes widened, silently begging Tseng to do something.

He administered a tranquilliser with steady hands, and Reno calmed quickly, slipping into a poor imitation of sleep. But she heard the whimper before he fell still, one that clawed at her, making her eyes burn. "Don't make me do it again."

Tseng caught her eye then, his expression cold, a challenge to her to question what Reno's pleading words meant. She hadn't dared, as realisation trickled through her like cold water. She was the last person to speak to Reno before he took on Erin, alone. She was the reason he got hurt.

"Do you think Reno's okay?"

"He's a Turk," Cloud said, although his voice lacked conviction. "He'll have been in worse states."

"You think so?"

Cloud laughed, though there was little humour in the sound. "We've put him in worse."

Regret surged through her for the past and the present.

"Try not to worry," Cloud continued, trying to reassure her. "He'll be fine."

She couldn't help it, but there were bridges to build, and they needed to start a little closer to home. Tifa knew that this was the first genuine conversation they had in days, and Cloud's willingness to talk wasn't an opportunity she could afford to miss.

She faltered, trying to work out where to start. "At the Lodge…"

"I'm sorry. For what I said." He studied the contents of his glass, tipping the liquid from edge to edge.

"So am I."

Surrounded by family, it was much easier to pick through the thoughts in her head, no longer left to deal with everything alone. Unfortunately, some of those thoughts were easier to stomach than others.

"I miss you," she said. "I miss our friendship."

"Me too." He took a sip of his drink, and she almost smiled at the grimace that crossed his expression. "When I said—"

"It's okay." She knew where this was going and spared him the difficulty of putting a voice to his feelings. "I understand."

She truly did. When she met his eye, the words they'd both avoided for so long ready and waiting to say, she realised they weren't necessary. He knew, just as she did, that they'd always just be friends.

It was a relief. The weight lifted, but it didn't excuse the fairytale she held him to for so long.

She carried on toying with the bar equipment, rolling a jigger slowly from side to side. She avoided the conversation for so long, knowing full well it was going to be difficult.

"I put a lot of pressure on you," she admitted slowly. "I thought that maybe… I thought we were something we weren't. I was so angry every time you left because I thought every time you came back things would be different."

"It took me a long time to work everything out."

Tifa cut off the apology she sensed was coming. "It's me that should be apologising."

He shrugged. "We're both bad at this."

"You left because of me."

"No. I left because of me." The sadness in his aqua eyes broke her heart. "I should've tried to explain. I just..."

"I didn't make it easy." She sighed. "It took me a long time to work things out too."

"I didn't want to hurt you."

She stopped fiddling, dropped the jigger decisively in the small sink near her hip. "I hurt myself."

It was a little while before he spoke again. When he did, the question surprised her. "Do you know what you want?"

She looked at her hands, flexing her fingers. It was a tricky concept, whether she wanted to admit to the truth of the matter or not. Her conversation with the girls had shed a little clarity, but her simmering feelings for Reno were still difficult to dissect.

"A fresh start," she said.

The answer was deliberately vague; the last thing either of them needed was for the conversation to turn into an argument. She tried to think of a way to set it back on track and redirect it from these muddier waters. Again, Cloud was the one that saved her.

"Can I get a beer instead?"

When she looked up, he was holding out his glass with a shy smile. His nervousness in that moment soothed her, reminding her more of the awkward boy she once knew. How typical of Cloud to sit and nurse a drink he didn't like, rather than hurt her feelings. Her lips broke into a smile of her own and she reached for two bottles from the fridge behind her, popping the caps on both and handing one to him.

"Sorry," he said.

She shrugged. "Tastes change."

Movement distracted her as her last customers dropped their used glasses at the end of the bar and bade their farewells. Smiling, she waved back at them, and watched them cross the threshold with slightly unsteady steps. When the door swung shut behind them, Cloud's expression grew more serious.

"I think I'm struggling. I still…" He tailed off, eyes soft, pleading with her to help him. "When Aerith died…"

Tifa felt the shift in dynamic, imagined the shimmer and snap of the tension in the air. Cloud was opening up of his own volition and she was uncertain how to proceed. She chose her words carefully, trying not to spook him.

"It happened so fast. And we knew her such a short time." She reached out and squeezed his arm gently. "She was so bright."

He nodded.

"I miss her too."

"I miss them all. Biggs and Wedge and Jessie… My mom…" His words were heartfelt, jumbled together, his voice broken. "I'm not good at this. When I was in the lab..."

Tifa took a pull from her bottle, taking time to form a response. She was understanding now, the solitude and resentment surrounding his absence almost instantly dissolving as he let her back in. They both lost so much in such a brief space of time, and Cloud… She fought the shiver of revulsion that balanced at the tip of her spine. His four years at Hojo's torturous hands left him ill-prepared to deal with notions such as grief or heartache. Where other men learnt to deal with death and life and love he lay trapped, a specimen in a tube deep underground.

"I was scared," he mumbled, rubbing his thumb over the label on his beer. "I couldn't lose you too."

"You won't."

"I know."

She found she could see the picture clearer now, free from the resentment her previous feelings inspired. Now that she'd released them both from their trappings, it was easier to breathe. Though he needed a friendly ear and a push in the right direction, he'd always talk himself out of asking for it. She'd offer it, regardless.

"You need a coping mechanism." She smiled and playfully tapped the neck of her bottle against the one he held in his hand. "Time for yourself when things get too much."

"What do you do?"

"Me?" She floundered a little. "I guess… I throw myself into working the bar. Tidy up. Take the kids for ice-cream."

"That's not for you," he said, unusually shrewd. "That's helping other people."

"I like to help people," she said, a little defensively.

"Yeah, and who's helping you?"

A picture formed, gut-wrenchingly clear in her mind's eye. Reno, arms wrapped around her, laughing sleepily in her ear. She doubted the affair counted as a suitable coping mechanism either, but his more intimate presence in her life had lifted a lid on something. She just wasn't entirely sure what.

"Maybe I'll start playing the piano again." She forced a laugh. "And you can... draw!"

"Draw?" His expression turned sceptical.

"Marlene will teach you. She'd love that."

"Maybe."

He took a sip from his bottle again before turning it over in his hands, his smile fading slightly as the silence lengthened between them. Recognising the pattern, Tifa waited for the next raindrop to fall.

"I think I liked Aerith," he said eventually.

"I know. I think I always knew."

"I dream about her sometimes…" He frowned. "Maybe I could've..."

"I think she could've loved you too."

He shook his head, though Tifa noted his uncertain smile. "We were too different."

She considered this. "You were friends. It could've grown into something more. And you know what they say about opposites?"

He laughed, and her heart swelled at the sound. "They attract?"

"Exactly."

"Like you and…" He exhaled slowly. "Do you want to talk about him?"

"No," she said, a little too quickly.

"I'm here for you."

She watched him with uncertainty in her eyes. When he finally looked up from the beer bottle, his expression was unusually transparent.

"I didn't react very well," he admitted slowly. "I overreacted, actually. I'm sorry."

She thought of their argument at Healen. "I didn't react very well either."

"The Turks seem to have changed, and maybe they really have. I'm worried about you, that's all."

"You shouldn't worry… I made a mistake."

She heard the hollowness in her tone and knew he picked up on it. How could he believe her words? She wasn't certain she believed them herself.

"You're worried about him."

"He made it clear he's not interested." She started fiddling with her bottle then, smudging the beads of condensation on the glass with her fingertip. "Honestly. I don't want to talk about it."

"Not interested? That's not how it looked to me."

She was about to argue, to question his somewhat cryptic words when a crash outside caught their attention. Across the bar, Tifa saw Marlene's eyes widen and Denzel sit up and pay attention. She caught Barret's eye as he stood alert, his gun-arm already raised. An attack.

"Go to the kids," said Cloud.

Mouth dry, she rounded the bar and took position next to Barret. Her senses were on edge, her nerves rapidly fraying. This was it, the point in time they'd all been watching and waiting for. Panic threatened to boil over, but she choked it down. Her fingers curled into fists as Cloud hefted his sword in his hand and headed for the door.

"About goddamn time," said Barret, his voice a low growl. "Sick of waiting around for these bastards to make a move."

Cloud left, and they waited. Tifa barely dared to draw breath.

The door swung open, kicked aside, and Cloud struggled back through. The limp figure propped against his shoulder was all too recognisable. Black suit, scarlet hair... Barret met Tifa's surprised expression with one of his own before jogging to the door and sliding a meaty arm below Reno's shoulders, assisting Cloud with the dead weight he was carrying.

Barret's face screwed up in an open expression of disgust. "Damn Turk smells like a Wall Market gutter. The hell's he playing at?"

"He was in the street behind the bar," Cloud said as his eyes locked onto Tifa. "He's knocked the bins over. That's what all the noise was."

Tifa approached slowly, her concern for Reno rapidly increasing. She'd seen her fair share of drunks. It was a definite hazard of the job, but this was something a little more sinister than a Friday night reveller wandering home. His lifeless fingers were grazed and bloody, and she could see further splatters of red staining the front of his shirt.

"He's hurt," she said.

She hovered uselessly as they dragged him into one of the corner booths. He tipped sideways as soon as they lowered him onto the leather bench, his face lolling into the upholstery, his arms and legs hanging loosely over the sides.

"He's wasted." Cloud nudged Reno's boot cautiously.

"The kids don't need to see this," said Barret, jerking his head toward the far corner where Marlene and Denzel were keenly watching the scene unfold. He looked to Tifa. "I'll deal with them. You deal with him."

She nodded.

"Come on kids," he said, the cheer in his voice sounding overly forced. "Time for bed."

"Daddy, is he okay?" Marlene peered over the top of the booth.

"Don't you worry, Princess. Tifa's gonna help him." He ruffled Denzel's hair before offering her his hand. "You two get ready for bed and I'll tell you all about the time Uncle Cid damn near fell off the Highwind…"

Tifa watched them retreat before turning to Cloud. "Did Erin do this?"

"I doubt it. See if you can find his PHS and try to call Tseng. I'll get the first-aid kit."

Cloud's willingness to help him was reassuring.

"Can you get some water too?" she asked.

Tifa awkwardly negotiated the corner seat as Cloud retreated, shuffling across the bench to kneel near Reno's head. His eyes were closed, but the erratic rise and fall of his chest suggested he was still awake, even if he wasn't coherent. Dried-on blood marked his chin, a gory trail from a split in his lip, and there was a dirty bruise forming on his cheek. In such close quarters, the tang of liquor was unmistakable in the air.

He looked like he picked a fight and lost. She cautiously brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead and pressed the back of her hand to his skin. It was cool and clammy to touch. His eyes slid open, bloodshot and watery, and he caught her wrist. His fingers dug painfully into her skin as he struggled to focus on her, confusion clear in his expression.

"Reno?"

Recognition crashed over his face when her lips formed his name and he pressed a bloody kiss to the inside of her wrist. The pressure was fleeting, gone in an instant as his fingers fell lax again and his eyes shuddered closed.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

He mumbled something unintelligible and turned his face away.

She patted her hands lightly across his blazer, seeking his PHS. A hard shape in his breast pocket made it seem the likely choice, and she slipped her fingers somewhat guiltily beneath his lapel and retrieved the item.

His hand twitched, trying to bat her away.

"This is for your own good," she reminded him, pressing his index finger to the sensor to gain access to the device. When she released his hand, it fell limp across his chest.

It didn't take long to locate Tseng's number. She tapped dial and held the PHS to her ear. If it surprised the man to hear her voice he didn't show it. One brief and slightly awkward call later and she'd at least secured his absent employee a ride home.

The adrenaline rush subsided as her body accepted they weren't under attack. As she watched Reno's fitful sleep, the hows and whys of his current state started running through her head. She got the impression Tseng was expecting something like this to happen. The drunk sprawled on the bench beside her seemed so at odds to the Turk she knew.

Cloud returned, carrying a slim green case and a glass of water. He set them down on the table next to her and stepped back, arms folded across his chest. The concern in his face was for her, not for Reno.

"He's made a mess out there," he said. "I'll sort it in the morning."

"Thank you."

She found a saline wipe in the kit and tore it open, before turning her attention to the blood-streaked face in front of her. With the dried on gore removed it still wasn't pretty, his face bearing a myriad of cuts and bruises. Whoever he challenged had really gone to town. Tifa wondered what he did to provoke them.

"He's been fighting," said Cloud.

"Looks that way."

"I think…" Cloud stumbled, regrouped. "Whatever happened with Erin… I think it was bad."

She looked up from her ministrations, reaching for another wipe from the kit to deal with the scraped knuckles that he splayed across his chest. "How bad?"

"When we found him, he didn't know where he was." Cloud's expression turned dark. "She got in my head. She made me think Aerith… Maybe she got in his head too."

Reno's desperate plea on the chopper spiralled through her mind. "Don't make me do it again."

When Cloud didn't elaborate further, she turned back to the man lying on the bench in front of her and carried on tending to his injuries. A drunk Reno wasn't a new concept. The months of him wandering through her door had seen him two or three sheets to the wind occasionally, more often than not with Rude in tow. This level of inebriation was something she hadn't witnessed on him, and for a slum bartender, it was all too easy a scenario to picture. People turned to the bottle to drown out the darkness in their heads, despair tipping them into the liquid solace. What was he trying to run from?

"She made my memories into a weapon. Used them against me," Cloud said eventually. "She finds a weakness and exploits it."

"What he said on the helicopter—"

"I heard him. Tseng will know what to do."

Cloud smiled reassuringly before collecting up the scraps and packets she'd left on the table and heading off to bin them. When he didn't immediately return, she looked back to see him tidying up behind the bar. She smiled softly as she turned back to her pseudo-patient, his injured condition calling to every nurturing bone in her body.

Tifa gave into the need to help him, just like she helped everyone else. Settling next to him on the seat, she smoothed his dishevelled hair, fingers brushing lightly against his cheek. The warmth that returned to his skin reassured her and his jaw shifted, angling into her touch. As his breathing softened, she wondered whether her attention would be so welcome once the alcohol left his blood. Their parting words still hurt her, but the recognition in his eyes… the flutter of his lips against her wrist… A small part of her dared to dream.

When Tseng finally arrived, he wasn't impressed.

He stalked into the bar, Rude following close behind. Both men still wore their business attire despite the late hour. Tifa reluctantly untangled her fingers from Reno's hair and removed herself from the booth.

"We tried to help him," she said.

Tseng nodded curtly and gestured to Rude.

Tifa watched as the larger man took hold of one of Reno's limp arms and slung it over his shoulder, hefting him up off the bench like a rag-doll. The movement seemed a little too comfortable to be the first instance, and she wondered just how many times Rude had played out this scenario. She stepped back as Reno's eyes peeled open and he struggled.

"Don't be a jackass," Rude warned.

"Fuck off," he slurred.

"That's real pleasant."

Reno flailed his arms, twisting wildly. His expression turned sullen.

"Reno!"

Though Tifa's encounters with Tseng didn't span a vast timeframe, she didn't think she'd ever seen the man so angry. He narrowed his dark eyes, his lips forming a snarl. It only confirmed her assessment when she noticed Rude's concerned expression, his brows drawn into a frown behind his shades.

Ignoring the fact Reno was barely standing by himself, Tseng shoved him bodily and he staggered backwards. Tifa rushed to his side, aiding Rude in keeping him upright, bracing her hand against his chest. His heartbeat thudded beneath her palm.

"Sir…" said Rude.

"I won't watch you do this to yourself again!" He stepped directly in front of Reno, the look on his face one of pure, unbridled fury. "You are better than this!"

Reno didn't respond, just watched Tseng with red-rimmed eyes and a mutinous expression.

"Get him in the car." Tseng turned on his heel.

She caught Rude's eye and received a wary grimace in return.

"Don't worry," he said. "I've got him."

Tifa slipped out from beneath Reno's arm, watching as Rude staggered slightly under the additional weight and slowly made his toward the exit. Tseng's reaction concerned her, confirming her fears that Reno's inebriation wasn't just a night-on-the-town turned sour.

She took her chances, the ache in her chest forcing her hand. "Director?"

He stopped as Cloud helped Rude negotiate the door.

"What did she do to him?"

The seconds ticked over and he finally turned back, slipping a gloved hand into his jacket and producing a business card. He held it out to her. It was almost identical to the one Reno pressed into her hand so many weeks before.

"Call me if he causes more trouble. I'll deal with him."

She took the card with trembling fingers and tucked it into her pocket. "Tseng…"

"A man can't outrun his demons forever." He scrutinised her for a moment. "I assume he'll tell you, in time."

Tifa watched him leave with barely a nod in Cloud's direction. Worry blossomed in her chest. She'd seen tales like this before; she knew how they ended.

She wasn't certain time was a luxury Reno possessed.