Last Train to Brooklyn

by Somebody's Nightmare

New York City is supposed to be the place of big hopes and even bigger dreams. But when Cloud and Tifa reunite there more than a decade after separating in their hometown in Colorado, they're both surrounded by broken promises and empty wishes. COMPLETE.

9. Ch9 - Free Ourselves From Gravity

Last Train to Brooklyn

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Chapter Nine

Free Ourselves From Gravity

"Mr. Strife?"

Cloud looked up from where he had been leaning against the armrest of a plastic chair in the cardiac wing's waiting area, his chin in his hand. It was late into the afternoon two days after Claudia's surgery, and Cloud and Tifa had visited her each day, only to find that Dr. Donovan was still cautiously keeping her in a state of sedation, allowing her body to heal. Today, they had arrived earlier that morning when Donovan called to inform Cloud that he was ready to awaken Claudia again. They had been waiting all morning for clearance to finally visit her, and Cloud's nerves were bunched up and frayed all along the insides of his limbs.

Tifa had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, her phone gripped tightly in one hand. At the sound of his name, Cloud sat up straight, gently nudging her until she opened her eyes with a yawn. She blinked, sitting up fully, and Cloud looked up to see that Donovan's surgical nurse - her name was Emilia, Cloud had learned - was standing over them with a clipboard and a smile.

"Y-yeah?" he began, and Tifa dropped her hand to his knee.

"Great news," Emilia greeted. "Your mother is awake, and she is doing quite well. You can see her now."

Cloud exhaled, and he felt Tifa's hand squeeze his knee. He pushed up to his feet slowly, his heart thundering in his chest. Tifa was close at his heels, and she took his hand in hers, looking up at him with a smile, her scarlet eyes wistful when they met. Looking down into them, Cloud felt an aura of calmness wash over him, and he nodded, walking hand in hand with her down the hall behind the nurse.

He had to admit that his heart was centered in his throat as he walked through the hallways, his palm beginning to sweat against Tifa's, the fluorescent lighting of the hospital suddenly too bright, the sounds of the doctors and nurses pushing gurneys through the halls and the beeps of equipment suddenly too loud. His mind was still clogged with fear, despite the fact that he had been given every indication that his mother's surgery went well and that she was okay. The truth of the matter was that the past week, while he had found serenity and peace in Tifa's arms, he truly hadn't been able to completely shake the worry that gripped him over his mother's condition. This anxiety continued to live inside of him no matter how hard he worked with Tifa through their brief reprieve of domestic bliss to shove it away.

They rounded a corner and were soon at Claudia's door, the nurse pushing it open, while Cloud felt like his esophagus was stuffed with cotton. His throat was suddenly stiff and dry, and he swallowed painfully, Tifa's hand squeezing his as she followed behind him, knowing the apprehension that was tearing through him.

Sunlight was streaming in thick bands from the twin windows in the room, the blinds pulled up high to let the rays in. Flowers lined the sill, colorful arrangements that Cloud guessed must have been gifted from his mother's friends and coworkers in town. Dr. Donovan was already in the room, alongside another female doctor in a white lab coat.

Cloud followed behind Nurse Emilia, who stepped out of the way, off to the side to inspect some of the equipment by Claudia's bedside. As she moved, Cloud turned and let his eyes fall to the bed in the center of the room, finding his mother sitting up, square in the midst of its blankets.

She was smiling, and her eyes were the brightest, deepest royal blue, a color he hadn't seen in so long. They were even darker than his own, and he realized that he had been separated from his mother for too many stretches of time over the course of the last six years. Watching as her lips turned up and her smile deepened, Cloud felt the pang of guilt return as he realized how long it had been since he had last seen that look on her face, and how close he had come to losing it forever.

When their eyes met, Claudia shifted a little in the bed, sitting up straighter, her loose blond hair fluttering around her shoulders. Cloud thought that she had never looked prettier.

"Cloud!" she exclaimed, and instantly, Cloud was running to her.

Without thinking, he tossed himself into her arms across the bed, and hers were instantly around him as she laughed joyously. Behind him, Tifa remained a pace back, holding her purse in front of her body as she watched with a smile. Cloud realized he was crying elatedly against his mother's neck, and when he felt her laugh again, he pulled back and tried to gather his composure, wiping his eyes with the inside of his wrist.

"Mom," he trilled. "I was so worried about you."

His mother smiled up at him as he sat on the edge of her bed, facing her, and she lifted her palm to his cheek, cupping it gently and giving him a little pat. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm going to be alright."

At this, Donovan cleared his throat, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

"Cloud," he began, and he lifted his hand to the curly-haired, brown-skinned doctor who stood at his left. "This is Dr. Lisa Chowdury. She is your mother's primary care physician."

Cloud just nodded, and Claudia made every effort to sit up even straighter.

Donovan was looking at her now. "Mrs. Strife, as we discussed earlier, your continued health is going to be contingent on your willingness to follow certain nutrition and medical regimens, and to adhere to the recommendations of your doctor," he gestured to Dr. Chowdury, who nodded in agreement.

"Of course," Claudia replied, and Cloud looked at her, a barrage of questions beginning to surface in his mind.

Would he need to watch over his mother and take care of her?

Would he have to move back to Colorado?

What would he do for work?

What about Tifa?

At that last thought, he turned behind him to find Tifa still standing a few feet away, holding her purse in both hands, and when their eyes met, she offered him a small but sunny smile.

Tepidly, Cloud returned it, turning back to his mother and then to the doctors. Suddenly, a whole new set of anxieties were lodging themselves into the ridges of his brain.

"Mrs. Strife," Dr. Chowdury was speaking next, her voice colored with the remnants of a West Indian accent. "As we discussed before, it is important that you keep up with the medication that I prescribe to you for your condition. You will also be required to follow a strict nutrition and exercise plan. But there is no reason that any of this should interrupt your normal daily routine or life."

"I understand," Claudia responded. "I do."

She turned to Cloud, offering him a knowing smile, and she reached over to take his hand and offer it a squeeze.

"Vitals look good," Donovan interjected. "The surgery was quite successful, no significant issues to report. Dr. Chowdury and I think it's wise to keep you for one more night for monitoring, but tomorrow, you'll be ready to go home.

Cloud felt his heart begin to clench tight in his chest.

"Thank you," Claudia replied, but Cloud realized she was looking at him, and not the doctors.

They went on for a bit longer about Claudia's condition and the precautions that she needed to take, including how her pacemaker functioned and how working with a medicinal and nutritional plan, she could continue to live a healthy and active life. Dr. Chowdury advised her that they would begin regular, consistent checkups to monitor her cardiac health over the course of the next six months, and that after that, they could begin to loosen the reigns, as long as she seemed to be improving. Despite the trepidation that had catapulted inside of him again, these words made Cloud feel a little more at ease.

Eventually, the doctors and the nurse left, leaving Cloud and Tifa alone with his mother. He released a heavy sigh, still holding his mother's hand when Claudia leaned over and began to grin brightly.

"Tifa Lockhart?" she asked, and Cloud sat back on the bed and turned, realizing he had never bothered to introduce Tifa or announce her presence since they'd arrived.

He watched Tifa blush, before she shyly took a few steps closer to the bed, tucking her dark hair behind one ear. "Yes, that's me," she replied softly. "I'm so glad you're doing better, Mrs. Strife."

"Please," Claudia waved with a laugh. "Just call me Claudia, sweetheart. And I am so glad to see you. Cloud talked so much about you, about reuniting with you in New York City. I just think it's so romantic! He used to have such a crush on you when he was a kid, you know."

"Mom!" Cloud cried, his cheeks instantly on fire. Claudia only laughed, shaking her head from side to side. He heard Tifa giggle next to him, and then she dropped her hand to his shoulder, giving him a little squeeze, which did nothing to alleviate the way his flesh burned right off of his face.

"Don't be so embarrassed, Cloud," his mother chided him. "Anyway, you've grown to become so beautiful, Tifa. Just like your mother. She would be very proud."

"Thank you," Tifa answered, and Cloud saw her cheeks darken even further, too.

Claudia let out a little sigh, dropping her head back against her pillow. At the sound, Cloud turned to her.

"Mom, I was really scared," he began, almost embarrassed to admit this out loud, but somehow feeling safe in the presence of the two women he loved more than anything else, including his own life. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? Why didn't you follow the doctor's directions when you first were diagnosed?"

Claudia sighed again, turning her gaze to the window, her eyes a little misty and wistful. She seemed to be far away for a moment, before she turned back to Cloud, taking his hand in hers again and squeezing it gently. "I didn't want you to worry, sweetheart," she told him. "And… well, it was difficult for me to come to terms with it, at first. I didn't really believe it. I thought I was too young. I've always been active. It just didn't make any sense. I was in the process of finding a second opinion when this happened."

Cloud looked down at his mother's hand, covering his. She was young, only in her mid-forties. Even her hands were still young, her skin smooth and stretched relatively tight over her knuckles. He thought it was terribly, cruelly unfair that she had to go through this, that her enjoyment and regular routine of life had to be disrupted at such a young age, especially after everything else she had gone through in her life. With his father walking out on her before he was born, with her raising him as a single mother and giving up on her own dreams so that she could sometimes work two jobs to keep him happy and fed with a roof over his head, he realized nothing about life had ever been fair to Claudia Strife.

And she'd never complained about it, ever. Not once.

"Do you need me to stay with you?" Cloud blurted impulsively, covering her hand with his so that hers was sandwiched between both of his. "I can move back to Breckenridge."

He felt Tifa stiffen at his side, turning slightly to face him again. He hadn't mentioned or discussed any of this with her, it all came rolling over his tongue without him thinking about it, knowing that it was time for him to start stepping up, no matter the sacrifice.

But his mother was waving her hand in the air. "Absolutely not," she responded dismissively. "One thing I will not have is anyone, especially not my twenty-four-year-old son, hovering around me like I'm some kind of invalid." She gave him a stern look, but Cloud saw the smirk on her lips. "Besides, you heard the doctors. As long as I stay on top of my medicine and my health, I will be fine."

"But mom," Cloud pouted, and Claudia held up her hand.

"No, Cloud. I won't have you uprooting your entire life just for me, either. I'll be perfectly happy if you just come to visit me more." She offered him another smile, leaning forward a little toward him on the bed. "Besides, how do you think Tifa would feel if you left her all alone in New York?"

Cloud looked down at his hands, feeling his face warm again as if he were standing in front of an open flame. He heard Tifa laugh at his side, her voice carrying that rich, deep cadence that he loved so much.

"I wouldn't mind moving back to Colorado, to be honest," she replied, and for whatever reason, this had her and Claudia both laughing together, while Cloud's heart began to pound at the idea that Tifa would pick up everything and move for him.

"That won't be necessary," Claudia finally said after her laughter had died down. "I will be fine, guys. I have lots of friends in town who will look after me. Linda only lives a couple of blocks away."

Cloud turned to his mother once again, something sharpening into resolve inside of him. "Okay, mom. But you have to promise me that you'll do everything that your doctor says, and if you ever need me, you'll call me right away."

"Of course, sweetheart."

"Promise me, mom."

Claudia's smile deepened as her dark blue eyes connected with her son's, twin pairs of oceanic pools that were dusted with starlight. She nodded.

"I promise, Cloud."

With that, Cloud leaned forward over the bed again and enveloped his mother in a tight hug, Claudia laughing lightly and happily as she held him back.

And Cloud's eyes misted over a little when he felt the soft warmth against his back, realizing that Tifa had sat behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and that she was holding him, too.

---

It was two days later when Cloud and Tifa stood in his mother's living room with their carry-on bags in front of them, hovering by the door but still hesitant to leave. It had now been a full week since Tifa had followed him to Colorado, a full week since he'd learned that his mother might die, a full week where he had torn through so many rollercoasters of emotions it was a wonder his own heart hadn't given out.

Claudia had been released from the hospital the day after the doctors had pulled her from her sedation, as promised, and at present, she sat in front of Cloud on the living room couch, blankets pulled around her. She had lost weight during the entire ordeal; he could see it in the gauntness in her cheeks. But other than that, she was almost completely back to her normal self. Her hair was pulled up high into its characteristic ponytail, the one that Cloud had seen her sport for as long as he could remember, her thick, parted bangs spilling to either side of her face. Her cheeks had recaptured their rosy glow, the same faint pink undertones that matched his own pale skin. Her eyes were sparkling again, bright blue beacons that lit up and danced every time she laughed. Her movements were no longer quite as stiff, and already she had committed to walking daily with Linda Peterson to keep her blood flow going and her heart pumping steadily.

Speaking of Linda Peterson, she was also there, sitting across from Claudia on the couch, a cup of tea in hand. Linda was at least a decade older than Claudia, with dark eyes and sandy brown hair that was full gray at the roots. And for whatever reason, she wore so much makeup that even Cloud had to wonder who she was trying to impress.

"Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride to the airport?" his mother asked, and Cloud shook his head vehemently for the third time.

"No, mom," he answered. "You really shouldn't be driving yet."

Claudia was waving a hand in the air. "Stop worrying, sweetie," she told him. "I'm feeling great."

"I can always give you a ride," Linda offered, and Cloud was instantly shaking his head again. After hearing the way that Linda could talk endlessly about absolutely nothing for hours, that was a bad fucking idea.

"N-no, thanks, though. Our rideshare is already on its way."

It wasn't much later that their ride did arrive, and Claudia was at her feet, walking Cloud and Tifa to the door. They waved goodbye to Linda, who remained on the couch, and then Cloud hovered by the door, the cold Colorado winds behind him as he stared mournfully at his mother, who was shorter than he was and looked up at him with a sad smile on her face.

"You sure you going to be alright, mom?" he asked her, and he realized with a little bit of horror that his voice was shaking.

She offered him another smile, this time gently pushing on his arm. "I'm going to be fine, Cloud. Just call me when you get back to New York." She turned to Tifa next, who was still standing right at Cloud's side, one hand on the handlebar of her suitcase and the other pinning her purse to her hip. "Please, take care of my baby, Tifa."

"I will," Tifa promised, beaming.

Cloud felt his face and neck fill with flames all over again, and it was enough to motivate him to get moving finally.

After their final goodbyes, Cloud and Tifa departed in the vehicle that waited for them at the curb, and they both waved through the glass at Claudia, who remained in the doorway until they had completely disappeared from view. Once they had pulled onto the main highway that curved outside of town, Cloud turned around again and faced forward, expelling a heavy sigh and trying to drain some of the nervous energy that continued to course through his limbs at the thought of leaving his mother alone again.

As if sensing his distress, he felt a sudden warmth on his bicep, and he looked across the backseat to see that Tifa was smiling at him, her hand on his upper arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked him softly, barely audible over the roll of the car's tires on the highway.

He let his eyes hook into hers for a moment, finding eternal pools of calm in those sierra-red depths. His heartbeat slowed a little, and he felt his breath escape in slow, even puffs. He found himself returning her smile with sudden ease, as if he had just become lighter looking into her eyes.

"Yeah," he breathed in response, crossing his arm over his chest so that he could capture her hand in his where it rested on his bicep. "I'm okay."

Within the next two hours, Cloud found himself crowding onto another aircraft that was headed directly to LaGuardia Airport this time. It was early afternoon in Denver, which meant it would be deep into the late evening hours by the time they returned to New York.

He was seated in a middle row seat beside Tifa near the plane's wing, Tifa seated at the window, looking out with her earbuds already on. With his laptop balanced on his lap, Cloud immediately felt cramped, but especially so when a man who smelled strongly of nicotine and coffee took the aisle seat beside him.

"Pardon me," the man drawled with a Northern Texas accent. Cloud was familiar with it; many Southerners from the Lone Star State had often migrated northwest to Colorado.

The man - blond-haired and blue-eyed with a thick, five o'clock shadow - made a big show of stuffing his oversized carry-on into the bin overhead, tossing expletives every five seconds until a flight attendant actually had to come over and gently ask him to stop. He glared at her, then pulled his scarf from his throat and thumped his way into his seat beside Cloud, almost choking him with the scent of cigarette smoke that was embedded into every layer of his leather bomber jacket.

"I hate flying commercial," the man complained in Cloud's direction. Cloud only shrugged; the last thing he wanted was to get roped into a conversation with a stranger. Instantly, he began to fish through his pockets, looking for his own earbuds, dismayed when he couldn't immediately locate them.

The jet was soon taxiing off of the runway, but the man beside him wasn't relenting in conversation. In fact, their ascent into the sky only seemed to spur him on.

"I fly my own planes," the man informed him. "Try not to fly commercial unless I absolutely have to. Unfortunately, trying to take a Cessna to the East Coast from out here ain't exactly the most goddamn practical thing. 'Sides, my wife made me fly with United today. Had some traveler miles or something that she wanted to use up. You know how women are."

Cloud stared straight ahead at the seat in front of him, hoping that if he didn't answer, this would stop. He glanced at Tifa for help, but she had already dozed off with her face pressed to the glass.

The man leaned forward in his seat, glancing at her over Cloud's lap. He let out a brief whistle, and Cloud turned to him with a sharp glare.

"Speaking of," he went on. "That one yours?"

"Yeah," Cloud growled, but the man only laughed, backing away a little at the way that Cloud turned in the tight seat to face him.

"Relax, young blood," the older man guffawed. "She's too young for me, and I got a wife. An annoying ass one, but I got one nonetheless. Never hurt anybody to admire." He shrugged his shoulder roughly against Cloud's, and Cloud was really about to start swearing.

The man was offering him his palm, though. "Cid Highwind."

Cloud just shook his head, not really wanting to entertain this fuckery right now. Where were his goddamn headphones?

"…Cloud Strife," he finally conceded, shaking Cid's hand limply, before turning away to his laptop again, booting up the open word document he had been working on for the last six months.

"Hm," Cid chuckled, sitting back. "What's bringing you out to New York?"

"I live there," Cloud couldn't have replied more straightforwardly.

"Ah," Cid responded. "You look more like a Western kid than one of them slick city boys." Cloud tried not to turn to look at him, knowing that his glare would be nasty. Unfortunately, Cid went on.

"I'm headin' out there for the big hearing," Cid informed him without being asked. "I'll be testifyin'."

"Hearing?" Cloud repeated.

Cid turned to him again, and every time he moved, the waft of cigarette smoke assaulted Cloud again.

"Boy, don't you keep up with the news?" Cid demanded. "The Shinra financial scandal. That company ain't nothing but a bunch of snake oil salesmen and crooks. They got me good, 'bout ten years ago. Swindled me and a bunch of other investors out of millions of fuckin' dollars. That was money I had put away to invest in the private space industry. Was gonna open my own goddamn exploration company. I'm an aeronautical engineer, you know. And my wife, Shera, works for NASA. We had big plans, back in those days. And then, one day, all of our savings, all our money was gone in a goddamn pyramid scheme."

Cloud finally turned to look at him, dumbfounded.

"Forget Elon Musk," Cid said bitterly. "The private space industry shoulda been associated with Cid Highwind."

Cloud thought about this, turning away uncomfortably. He glanced over at Tifa, still sleeping at his side, facing the window. He didn't know a whole lot about white-collar crime and the kind of financial misconduct that Shinra was accused of, but it unnerved him and got under his skin a little bit to know that their behavior had real impacts on real people and not just corporations, if this man's experiences were any indication.

"S-sorry," Cloud found himself stammering.

Cid just shrugged, settling into his seat. Cloud watched him close his eyes, folding his hands over his chest.

"What's done is done, kid," he muttered. "Hopefully, there'll be some justice."

Cloud shrugged, but he realized that Cid had opened his eyes again and was looking at him.

"I might have given up too easy, now that it's all said and done," Cid mused. "I never wanted to regret not having done something later, but here I am. But you - you're still young." He glanced at Cloud's laptop for a moment, then turned to lay back with his eyes closed.

"You're still young," he repeated. "Don't ever give up that easily."

Cloud sat there thinking over his words and considering a reply, but after a moment had passed, he realized that Cid Highwind was snoring beside him.

Cloud dug into his pockets again, finally finding his earbuds in a tangle in the breast pocket of his motorcycle jacket. He put them in, then stared at his laptop's screen as a stream of symphonic heavy metal poured into his ears.

He wrote for the rest of the flight.

---

It was late when Cloud and Tifa finally returned to New York, riding a cab together back to Brooklyn. Tifa had slept the entire flight from Denver, and she was groggy-eyed and silent on their ride home, her phone clutched tight in her hand.

Already, Cloud felt like he was on another side of the planet. The air smelled different, smoggy and fumy, and it was so much darker here in New York than it had been in Colorado, the sky grayed out by pollution. And even though it was just as cold, the winds in the city struck a different chord of frigidity against his flesh, sending a dismal chill into his bones.

Maybe he really wasn't cut out to be a city boy.

He thought again of his mother, and right away, Cloud fished his phone out to text her to let her know they'd touched down safely. She responded after only a few moments, and Cloud smiled down at her response and at the smiley face she'd attached to her message.

He deadened his screen and glanced over at Tifa, who was still quiet beside him. She hadn't said more than a handful of words since they'd arrived, navigating the airport terminals silently at his side with her hand in his. And now, he noticed that her knee began to buckle and sway across the seat, a clear sign that she was filling to the brim with anxiety. It unnerved and upset him.

He thought again to his conversation with the gruff pilot on the plane, about the trouble that Tifa's father had gotten into and how Tifa had dropped everything without a second thought and followed him straight to Colorado in the midst of all of the chaos transpiring in New York. It poked holes in his heart, knowing that they were returning to the source of all of this unease for her, after she had spent the last week helping him work through his own.

He hated himself for sitting there in that backseat, pouring over his words, unable to find the right fucking ones to share to console her.

Their taxi soon stopped on Sterling Place, and Cloud directed the cabbie to stop on Tifa's side of the block. When they arrived, pulling their suitcases out of the car, Cloud closed the door to find Tifa staring up at her brownstone, her hands clenched at her sides.

"Tifa?" he called to her gently, his voice chased by the winds.

She shook her head, and he watched her long, raven hair spill around her shoulders. She turned to him, the moonlight highlighting white sparkles across her irises.

"I can't," she said, then winced, shaking her head again. "I… I don't want to go home yet, Cloud," she told him. "I just…"

He took a step closer, frantic now to do something to make her feel at ease. But thinking wasn't helping him any, so he acted.

He took her wrist in his hand. "You want to stay at my place tonight?" he asked her softly.

She looked up at him, and their eyes met. Hers were glittering, like the carats of rubies that had just been cut for fitting in a ring.

"Okay," she responded.

He nodded, grabbing his suitcase with his free hand and pulling her along, leading her across the street to his apartment. They remained silent as they entered and took the elevator up, Cloud keeping her close to him, hoping that at least their proximity would be some small consolation to her.

Unlocking the door, he hoped to god that Zack hadn't let the apartment turn into a complete pigsty in his absence. He pushed the door open, finding the apartment completely dark. He looked around, then walked down the hall to find Zack's room empty, too.

"Looks like it's just us," he told Tifa with a shrug.

She finally offered him a small smile. "He's probably with Aerith. She texted me that he'd been spending the night lately."

"Perfect," Cloud responded, and seeing the blush in Tifa's cheeks and finding her suddenly adorable, he bent down and pressed a kiss to her nose.

"You hungry?" he asked after her cheeks flooded even brighter.

"A little," she answered.

They ordered Chinese takeout from Cloud's food delivery app, since naturally, there was no fucking food in the apartment again. It appeared that Zack had halfway moved in with Aerith in the last week, because their place almost appeared abandoned.

They sat in the living room and ate quietly together, and Cloud didn't miss the way that Tifa constantly stared down at her phone between bites of her noodles. He wanted to ask her what was going on, if there was anything that he could do to help, but he found himself stagnated, afraid to pry, and he focused on his meal, turning the entire situation over and over in his head.

By the time they finished eating, it was almost eleven, and Tifa was yawning. He let her use the bathroom first, showering after she'd finished, and Cloud was thinking about his next steps now that they'd returned to the city. He would have call his job tomorrow to let them know that he was back and that he was available to pick up shifts again, if they hadn't decided to fire him during his week-long absence. He needed to also make sure that he checked up on his mom, that she was taking her medication and looking after her health and laying off of the rich foods. And he should probably text Zack and let him know that he was home.

He had no idea what Tifa was going to do.

Still damp from his shower, he found her sitting cross-legged on his bed, wearing a cap-sleeved white t-shirt and white panties and nothing else, her hair still thick in dark wet clumps around her shoulders. She was staring down at her phone in her palms, her thumbs scrolling over the display. Her brow was pinched tight as she looked down at it. His room, which was scarcely decorated, was dim; Tifa'd only left on one small bedside light. Artificial light poured in from the window above the bed, washing her already alabaster skin with a pale, white shimmer.

Cloud resisted the urge to moan at her appearance, closing the door softly behind him. He was dressed only in his boxers, and at the sound of the door shutting, Tifa looked up from her phone, her eyes widening slightly when they dropped from his face to his torso.

Cloud couldn't avoid the smug swell of pride that welled up along with the heat in his body when he caught the way her eyes fell on him. He crossed the room, crawling across his bed to her, and as soon as he moved in close, he caught the fresh scents of vanilla and jasmine in her skin. Instantly, he was intoxicated and needed her free of distractions. He leaned over her and plucked her phone out of her hands.

She opened her mouth to protest, but Cloud tossed the phone out of reach to the other side of the mattress, then grabbed her shoulder and pulled her into him, his mouth capturing hers for a kiss.

Instantly, she was leaning into him, relenting to his lips. She parted hers gently, and he could taste her toothpaste, sweet and minty against his tongue as theirs both pressed together. She moaned lightly, and her breath was hot against his teeth, and Cloud laid back across the bed, pulling her on top of him.

Tifa shifted slightly above him until she was fully straddling him, her knees at either side of his waist. He could feel her warm center right over his erection, and he groaned as he pulled apart from their kiss, lifting a palm to her cheek.

"Tifa," he breathed, looking up at her where she hovered above him, her face inches from his. The light in the room illuminated one side of her face, bringing out the deep glimmers that were set in kaleidoscopic patterns around her pupils, while her hair curtained them both in a thick waterfall of licorice. He felt a familiar urge soar through him, thinking about her silence and her phone and the furrow of her brow. It was a deep desire to protect her, to make sure that she was okay, and even if his words failed him, goddamn if he didn't find some way to make her feel better.

"Hm?" she hummed in response, her lips red and wet.

"Are you… are you okay?" he asked her the same question she'd asked him a hundred times in Colorado, and gently, he squeezed her waist, his other hand splaying wide across her back, holding her against him. "You've been really quiet ever since we got back."

Tifa stared into his eyes for a moment, and then she looked down and lowered her forehead to his chest. He felt her damp hair drape across his skin, and the sensation sent a shiver along his spine.

"I just…" she trailed off for a moment, her breath warm over his clavicle. "I guess I'm scared, Cloud. I've been ignoring everyone's calls and texts all week, aside from Aerith's. And then, there's supposed to be this big hearing, and I don't know what my father is going to do, or what is going to happen, and I just don't know how I am going to face anyone or what I should - "

The panic had risen so quickly in her voice that Cloud felt compelled to stop her. "Hey," he called softly, holding her still and tight against him. "It's okay. Whatever happens, Teef, you're gonna be okay. You're strong."

She shook her head against his chest, and he felt her tremble, realizing that she was about to cry.

"Hey, I mean it," he told her, pulling her chin up so that their eyes could meet. She blinked up at him, her eyes misted over, the tears catching in her lashes when she closed her eyes.

"You're strong," he repeated, squeezing her body against his. "And I'll always be here to remind you of that. And anything you think you can't face on your own, I'll be right at your side to help you through."

"Cloud," Tifa whispered in response, smiling at him, and then she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his jaw, warming him over with her affection. "Thank you."

Cloud didn't know why he was blushing. Maybe it was because his own sentiments were affecting him, or maybe it was because she was so damn cute, but he couldn't stop the heat that rose in his cheeks.

He also couldn't ignore the warmth of her body against his, especially where their hips were aligned. At the thought of it, he was lifting his hips up to hers, and she responded by breathing out a moan against his neck.

"You like that?" he whispered up at her, his voice gravel, and she responded with a purr as her hips began to rotate, her lips sneaking kisses along his collar bone. "Maybe we should finish what your father interrupted that night."

He felt her breath as she laughed into his skin, her hands coming up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through the wispy hair there. The feeling of her manicured nails across his scalp sent a wild current through him, and his hands lowered down the back of her body, finding her bottom and grabbing palmfuls of it, pushing her down against his hips as he pushed up again, grinding into her.

"Oh," he heard her cry out after a moment, and the layers of fabric between them were so thin that he could feel himself trapped between her folds, could feel her clit hard on the base of his shaft. He pushed her down harder, and she rotated her hips in sync with his, her keens escalating as the pressure built. Her hands slid away from his neck, down to his shoulders, where she curled her fingertips into the muscles there, causing him to wince as they moved each other closer and closer to the edge.

"Tifa," Cloud suddenly breathed, feeling himself close to coming apart and making a mess in his boxers. He pulled on the waistband of her underwear, releasing it to snap back against her skin.

"Take this off," he growled.

Tifa pushed up and away from him, and he watched her with eyes hooded as she carefully slid her underwear away. When they were gone, she bit her bottom lip and dropped her hands to the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down, his erection sliding out, pink and wet.

"Why do we even bother putting on clothes anymore?" she asked him playfully, crawling back over him.

Cloud held her hips in both hands, starting to laugh in response, but the sound was cut off by a moan of her name when she sank down on his length, filling herself with him. He winced, Tifa dropping her palms flat against his chest, her thumbs ghosting over his nipples, and he tossed his head to one side of the pillow, closing his eyes shut as he gasped, the sensation raising goosebumps along his flesh.

"Goddamnit, fuck, Tifa," he heard himself rumble as Tifa began to ride him, lifting her hips off of him with a grind and dropping back down until she was bouncing in a circular rotation on his cock, her breasts jostled from her movements.

The sounds she made transitioned from throaty gasps to bright whines of his name, her hands still roving his body, singeing his flesh everywhere that she touched. He dug his fingertips into her hips until his nailbeds went pale and white, and he lifted his hips in time with her body to meet hers, forcing her to drop her mouth open with a cry. He grinned at the sight, at the way she threw her head back and exposed her throat, at the way that her nipples strained against the tight knit fabric of the t-shirt she was still wearing. But his grin faltered when she paused, opening her eyes to look down at him, her irises darkened to a cabernet red with lust.

She reached for his left hand that was at her hip, pulling it away, and he watched with fascination as she brought his hand to her mouth, gently and sweetly pressing kisses to the top of his hand and knuckles, along the inside of his wrists and his pulse point, even across the callouses on the underside of his palm. The sensation of her soft lips against his skin sent new conflagrations of heat throughout his body, his dick twitching inside of her even though she had stilled her hips.

Her tongue left a wet trail behind all of her kisses, and he realized that she was gently soaking almost his entire hand, until she brought his fingers up to her mouth. Slowly, she began to suck his index and middle fingers between her lips, dousing them in her saliva as she sealed her mouth around him. Her eyes remained locked with his, and Cloud felt the coil in his belly pull tight, ready to snap, especially when she pulled her lips away from his digits with a pop, moving onto his ring and pinky fingers and finally his thumb.

He continued to watch her, awestruck, until soon he was drenched in her spit from fingertip to wrist, and his heart was a runaway train in his chest, the lower half of his body about to burst apart as he realized she was lowering his sloppy, wet hand between where their bodies were joined.

"Touch me," she purred, her voice thicker, sultrier, and more demanding than he'd ever heard it, and Cloud was sure he smelled smoke from where his brain was fizzling and sparking.

Fuck fuck fuck she's fucking hot.

He didn't have to be told more than once, was more than willing to obey immediately, eager to please. As soon as her hand slipped away, both of them sliding back to find purchase on his abdomen, Cloud immediately got to work, turning his palm upward as he slotted his fingers around the base of his cock, two on each side and his thumb raising up to swipe at her clit. Tifa immediately mewled her reaction, but Cloud only smirked at her, sliding his longer fingers along her folds until he dipped two through her slippery leaking wetness that was coating his entire center, sliding them upward gently and adding to the penetration of his dick inside of her.

"Oh, Cloud, god.." She cried when he thrust up inside of her, the added fullness of his fingers snaking inside her tight passage forcing her to shudder, her nails digging into his chest until she broke the skin when he began to rub the pad of his thumb against her clit in a swift, back and forth motion.

"You asked for it," he tossed back at her, and the moan she responded to him with was sinful.

Emboldened by that, she started to ride him faster, twirling her hips and rocking back and forth, while Cloud kept his thumb against her clit, his fingers still curling against her folds or pressing inside of her. She was whimpering and whining now, her sounds bold and bright and so very loud, and Cloud tried to lean up so he could look her more deeply in her eyes, but his own body was shaking.

"Tifa," he tried instead. "Look at me."

Hearing the deep tenor of his voice, Tifa opened her eyes to meet his again, and as soon as he caught her bubbly red pools, he smiled at her.

Her mouth dropped open, emitting a wail, and then she pinched her eyes closed again and rocked forward over him. Cloud felt all of the tremors in her body, felt the way her walls fluttered and clenched around his cock and his fingers as she screamed through her climax, and the combination of sensations whited out his brain.

He closed his eyes, pulling his hands away to reach up and grab her hips, and senselessly drove up inside of her until he felt the pleasure tear away into a supernova, and he held Tifa firm and close against him as he burst apart inside of her.

She was still whimpering, but Cloud could only hear the sound of his own staggered breathing and his heartbeat slamming right against his chest. After a moment, he opened his eyes to see her still stuttering and sobbing in the aftershocks above him, and he leaned forward and pulled her down to lay across his body.

She instantly snuggled herself to him, her breasts warm and soft on his chest, still trapped beneath the cotton of her shirt. He brought his right hand to the small of her back, holding her and rubbing her consolingly, while he let his wet, messy hand hang off to the side on the bed, unsure of what to do with it. Instead of worrying about it, he held Tifa close and kissed her hair.

"You okay, Teef?" he asked her after a moment.

She was still breathing heavy and ragged, but she managed to look up at him, offering him a tiny smile, her eyelashes wet.

"Y-yeah," she stammered. "That was, um, really hot."

Cloud offered her a smile of his own. "You're really hot."

She giggled, crushing her face into his neck, and he groaned when she kissed and suckled gently at his neck.

He rolled her over, ripping the covers back to pull over her, kissing her on her nose and lips before he pulled away from the bed to turn the light off and wash his hands.

"Go to sleep, Tifa," he whispered, and she closed her eyes, sinking under his covers and settling among the sheets.

He watched her for a moment, her face slipping away into contentment as sleep descended over her in the darkness, and Cloud thought that maybe, she had forgotten her troubles.

At least, for a little while.

---

When Tifa woke early the next morning, she turned to find that she was still laying in an entanglement of limbs with Cloud. His arms were around her upper body, embracing her tightly, and she was holding him around his waist.

She blinked against the sunlight that streamed in from his window, highlighting the sparkles of gold in his fluffy yellow hair. She was compelled to touch it, bringing her hand up to carefully rake her fingers through the soft spikes that framed his face. His cheek was inches from hers on his pillow, and she could hear the soft sounds of his breathing, feeling his gentle exhales against her lips.

She savored those serene moments with him, laying next to him under his sheets in the quiet, early morning hours, his body warm beside hers, for just a few moments. But the longer that she lay there, listening to the sounds of his breathing and the roll of tires on the asphalt outside, the longer that she felt reality creeping back in, a cold snake that was slithering up her spinal cord to wrap around her brain. She glanced at where her phone laid on his bedside table, and she felt the icy claws of dread begin to dig into her heart.

For the past several days in Colorado, the phone calls and the text messages and voicemails had come in and piled, and Tifa had ignored nearly all of them, responding only occasionally to Aerith to let her know that she was still alive. In hindsight, it was probably not the best tactic, but at the time, on the other side of the country with only her relationship with Cloud at the center of her heart and mind, Tifa had made the impulsive decision to keep her phone turned off for most of the time she was out West. When she had turned it back on when they touched down at LaGuardia, she once again found herself overwhelmed by the backlog.

Some of it made her feel a little guilty. Her friends from AVALANCHE, even her next-door neighbor Marle, had left her messages of support and concern. Barret's tone was fatherly and unyielding. Even Elena's texts were filled with worry, and Tifa could just imagine the high pitch of her voice as she demanded to know where Tifa was and why she hadn't come into work. It only brought her fresh anxiety as she realized how terrible she felt inside for disregarding their sentiments, forming a lump in the center of her throat that burned.

Then there were the messages that really sent her heart into a nervous throttle - the cold correspondence from Tseng, the irritated insistence from Rufus, and the persistent pleading from her father. These were the messages that had twisted her insides up and had her not wanting to leave Colorado. She had not been joking when she told Cloud's mom that she would be happy to stay there with them forever.

Unfortunately, that was hopelessly unrealistic, and Tifa knew that she could not run from her problems in perpetuity. She was surprised as it were that her father had not contacted the authorities over her prolonged absence. She wondered if their blow-up over the phone earlier that week had actually been enough to get him to back off a little bit.

Begrudgingly, she sat up slowly in bed, feeling Cloud's arms slip away as she shifted, and she missed his warmth almost immediately. He groaned in annoyance at the loss of her contact, tossing in his sleep and curling closer to her. She smiled, indulging herself in combing her fingers through his hair again before she finally sighed and leaned over him to reach for her phone.

It was a Sunday morning, and Tifa could see a fresh string of missed messages from the night before. Most of them were from her father, but there was also one from Aerith, checking in on her. Tifa opened it, typing in her response.

Tifa: Hey. I'm back. I spent the night at Cloud's. I'll be home in a little while. Are you home?

Aerith: Hey! AT CLOUD'S!? Zack has been staying here almost all week. Yes, I'm home. I'll send him on his way so that you and I can talk when you get here.

Tifa: Lol. Ok

Tifa smiled at the barrage of ridiculous emojis that Aerith latched on to her last text, then sighed and dropped her phone, rubbing gently at her eyes. She felt Cloud stirring at her side, and she turned back to him, finding his blue eyes staring back at her.

"Hey."

"Hey," she whispered back.

His eyes dropped down to where her phone had fallen in her lap, then looked back up at her. "Everything okay?"

He sat up on his elbow, his eyes now tracing her face. The scrutiny made her blush in a way that she thought was silly; after all the intimacy that they'd shared, she didn't understand why she would feel so bashful around him.

"Yeah," she replied after a moment. "I just… I guess I really need to get home."

Cloud brought one hand up to brush along her upper arm, up to her shoulder. She noticed that his eyes were hovering over her breasts before he lifted them to her eyes again.

"Okay," he finally replied. "If you need me, I'm here."

"I know," Tifa responded, feeling her insides pooling again from the warmth that he summoned out of her.

Cloud was pulling on her shoulder, dragging her down to him. "Stay with me for a little while longer? Before you go?"

But before she could answer, the next thing she knew, he had pulled her in for another long kiss and she was under the sheets with him again.

---

It was already mid-morning when Tifa finally managed to tear away from Cloud, showering quickly before grabbing her suitcase and finally leaving his apartment to cross the street to her own. She ran into Zack on her way out, his hair disheveled and a sunny, sloppy grin on his face.

When she returned to her brownstone, she found Aerith right away, sitting in the living room wearing pink and white pajamas, curled up in a blanket with a paperback under her nose. As soon as Tifa gently closed the door behind her, Aerith was at her feet.

"Tifa!" she exclaimed, her jade-green eyes widening, and she quickly crossed the room and enveloped Tifa in a tight hug before she could even set her suitcase down.

"Aerith," Tifa wheezed in response, laughing from her affection.

It was only a moment later that Aerith was pulling on her wrist, dragging her to the couch to sit her down, not even giving Tifa enough time to slide out of her shoes. Tifa found herself being pushed into a seat beside her, and she glanced up at Aerith, finding her friend's eyes sparkling.

"I was so worried about you!" Aerith cried, clasping her hands together in front of her heart. "Are you okay? How is Cloud? How is his mom? I prayed for her every day. I even put out a crystal for her!"

Tifa's head was spinning. "Whoa, Aerith, please, slow down. I'm okay. Cloud, he's okay now. His mom is going to be okay, I think. She just needs to heal and take care of herself. I'm sure Cloud will be so happy to know you were thinking about them."

Aerith just exhaled heavily, her face brightening with a smile.

"I'm so glad everything worked out," Aerith conceded. "You were gone for a week. Did you get to spend time with Cloud?"

"…I did," Tifa answered, hesitant to go down this road.

But Aerith's grin was devilish. "You have to tell me everything, Tifa."

"Everything like what?"

"Tifa!"

Tifa shook her head, blushing and looking away. "Aerith… I went there to support him."

"And I bet you did!" Aerith cried, clapping her hands together, and even Tifa had to laugh at that.

A moment passed while they both giggled, but eventually, they quieted, and the silence in the air began to hang with the frightening certainties that were waiting for her.

"And how are you making out?" Aerith asked her next, her voice quieter and her hands now in her lap. "With your father, and everything that happened with Shinra?"

Tifa stared down at her hands, noticing the rough patches on the tops of her knuckles from all of her training at Zangan's dojo. "I… don't think it's good, Aerith. I fought with my dad on the phone in Colorado. I said some ugly things to him. And Shinra… I don't know what's going to happen. That attorney keeps calling me."

"Your father came by here. Several times, actually."

Tifa sighed, leaning back on the couch. "Of course he did."

Aerith leaned forward. "I know you may not want to hear this, Tifa," she began. "But I really think you should talk to him. You won't be able to move on until you clear the air with him. Especially with everything that is happening with him and Shinra."

Tifa shook her head, closing her eyes in distress. "I don't know, Aerith…"

"Sometimes, Tifa," Aerith went on softly, "Forgiveness is less about the other person, and more about your own peace. And I can feel the turmoil that's still inside of you. You know that you can't ignore your father forever, especially not when he goes to trial."

Tifa opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the ring of her phone at her side. Blinking, she looked down and picked it up, glancing at the display.

"What's wrong?" Aerith asked instantly at the way she grimaced.

"It's that district attorney again," Tifa responded, holding the phone up for Aerith to see.

Aerith slid back on the couch. "You better answer it, Tifa."

Tifa sat up again, her brow furrowed as her thumb hovered over the call display, frozen in terror. She had no idea what to expect when she answered that call, and it sent a cold splash across her nerves.

Finally, though, she slid her thumb across the screen and brought the phone up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Tifa Lockhart?" it was a man's voice, deep, smooth, and polished.

"Yes, this is her."

"Ms. Lockhart, this is US Attorney Reeve Tuesti," he informed her. "How are you today?"

Tifa felt her earlier chills magnify and pulse. "I'm okay," she responded carefully.

"I'm glad to hear that," Reeve continued. "I've been trying to reach you for several days now, and I was beginning to get worried."

Tifa didn't say anything, just glanced across the couch at Aerith, who was clasping her hands together again.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Ms. Lockhart, but I am afraid this is a matter of some urgency. I imagine you have been following the investigation involving your employer, Shinra Capitol and your father, Brian Lockhart?"

Tifa swallowed slowly. "I have," she responded carefully. "But I am no longer employed by Shinra Capitol."

And I'm not even sure if I have a father anymore.

"Oh?" Reeve's voice was surprised by this. "Well, that is interesting to learn. May certainly make things less complicated."

"I'm sorry," Tifa said. "What are you-?"

Reeve cleared his throat, cutting Tifa off. "We need to question you for discovery, Ms. Lockhart, and we will need you to testify. There is a preliminary hearing scheduled for next week as the first step in the judicial process."

"Are you asking me to testify against my father?" Tifa asked, her voice faltering, and Aerith's eyes went wide at her side.

Reeve seemed to detect the shock in her voice, because his own tone took on a stern edge. "Because of the nature of your relationship with Shinra Capitol and some of its employees, including its Vice President, I believe any notions of parent-child privilege are waived in the eyes of the court."

Tifa felt suddenly dizzy. "But what if I don't want to testify?" she heard herself whine, almost like she was thirteen again.

Reeve cleared his throat, softening his tone a bit. "I'd rather not have to subpoena you, Ms. Lockhart. I realize this has been difficult enough as it is for you. My goal here is to make this as painless as possible."

Tifa dropped her head into one hand, shaking it, just as Aerith rested her hand on her arm.

"You'll be receiving a letter via certified mail within the next day with the details of the upcoming hearing," Reeve informed her. "This is not a full trial; it is an opportunity to present the judge with the facts of the case. There will not be a jury or any significant public spectatorship. It is just one of the first steps of many in moving towards trial."

Tifa, who had watched enough police procedurals in her life, was already aware of this and tired of hearing his voice. She sat up straight again, shaking her head.

"Fine."

"Do you have any questions?"

"No," she practically snapped.

Reeve seemed to understand that the conversation had reached its limits. "Very well. I will see you Friday, then, Ms. Lockhart. My office may reach out to you prior to then with other questions as part of the discovery process. Please don't hesitate to call me if you have any questions of your own."

Tifa didn't say anything further, didn't even bother with a goodbye, just disconnected her phone and tossed it onto the couch between her and Aerith, shaking her head as her eyes burned with tears.

"What's happening?" Aerith asked, her hand now on Tifa's knee.

Tifa leaned back into the couch again, blowing her bangs out of her eyes.

"I need to talk to my father."

---

It was only a couple of hours later, the early February sky already darkening, when Tifa found herself in the backseat of a taxi, riding over the Brooklyn Bridge back into Manhattan. She stared out of the window, holding her purse in her lap, watching the skyscrapers stretch by and the crowds ebb and flow through the streets as they soon passed through midtown, en route to the Upper East Side.

Her heart was living in her throat, and the panic that was gripping her nerves had her hands shaking even where she kept them stationary in her lap. After an eternity of sitting at the edge of her bed, deliberating with her phone clutched in her hands, Tifa had finally bitten the bullet and made the decision to call her father, terror clinging to her lungs every time she inhaled as the phone rang, until he finally answered, his frantic voice sending a chill through her spine.

She'd tried to keep their phone conversation cool, but almost instantly, he was offering to send a car to pick her up. She quickly declined, not wanting anything to do with his opulence that she was now certain was funded by fraudulent and criminal activity. Just the thought of it, and the whole big mess that she herself was now tangled into, made her feel sick, and she opted to take a cab instead, her stomach turning over as the taxi began to turn onto Park Avenue.

After everything that had transpired between them, Tifa was dreading this conversation more than anything in recent memory. It was worse than the tug of war she'd felt in her chest before her first day of work at Shinra, was worse than the nauseating dizziness she got whenever Rufus summoned her to his office.

It was a tight, chained-up pit, deep in her belly that she hadn't felt since she'd woke up in a strange hospital bed, only to learn that her mother was dead.

She soon saw her father's complex come into view - the condominium where she had lived in a spacious luxury flat with him when they moved to New York. She stared up at the gleaming, glass and gold encased front door, her chest heavy as she tried to breathe, the cabbie glaring at her through the rearview mirror as he waited for her to depart.

Eventually, she felt her feet moving, carrying her towards the lobby. As soon as she stepped inside, she was assaulted by her memories of living here, of the loneliness and the sadness of those years, her mother buried in the ground and her father buried in his work. Her first year here had been so, so very difficult. A popular, happy kid back in Breckenridge, Tifa struggled to make friends as she tried to complete her eighth-grade year in a new and overbearing city. Other children avoided the despondency that she draped herself in, trying to cope unsuccessfully with the brutal separation from her mother that she was not given a proper convalescence to grieve through. And things had not been much easier in high school, when her father had made the decision to send her to an elite boarding school. Tifa, by then, had learned how to hide her feelings away, had figured out how to channel her depression and her anxiety into her academics and her extracurriculars while the other students and the teachers admired her easygoing nature, her pretty face, and her hardworking, diplomatic attitude. Yet she still struggled to form meaningful bonds with anyone other than Aerith.

She'd missed her home, she'd missed her mom, and she had missed Cloud Strife.

She shook those specters away, waiting for the doorman to buzz her in. Taking the elevator up to her father's flat, she realized that her right leg would not stop trembling, and it took everything out of her to will it to stop as she tried desperately to reclaim her composure.

She knew how swift and tactical her father could be, and she knew that she would not make it out of this conversation with any form of dignity if she did not strengthen her resolve.

Approaching his door, Tifa inhaled a deep breath, raising her fist to knock at his door. But it swung open before she could, and she glanced up to find her father standing in the threshold.

He was more disheveled than Tifa had seen him since her mother died. His face was unshaven, his thick, dark stubble an uneven shadow around the lower half of his face, even his mustache longer and curled and untrimmed. He was wearing a bathrobe over silk pajamas, a ridiculously luxurious ensemble when coupled with the bedraggled state of his dark hair, knotted and wild as if he had not combed it in days. His eyes were glassy and red, appearing that he had not slept in just as long.

"Tifa," he greeted her, his eyes widening, and already she could smell the booze on his breath, heavy and toxic as it wafted and wrapped around her.

She tried not to wince and betray her disgust, tried not to let him see how her hands were shaking. Instead, she breathed in again and nodded, waiting patiently until he finally stepped out of the way, gesturing for her to enter.

She passed the foyer and then stepped into the expansive living room, her eyes sweeping the space as memories returned to her. Nothing had really changed - the couches were still a deep black leather, the carpet a pale slate gray, the electric hearth still in the center of the room, mounted with photos from a life long ago in the past that was set against snowy, periwinkle mountaintops. The floor to ceiling windows on the opposite end of the room still offered the same wide, gleaming view of the Upper East Side and the New York City skyline that she had often stared out at late into the evenings, waiting for her father to come home.

Brian closed the door, and he turned to her, staring at her as if he wanted to do or say something. Tifa heard her heart loud and clear in her throat, and she swallowed to push it back down into her chest.

"…Have a seat. I'll get us something to drink," he said, his voice dry, and before Tifa could protest, he had disappeared into the kitchen.

She sighed, and instead of obeying, began to drift elsewhere throughout the apartment, looking around as she walked. She hadn't returned here since she and Aerith had moved in together over two years ago, and she felt herself drifting into her old bedroom, memories and nostalgia pulling her inside.

She glanced around the large, feminine room, taking in the coral-colored bedding, the cream-colored walls, the lacy, floral curtains. Everything was as it had been before she'd moved out, her desk still against one wall, an old leather punching bag hanging from the ceiling, her walk-in closet still packed with clothes and shoes she'd outgrown. She'd even left up some of her old band posters on the walls.

But even though she'd slept in this room for eight of the last ten years, it had never quite felt like home to her, never felt like her room back in Breckenridge had.

In fact, New York had never quite felt like home, she realized.

She turned, stopping by her dresser to see the collection of photographs that she'd hung up around her vanity mirror years ago, most of them when she was in high school. There were a couple of photos of her with her father, images captured at her high school and college graduations. There were dozens of photos of her and Aerith in their boarding school uniforms, pleated skirts and sweater vests, sitting in the grass in front of the Academy, snapshots taken in front of the lockers. There was a picture of her in her wine-colored prom dress, standing next to a sandy-haired boy who had been nice but not very interesting.

There was a picture of her and Cloud the summer before she started eighth grade and he ninth, and they were standing in front of a tilt-a-whirl at the town fair in Breckenridge. The picture was an old polaroid, and Tifa remembered that it had been Claudia Strife who had taken it, right before she left them for a few hours to hang out together. Tifa remembered feeling like she was grown and on a date, walking side by side with Cloud throughout the park, both of their cheeks tinged with pink as they played games and ate cotton candy and sampled the rides together. She remembered the tilt-a-whirl in particular making Cloud nauseous, and she smiled at the memory.

They both looked so young and small in the photo, Cloud scrawny and slight, a surly look on his face, his hair messy around his head, his gait awkward. Tifa was smiling back at her now older self in the photo, wearing a resplendent, seafoam-green sundress, her eyes bright and her cheeks glowing.

Of course, she had been smiling. It was before Mom had died.

Tifa swiped the picture away from the mirror, dropping it into her purse. She was about to turn away when one last photo caught her attention. At first, Tifa had to do a double-take, thinking the photo was of herself and wondering when she had ever worn bell-bottom jeans. But she quickly realized it was a photo of her mother when she was much younger, taken before Tifa had been born. She was standing in front of a hill in Colorado that was coated with marigold Aspen trees, her raven hair in a willowy blow behind her, crimson eyes shining as she smiled at the camera. The photo was old, frayed at the edges and patches of it beginning to blur and fade. She remembered that her father had given it to her some time after Mom had died, and when they moved to their new place in New York, it had been one of the first photos she had put up.

Stifling back tears, Tifa carefully removed the delicate photo and tucked it into her purse along with the one of her and Cloud.

She wrapped her arms around herself, leaving her bedroom and stepping back into the hall, just as her father returned with an expensive bottle of red wine and two glasses. He placed them on the dining room table, turning up the dimmer on the chandelier lighting, and Tifa raised an eyebrow at him as he pulled out a chair for her to sit.

"Please, Tifa. Join me?"

Tifa inhaled again, trying to will her heart to stop its erratic tempo as she sat in the chair beside him. Her father slid into a seat at the head of the table, pouring the already open cabernet into the glasses. Tifa reached for it hesitantly, hearing her heart in her ears.

Brian brought his glass up for a sip, wiping his mustache with the back of his hand after he drank. He set the glass down, still keeping his eyes on Tifa, and she found herself looking down at the polished wood of his dining room table.

"Tifa." He said after a moment.

Tifa looked up at him again, and he leaned over the table slightly. From where she was sitting, she could smell the alcohol buried in his pores.

"I - I need to apologize to you," he began, looking down and shaking his head. "I've thought about what you said. You were right, sweetheart. And I don't blame you for being angry with me or hating me. I've been a terrible father."

Tifa let out the breath she was holding, still gripping her wine glass, unable to lift it to her lips, her hand was trembling so hard.

Brian shook his head, staring down into his wine. "I know there's no excuse for how I've treated you. But I want you to know that I never did any of this because I wanted to hurt you. I always thought I was doing what was best for you."

Tifa swallowed, feeling a sudden spark of anger somewhere deep in the back of her mind, threatening to tear out of her mouth in an outburst. Thinking back on the last few years, she wondered how he could possibly think such a thing, after the way he'd forced her to give up on her passions, forced her to wear a false persona in front of people she despised, and forced her into the toxic proximity of a man who wore a hidden, icy cruelness beneath the carefully coiffed and painted veneer of wealth and charisma.

"How can you say that?" she finally demurred, speaking for the first time since she'd left the apartment. Her eyes were suddenly burning, and it only piled onto her vexation to realize that she was losing control of her emotions already. "You haven't thought about my feelings in years. You never think to ask me what I want. Ever since mom died, you've made every decision for me. You sent me away to Oakwood Friends Academy without even asking me how I felt about it. You chose my university even though I had been accepted to schools all over the country. Then my master's degree. Then Shinra. And then Rufus."

She spat the last word, its syllables dripping from her tongue like a curse. Brian had been looking into her eyes, but at the mention of the Shinra Vice President, he stiffened slightly and lowered his eyes to his drink again, sipping it quietly.

"You're right, Tifa. I'm sorry."

Tifa folded her arms under her breasts, dumbfounded, and sat back in her chair. She thought about what she could possibly say to him next, but he was sighing and then speaking again.

"The truth is, Tifa, I never knew how to handle anything after your mother died. When she was alive, the only thing I had to worry about was work. I knew that if I provided for you both, that everything would always be okay. Your mother was the light of both of our worlds, Tifa, but she kept mine turning. I had always thought I would go before her. She could never die, not the way that I thought about her in my head."

Tifa swallowed painfully, her throat sandpaper as she stared at her father, finding his dark brown eyes suddenly glassy.

"When she was killed… I didn't know what to do, Tifa. I was devastated, and I blamed myself for the accident. For years, to this day. I had no idea how to raise a young woman, hell, I don't think I could have raised any child without her. But you - it was different. You were so close to your mother, and I couldn't replace that bond. I never knew what to do or to say. All I could do was worry, worry that some poor average sap would try to take advantage of you, would try to ruin your life, or that something might happen to you and I'd lose you like I lost your mother."

"Dad…" Tifa tried, but her father shook his head in contrition, continuing. "So I threw myself into my work, Tifa. Numbers are what I've always known, and I knew that it was the only way I could keep going after Lorelai was gone. The only way I could take care of you. I got carried away, thinking I knew what was best for you."

Tifa couldn't hold the tears back any longer. She shook her head, feeling them spill down her cheeks, and angry and embarrassed, she pressed her knuckles to her cheeks and looked away from him, her bottom lip trembling.

When she said nothing, Brian cleared his throat, drinking again before continuing. "I'm sorry, Tifa. None of this is an excuse. I hope that one day you'll forgive me."

Tifa just wiped her eyes, shaking her head.

"I don't know, dad. I need time." Her mind was now swimming with images of her mother, of the photo that was hidden inside of her bag. None of this was fair, she realized, and she hated the way that she felt her anger at her father slipping away into pity.

She shoved it aside, the emotions making her unstable, wavering where she sat and constricting her throat. Instead, she looked up at him, catching him still staring at her remorsefully, and reminded herself of why she had come here in the first place.

"The district attorney called me," she informed me gravely. "Tuesti. He has demanded that I testify."

At this, Brian expelled a breath, leaning back in his chair, turning away from her with his eyes narrowed.

"Goddamnit."

"Dad," Tifa began again slowly, her voice still quivering, her throat still staked with knives. "I need you to tell me what is going on. The truth."

There was a long pause as Brian waited, before he turned back to her.

"Listen to me, Tifa," he began. "Scarlet and Heidegger… I don't really know what they were into. But we have good attorneys, and I am not concerned. Tseng will be sure to have the case thrown out during next week's hearing. It will never go to trial."

"But why do they want me to testify?" Tifa demanded, unnerved by how he skirted around her underlying question.

Brian shook his head, leaning over the table. "Tifa, you have nothing to be concerned about. None of the work you were involved with during your time with Shinra has anything to do with the ambitions of this fanatical prosecutor. If he is forcing you to testify, simply answer his questions, and be done with it. I can assure you we have nothing to hide."

Tifa narrowed her eyes, watching as her father looked away again into his wine, and something inside of her told her that she shouldn't believe him.

The air grew cool, Brian becoming silent in thought, and Tifa felt the stifling suffocation swirling around her again. She realized suddenly that she needed to get out of this oversized apartment that had been swallowing her alive since she'd moved here a decade ago.

She slid away from the table, rising to her feet. It dawned on her then that she hadn't even taken her coat off once since she'd arrived, that her father hadn't even offered to take it from her.

It was just another small symbol of the distance that had cratered between them, and she wondered then, despite his guilt trip and despite his begging, if they would ever be able to bridge it.

She hadn't even touched her wine.

"I need to get going."

Her father looked up at her, his eyes wet, his nose and cheeks splotchy and ruddy and red. The back of her mind prickled as she wondered how much he had been drinking in the past days.

He nodded, rising and following her to the door, Tifa's heart pounding every step she took across the massive apartment.

When she reached the door, her father stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

"Tifa," he began again, his voice choked. "I want to fix this. You are my daughter, and I love you. I'm sorry."

Tifa stared at him, feeling her eyes begin to flood at the corners again. The walls were starting to close in once more, and she felt deprived of oxygen.

And all she did was slowly nod, turning away from him and almost sprinting for the elevators, fresh tears spilling as she broke into sobs as soon as their doors slid closed.

At least, when she stepped back outside onto Park Avenue's cold, dark sidewalk, she could finally breathe again.

---

Tifa didn't remember ever having been inside of a courtroom before in her life.

Today, though, she was standing in front of the Daniel Patrick Moynihan Courthouse in Manhattan, staring up at its massive pillars of stone and granite and marble, its windows glittering in the bright morning sun. She pulled at the hem of her skirt, a suit that she hadn't worn since she had been working for Shinra.

It was Friday morning, just after nine, and the preliminary hearings into the charges brought against her father and the other members of Shinra Capitol's executive leadership were set to begin in under an hour. Tifa had gone through the entire week feeling the apprehension deep in her bones, unnerved at the prospect of sitting on the stand answering questions about her or her father or anyone else's involvement in Shinra's financial transgressions. Even though Reeve Tuesti had called her earlier that week for initial questioning, giving her a preview of the kinds of things he was interested in learning, Tifa still felt nervous and unprepared for this sort of pressure and spotlight.

Although it was only a preliminary hearing and not the actual trial, the media was out in full force. The scandal and its ripple effect on the financial sector had gotten national attention, and with Rufus being somewhat of a celebrity, even the paparazzi were scouting the territory outside of the courthouse, waiting for the opportunity to snag a candid photo. All of the major cable networks had set up camp, alongside the local news stations, reporters chattering their speculations into their microphones while the cameras rolled.

"Mayor!"

Tifa turned and watched a reporter flag down an elderly man in a dark gray and green suit with a handlebar mustache and wire-framed glasses. He was immediately exasperated at the intrusion, rolling to a stop on his polished oxford heels as he faced the reporter and the accompanying camerawoman.

"What it is?" he sighed.

"We are here with New York City Mayor Domino," the reporter announced to the camera. "Mayor Domino, do you care to comment on today's hearing in the now infamous Shinra financial scandal?"

The Mayor leaned back, offering a grin. "There isn't much to say," he crowed, offering a light chuckle. "I have faith in DA Tuesti. I am certain justice will be served by the time this is all over."

With that, Tifa watched as he turned and made his way up the steps, an aide in a dark suit and boots following behind him.

Cloud was standing at her side, dressed in all black, waiting for her to initiate their stride into the courthouse. He was back to working nights at the energy plant again, and as soon as she told him she would be testifying that morning, he insisted on accompanying her. She hadn't wanted to get him involved - she could only imagine the look on her father's face when he saw them together - but he had not taken no for an answer, and Tifa found herself unwilling to dispute it with him. She knew how badly she needed the emotional support.

"You okay?" Cloud asked her when she continued to hesitate on the curb.

Tifa inhaled the cold February air, nodding her head slowly. "Yeah. I think so."

She tucked her hair behind her ear, then finally took a brave step forward, Cloud a pace behind her as they entered the courthouse.

They settled into seats in the rear of the courtroom, watching as attorneys began to arrive. Despite what Reeve had said, the rows were already packed with spectators, family members and city officials and Shinra employees, although the media was not permitted inside.

It was almost ten when the Shinras began to arrive, her father the first.

He walked through the aisle, pausing when he saw Tifa seated on a bench in the back of the room. He had finally shaved and was dressed in one of his three-piece suits, a navy blue vest over a simple white shirt. His mouth opened as if he were going to say something when his eyes met Tifa's, but then they fell on Cloud, and she saw them narrow as his entire face pinched. Slowly, his mouth closed, and he walked down the aisle to the front of the room to take a seat at the defendant's table.

Rufus and his father were the last to arrive. Heidegger and Scarlet sat up front along with Brian, and when the two Shinra men joined, it was a strange sight to behold to see the entire senior executive team sitting there, bored or annoyed expressions on their faces as they waited to learn if this case was going to progress through to trial.

Rufus did not look at Tifa until he found his seat at the front of the room. As he draped his coat over the back of the chair, he glanced up at her, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before they flickered to where Cloud sat beside her, and he was smirking at her before he turned around and took his seat.

"All rise," a bailiff soon announced. "The Honorable Judge Bugenhagen presiding."

Tifa watched as the judge, a much older man with round-rimmed glasses and a short, round gait, entered in dark robes and took a seat behind the bench. She saw Tseng and Reeve both approach, and there were whispers among the trio, a cross look on Tseng's face as they deliberated. Although she could not hear what was being said, she noted the way that the annoyance spread through Tseng's features as the sidebar conversation went on, the way that Reeve grew ever more smug as Bugenhagen waved his hand in the air, dismissing them both.

She sat back, trying to settle her nerves as she waited, her knee beginning to rock. As soon as it started, Cloud dropped his hand to it, quelling its tremors before he reached up and took her hand in his, and the small gesture injected something soothing inside of her.

The hearing began with a brief opening statement to the judge from Reeve, who extolled Shinra's excess and its bloodsucking behavior on ordinary citizens that resulted in devastating financial losses. He presented his evidence in the form of several financial transactions that were captured by the Securities and Exchange Commission. In the process, he called up several investors to testify, including a gruff Texan pilot who took the stand with an angry look on his face.

"Mr. Highwind," Reeve began. "You've filed suit against Shinra Capitol for securities fraud, alleging that they purposefully defrauded you of over two million dollars. Can you explain to the judge what happened?"

"Course I can," Highwind answered. "I'm an aeronautical engineer by trade, but my wife works for NASA's space research subdivision. Been interested in going to outer space for as long as I could remember. Been saving up money for years to put into the right start-up. Quite a few private space companies out there, you know. Went to Shinra for investment advice. They swindled me outta all of my savings, investing my money into Palmer Space Industries, which went under two weeks later. They kept all of the profit and I kept all of the losses."

"Why would that be their responsibility?" Reeve asked, folding his hands behind his back. "Isn't their job just to advise you as an investor? Surely you understand these investments involve risk."

"They knew the company was goin' under," Cid responded furiously. "It was a goddamn Ponzi scheme."

Bugenhagen slammed his gavel at the swear.

"Do you have any proof of this accusation?" Reeve asked, running a thumb down his goatee.

"I got the emails," Cid answered smugly, sitting back in the chair. "Shinra ain't as airtight as they think they are. Scarlet handled my accounts. Woman's a hot mess if I ever saw one."

"Exhibit B," Reeve offered to the judge, holding up a flash drive and placing it on the evidence table.

Tifa could hear Scarlet gasp and curse all the way in the back of the room, saw the way her spine straightened with a snap.

There was a brief cross-examination from Tseng that left Cid Highwind cussing up a storm in the witness box, Bugenhagen banging his gavel and threatening him with contempt. Eventually, though, Tifa realized that she was being called up to testify next.

Cloud squeezed her hand, nodding his head reassuringly at her as she rose to her feet. It seemed that all of the air had been sucked out of the room when her name was called, and it was so silent as she approached the bench that all she could hear were the sounds of her heels as she crossed the floorboards.

When she sat at the judge's left side, Tifa realized that she was sweating, her brow wet and her blouse damp and sticking to her skin beneath her blazer. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the heat in the room, by the eyes of everyone on her, especially the defendants, her father staring at her mournfully, Tseng's eyes freezing her where she sat, Rufus's blue eyes searing her with a blaze of fire.

She was sworn in, and then Reeve was leaning forward, a soft smile on his face.

"Ms. Lockhart," he began. "Can you tell the court the nature of your working relationship with Shinra Capitol?"

"I began working there this past January," Tifa began slowly, stopping to swallow and wet her throat when she realized her voice sounded cracked. "I was a financial strategist and a performance coach. I was only employed for about a month."

"Hm," Reeve pondered. "You were the personal financial strategist and performance coach for the Vice President, Rufus Shinra, is that right?"

Tifa locked her hands together in her lap, hating that word, and trying to still the tremors that quaked throughout her body. "Y-yes, I was. That was my assignment."

"I see. It seems that you had a number of conflicts of interests in your role, did you not?"

Tifa blinked. "What do you…?"

"Isn't it true you were dating Rufus Shinra?"

Tifa felt as if she had been slapped, and she sat up straighter, instantly hot with anger and embarrassment. Her eyes went first to Cloud, whose blue eyes were piercing her from where he stared ahead in her direction, until she dashed her glare to Rufus, who was smirking so hard with his chin in his hand, he was practically grinning.

"I never dated Rufus," Tifa immediately declared, summoning all of the resolve she could muster into her voice. "Our relationship was strictly professional."

Reeve had begun to pace slowly in front of the witness box, a hand at his chin as if in deep thought. "Is that right? Isn't it true you were seen taking lunch together several times, including at the very exclusive, very expensive, very romantic rooftop restaurant, Manhatta?"

Tifa felt her face fill with fire, felt her body suddenly pulse with rage, a fist clenching the center of her gut. She didn't dare look at Cloud, filled with shame and fury. She did chance another look at Rufus, sending him a glare of pure hate and death, but he continued to appear amused.

"It was a business lunch," Tifa replied through harshly gritted teeth.

"Ah," Reeve conceded, and mercifully, he didn't push the issue, though, to Tifa, the damage had been done. The experiences she had hated the most about her time working for Shinra and her father's pressure on her had been bared for the entire world to see.

She really didn't know if she would ever be able to forgive him, no matter what Aerith said.

"Let's talk about the firm's Chief Financial Officer, Brian Lockhart," Reeve continued. "What is your relationship with him, Ms. Lockhart?"

The way that he stressed her surname had her rolling her eyes. "He is my father," she stated, matter-of-factly.

"Well, that is interesting," Reeve speculated. "Such close relationships you have with two of the top men in executive leadership at this company. Surely this must lend you to some knowledge of their work with their investment accounts?"

"Objection," Tseng was at his feet, but Bugenhagen was waving his hand.

"Overruled," he said. "Ho, ho, the prosecution may continue."

"Ms. Lockhart?" Reeve prompted.

Tifa shook her head, the anger bubbling up again, anger at finding herself in this horrible position, anger that had it been her very own father who led her here and who sat across the room at the defense table, seemingly more worried about himself than about her.

"I was not involved in any of my father's work," Tifa responded carefully. "And the work I did for Rufus was limited to simple trades and handling of client accounts."

"What can you tell me about the CorelCorp transactions on January 15 th ?"

Tifa felt herself stiffen, and she could feel Rufus' eyes, lasers on her face.

"Please remember that you are under oath," Reeve reminded her when she hesitated.

Tifa swallowed carefully, remembering the strange prickles at the back of her brain during her conversation with Rufus and his team when they discussed CorelCorp, how she thought it was odd that he already knew things that were happening before they had been announced on the trading floors.

"He asked us to sell," she responded carefully. "It seemed like a reasonable directive at the time."

"That is interesting," Reeve remarked, tapping his chin. "Considering that CorelCorp did not fold until January 17 th ."

Tifa said nothing.

Reeve turned to Bugenhagen. "No further questions, your honor."

Tifa's heart was pounding so loudly that she almost couldn't hear anything happening around her. Tseng declined a cross-examination, likely knowing he would get nothing useful out of her after that, and for that, she was grateful.

Her legs trembling, she carefully navigated her way out of the witness box, her eyes meeting Rufus' glare as she passed him on her way to the back of the room.

When she sat beside Cloud, his body was stiff, and the anxiety and the terror that was already living inside of her only managed to quadruple, and Tifa found herself wondering how she was going to explain what had just transpired without sounding completely pathetic.

She was unable to concentrate for the remainder of the hearing. Several other witnesses were called, including Elena, whose honesty did not help Shinra's case, and Reno, who was belligerent and was threatened with contempt by Judge Bugenhagen several times for his behavior. Tseng tried to decry the entire investigation as the machinations of an overzealous, power-hungry prosecutor who was more focused on his political aspirations than justice or the law, claiming that his evidence had been flimsy, weak, or nonexistent.

In the end, though, Bugenhagen leaned over the bench, peering down at both parties.

"Ho, ho. I will be honest," he began, "That when this arrived on my docket, I was sure that this case was headed for dismissal. However, after hearing the evidence presented by both sides of this case today, I am of the opinion that this must be tried in open court."

There was a collection of gasps throughout the courtroom, including a wild cry from Scarlet's throat in the front of the room.

"We will set a date for trial, no later than early summer. That should be plenty of time for both sides to prepare. Defendants are not to leave the country and should be considered flight risks." He slammed his gavel again. "Adjourned."

Tifa felt as if she were stuck in time as everyone moved around her. She heard the swears from the Shinra table, saw the way her father shook his head in despair as he rose from his seat. Tifa didn't move as the courtroom emptied, and when her father passed in the aisle, he stopped by her and looked down at her, his eyes glancing at Cloud, who remained rooted at her side. He ran a hand over his mustache as he looked back at her.

"Tifa…"

But Tifa only shook her head and tore her eyes away from his, feeling them fill and spill with tears.

Her father left without a word, and Tifa kept her head down, the salty wetness now running silently down her cheeks.

"Tifa?" she heard Cloud's voice after long moments.

She wiped her eyes, finally turning to him. He was looking at her with his head tilted to one side.

"Oh, I'm sorry Cloud," she cried, feeling a fresh gush come on as she thought about her questioning under Reeve, of the hot embarrassment, and how everything was just continuing to fall apart around her. "I never dated Rufus, I swear. He was always trying, and I always turned him down, and I - "

"I know, Tifa," Cloud cut her off, one hand reaching for hers, the other cupping her cheek and brushing the tears away. "I know. I'm not worried about Rufus."

Tifa only smiled, leaning her face into his hand, and soon, Cloud's arm was wrapped around her, holding her close as she closed her eyes and let the tears fall.

They remained there, close to one another, until a bailiff finally came and asked them to leave.

---

Over the next stretch of weeks, Cloud found himself falling back into a somewhat normal routine. He returned to his boring ass job, watching trucks haul energy supplies past his glass booth at late, dark hours of the night. In the fallout of the Shinra hearing, he stayed close to Tifa, and she would frequently spend the night at his apartment, though he'd yet to stay over at hers. He tried to comfort her, especially as he watched her navigate a difficult relationship with her father while he awaited trial, frequently having to console her after she tried to have a reconciling conversation with him that never really went the way that she hoped.

Cloud thought that maybe Tifa's father was beyond redemption, but he didn't dare say that to her, knowing how much hope she still held onto that things would be okay between them. Besides, he was hardly an authority on fathers. His had abandoned him before he'd even been born.

All he could do for her was offer a listening ear, a warm shoulder, and the rest of his body to distract her.

Fortunately, AVALANCHE became a small blessing in both their lives. With the fallout of Tifa's short-lived stint with Shinra now in the past, Barret immediately offered her a job both managing Seventh Heaven full-time and running his nonprofit's financial apparatus. He couldn't pay nearly as much as Tifa had been earning on Wall Street, but Tifa had hardly cared about the money. Cloud watched her eyes light up with new happiness, and he was just glad that he was able to walk home with her at night and take the trains with her after work again.

Her friends, he realized, were his friends now too, and now that he and Tifa were comfortably and openly a couple, he found himself spending more time with Tifa and Aerith, Zack, Biggs, Jessie, Barret, and the rest of the AVALANCHE crew. He had even started to join Tifa in volunteering with them regularly, finding himself developing an unexpectedly close friendship with Biggs. And he almost didn't mind their teasing anymore, in fact, he felt a little smug about all of it.

As far as he was concerned, men and women couldn't just be friends, and Jessie had been more than ecstatic when he finally admitted that he agreed with her.

He spoke to his mother often, still worried about her health but happy to hear her voice vibrant on the phone, free of her earlier wheezing and coughing. He tried to call her at least twice a week, and he texted her daily, and she was so enamored by his concern, but a little overwhelmed by it.

"Don't you have a book to write, sweetheart?" she had chided him one afternoon. "And that beautiful girlfriend. Spend time with her."

Fortunately for Cloud, that wasn't a problem at all. He spent plenty of time with Tifa; if they weren't working or volunteering with AVALANCHE or hanging out with their friends, they were spending time, alone at last, together. When they weren't indulging each other physically, they were encouraging each other through all of their struggles, Cloud listening as Tifa complained about her father, Tifa talking Cloud through his headaches and nightmarish flashbacks from the war until the hurt that remained from those days began to dull. She even helped him look over the draft of the novel he'd been working on, that he'd come close to finishing on the flight from Denver, offering him feedback and bragging to their friends about how good his book was and how she had been the first to read it.

She was so encouraging, in fact, that by mid-spring, Cloud had found the confidence to email his draft to several publishing houses in the city.

It was late April, the New York weather warm and wet with the advent of spring when Cloud and Tifa went to see their first Broadway play together. Jessie had gotten her first starring role in a production of Wicked, and they'd gone on opening night to see her performance. It was late in the evening when they returned to Brooklyn, Tifa's arm threaded through Cloud's as they walked side-by-side down Sterling Place. Cloud could smell the cherry scent of her lip gloss from where she leaned against him. Her hair was pulled up high in a ponytail, highlighting the definition of her cheekbones, and Cloud realized that it was his favorite way that she wore her hair.

They were nearing her brownstone when Cloud saw a pair of headlights cut on at the curb in front of her building, and he narrowed his eyes as they approached, realizing that there was a black stretch limousine in front of her building. Tifa's footsteps began to slow, and Cloud turned back to look at her as their arms separated, finding her coming to a pause on the sidewalk.

"Tifa…?" he started, until he heard a car door slam and turned around again.

Rufus Shinra had climbed out of the vehicle, and with the spring weather, was wearing a three-piece, white linen suit, along with a deep smirk on his face. He was carrying a bouquet of white roses that were interspersed by red carnations, and Cloud narrowed his eyes as he watched Rufus push off of the curb and approach.

Rufus leveled his gaze at Cloud for just a moment, a challenging spark igniting behind the icy blue in his eyes, before he turned his attention to Tifa, who seemed frozen now in place. Without waiting for a reaction, he stepped up to them both.

"Tifa," he began, ignoring Cloud completely. "It's so good to see you. I was hoping to catch you alone."

"What do you want, Rufus?" Tifa immediately demanded, her voice sharp.

"It's been a while," he answered with a light, amused lilt, raising one hand in the air. "We haven't had a chance to… catch up since everything happened. The trial is in a couple of months, and I thought it might be a good idea for us to reconnect."

"Forget it," Tifa said, and she stepped forward, looping her arm through Cloud's again.

Rufus chuckled, and the sound made Cloud's entire body flare with anger, clenching his fists at his sides.

"You know, I'm not upset about the hearing, Tifa," Rufus continued, taking another dangerous step forward. "I understand that that government lawyer cornered you. But why don't you let me show you how much I forgive you?"

Cloud was now stepping forward, the cords in his neck popping, his blood pressure rising. "I think she said no," he growled, and he was less than half a foot away from Rufus' face. "Back. Off."

But Rufus only laughed again, sidestepping Cloud to make his way around him to Tifa.

"Oh, please. Tifa, you know that I know that you are far too good for this. I don't mind you entertaining your boy toys from time to time, but - "

Rufus's words were cut off by a loud crack, the sound of his jaw snapping when Cloud's fist connected with the side of his face. The flowers careened and crashed to the concrete in a wide spill, petals scattering like snowflakes and blood against the dirt.

"Cloud!" Tifa's hands were covering her mouth, and Rufus was bent over at the waist, holding his face in both hands, spitting blood to the ground and cursing a blue streak.

"You…" he tried before groaning in pain and losing a tooth to the sidewalk.

"Sir!" Another car door opened, and this time Tseng emerged, instantly rushing to Rufus' side, taking him by the shoulders and turning him towards him to assess the damage. Rufus was still swearing angrily, but he couldn't seem to stand upright. Tseng looked up and shot a nasty glare at Cloud and Tifa.

"You better hope there is no serious injury," he threatened, "Or you will be hearing from our legal team."

Cloud just shrugged, not really giving a fuck.

He wrapped his arm around Tifa, who was still stunned with her hands covering her face, and they both watched as Tseng led Rufus back inside the car, the limo disappearing without another word exchanged between any of them.

Cloud shook his hand out finally, feeling the sting of Rufus' hard mandible against his knuckles.

Suddenly, Tifa was facing him, pulling on the lapels of his jacket.

"Want to stay over tonight?"

---

Aerith was home, it was a Sunday night and she was grading papers in the dining room, but as soon as she saw Tifa appear with Cloud in tow, she made herself scarce and disappeared into her bedroom.

Cloud didn't have a chance to say a word to her or anything much at all, Tifa was pulling him by the wrist so swiftly into her bedroom. He'd been to her apartment plenty of times, but he'd yet to really spend any time in her bed and he hadn't yet spent the night. She made him kick his shoes off by the door and leave his jacket in the foyer, before she dragged him through the house and pushed him into her room.

As soon as she closed the door, Tifa shoved him onto the bed, and Cloud fell back, letting out a heavy breath as his heart began to pound and his entire body electrified.

"Fuck," she said, and Cloud's eyebrows instantly went up at her language, watching as she bit her bottom lip between her teeth. "You are so hot."

He couldn't stop himself from grinning, but he really lost it when Tifa crossed the room and dropped between his knees, instantly reaching for his buckle. Without thinking, Cloud reacted by lifting his hips, her name falling from his lips.

"Teef…" Already, he was as hard steel, but when her hand freed him from the confines of his boxers, he shifted and groaned in disbelief at the stiff strain he was feeling.

She looked up into his eyes as her fist slid over his skin a few times, her pumps tight and swift, swirling fat beads of precum beneath her fingers. He stared back at her, watching the raspberry swirl in her irises, until her glossy wet lips parted and she dropped her mouth to the head of his cock, enveloping it in her wet warmth, her tongue swirling over his sensitive flesh.

As she began to suck and lick at him, her mouth hollowing and putting pressure on every part of him that she could fit, the sensation was enough to make him dizzy. Cloud winced, leaning his head to one side and closing one eye, dropping his palms to the bed as his hips began to rise again, involuntarily.

"Teee…faa…" he moaned loudly, closing both eyes now and looking away from her, one hand coming around to the back of her head and grabbing her ponytail. At this, he felt Tifa laugh against his flesh, and then she pulled her throat and mouth away from him with a pop.

"Hmm," she purred, rising to her feet. Cloud was moments away from bursting, and he relented in his staggered state of arousal, finally opening his eyes to look up to her.

"Tifa," he warned, but she was smirking at him, looking down at him through her lashes.

"Fuck me, Cloud."

Cloud knew how to follow instructions well. He promptly got to his feet, turning around and pushing Tifa face-first toward the bed. She was wearing a dress, this time one made out of a soft, cotton material to match the spring weather, and of course, she'd highlighted everything with a pair of those fucking thigh highs that drove him crazy every time.

Goddamnit.

She fell forward onto the bed with her ass in the air, emitting a sharp cooing sound. Cloud immediately hiked the skirt of her dress up to her waist, pulling her panties down to her knees and not bothering to go any further than that. He dropped his own pants before he leaned over her from behind, sliding one hand between her legs, his fingers gliding between her seam and finding her entire pussy slippery and dripping.

"Jesus, fuck, Teef." Cloud's voice was pure gravel, thick and dark with lust. "You're fucking soaked."

"It's been like that since you broke Rufus' jaw," Tifa admitted with a laugh from where her face was pressed to the mattress, and Cloud groaned, feeling his dick twitch against the back of her thigh.

In response, he slid his hand forward until his fingertips found her hard, swollen little clit, soaking it with her arousal before he began to stroke it with wide, firm circles. Tifa started to moan, the high-pitched, keening sound he knew he could pull out of her whenever he touched her this way, her ankles spreading even wider for him.

"Oh, Cloud," she whined. "Yes… please. Please, please, please…"

Cloud laughed, thinking Rufus Shinra would never get to hear her make these noises. Ever.

He pulled his hand away just long enough to bring it around to her front, the pads of his fingers quickly recapturing her clit and finding new ways to flick and swipe and rub at it, while he sank his entire cock inside of her. She cried his name as soon as he hit her farthest wall, and Cloud dropped his free hand to her hip, holding her tight in place as he fucked her hard until she was sputtering and screaming, his fingers never leaving her most sensitive, throbbing spot.

It didn't take long for both of them to surrender, and Cloud spilled hot inside of her as Tifa whimpered and shouted. Cloud pulled out of her just in time to watch his spend slide out of her, and brought both hands to her rear, holding her apart so that he could watch it drip, his vision hazy around the borders from his own release.

After a moment, he realized that his legs could no longer hold him up, and he collapsed on the bed beside Tifa, who was still lying on her belly, her breathing hard and ragged, her face covered with sweat, her eyes wet around her lashes, a string a drool escaping her lips. Their eyes met after a moment, and soon, they were both laughing for reasons neither could understand nor articulate.

After a moment, Tifa leaned forward and gave Cloud a sweet, chaste kiss on the lips, before she fell back with a smile.

"I love you, Cloud," she told him, her words brimmed with affection, and Cloud felt his insides heat up all over again.

"I love you, too, Tifa," he rejoined, bringing his hand up to brush her sweaty bangs out of her face "But I think Aerith may have heard us."

"She'll get over it," Tifa laughed, pushing up from the bed, righting her clothes before she grabbed his wrist. "Come on, let's go shower. You can sleep naked tonight."

Cloud grinned, almost tripping over his pants that were still around his ankles as she dragged him along, toward the bathroom.

Hell, yeah.