Soldier

When a stubborn restlessness settled in at his core, Cloud busied himself to stay focused.

The simple, mindless chore of the dusty rafters drifted to the forefront of his mind once Tifa pulled her vehicle from the garage, leaving ample space for the ladder he would inevitably need to complete it. The dust clinging overhead had piled up over time, creating a thick sheet of gray sitting atop the high beams. Each waft of air disturbed the layer, breaking off bits and pieces, releasing them in a whirlwind throughout the space.

It was time to expunge it.

Cloud was honest with himself now, and such mundane tasks allowed him the time to try to work through another problem he had no tools to fix. He found himself stuck within the muck of his own thoughts, utterly paralyzed by them.

Tifa revealed much of her thoughts and feelings to him with the help of liquid truth, and he wondered if she would have been so forthcoming without it. Through her out-pour of emotions that came like a tumultuous waterfall of sorrow, he could see clearly it was not only his departure that left painful scars, but a life void of choice that cut her deep. He felt those heart wrenching admissions within his chest, birthing an unrelenting ache. His need to fix everything which was broken called out to him obsessively. But it was that slip of parchment, that handwritten document of her deepest desires, still likely sitting upon her nightstand, that told the unmistakable truth of it all. One specific item was enough for him to understand the affections for another ran much deeper than surface level. He couldn't help but wonder for how long.

There was nothing he wanted more than to save her, but with no tangible adversary to fight he was a soldier without a target, without an executable mission—there was no monster to slay, no artifact to collect, no one to overthrow. He was lost without a purpose, and his hands itched to do something, anything to ease the desire to fight a battle he couldn't see.

The magnetic pull of the road called to him again, yet he ignored it. They needed him here, for now, and he would oblige the wordless request.

The ladder shook slightly beneath his weight as he ascended the steps, carefully securing his foothold as he took one after another. He held a small vacuum in one hand and its nozzle in the other, his weight leaning forward to maintain an even distribution. Denzel stood at the base, holding firm to the steel legs, keeping it in place. His insistence to be helpful was difficult to dissuade, so he didn't bother. Marlene was more than capable of occupying herself with her portraits in the other room, anyway.

While Tifa appeared to be successfully hiding her emotions, Denzel's spirits were visibly higher than before. No longer did he carry a cold, downtrodden air when the truth of a dark deed from his past was broken to him. Something that would have taken most adults weeks, months, or perhaps a lifetime to slough through took the boy a couple days to reconcile with. Cloud wasn't certain he was convinced, but if those demons still haunted him there was little indication of their existence. He was becoming a bit like Tifa in that regard, and it worried him more than it should.

His thumb hovered over the switch for the vacuum as he heard Denzel speak from below. "Why are you cleaning up there, anyway? No one sees it."

Cloud set it at the top step and peered down at him. "Well, sometimes you have to clean things that no one sees."

"Why?" Large, blue eyes slightly narrowed with the query.

"Just because you don't see it doesn't mean it's not affecting you or someone else."

"But it's just dust."

Cloud gave a small sigh along with a patient smile. He suddenly realized how much he missed such teaching moments, even if they could be grating encounters. He wondered if his mother had felt the same way with his own questions. It suddenly bothered him he'd never be able to ask her. Dark thoughts of the past came spiraling forward and pushed through them to revisit the present. "Every time the garage door opens and there's a breeze or something, the dust flies everywhere. It can get on your clothes, in your hair, in your mouth."

"Oh." Denzel's face relaxed, the dawn of understanding clear in his expression. "That makes sense."

When the inquiries seemed to end, Cloud flipped the switch. The sound of the motor rumbled throughout the garage, the powerful buzz of it rippling from his palm to his shoulder. With the nozzle held firmly in his grip, he positioned the flat of it against the beam and pulled the offending gray matter into its canister. It didn't stand a chance.

The battle against the dust bunnies was the only battle he had to fight for the moment.

With half of the first beam cleared, he shut the motor off and made his descent from the ladder, vacuum in tow.

"I could do that," Denzel said once he reached the bottom.

Cloud set the vacuum down and gripped two legs of the ladder. "Maybe, but I think you might be a little too short right now."

Denzel positioned himself in place on the opposite side, and the two lifted the ladder, moving it over to reach the rest of the beam. "I'm growing pretty fast, though."

"Yeah, you are. Next time." He left the ladder and crossed the room to retrieve the vacuum.

"Like when you leave?"

Cloud paused, reflecting on the statement. There was no ruefulness to it, just acceptance. The expectation of his eventual departure had evidently been thoroughly sewn into his mind. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, but there was comfort in knowing he had no plans to leave any time soon. "You don't have to take on so much responsibility you know."

"I know, that's what Tifa said. She wants me to be a kid. But someone has to help her."

"I think you're helping her by doing what she asks."

A notable pensiveness suddenly washed over his visage while gripping the ladder, holding it steady. "She doesn't really ask, though."

Moving back to the ladder, he gave Denzel a look of consolation. There was more to his words than he needed to express. "Yeah, I know…"

Cloud lifted the vacuum back in hand just as a delighted squeal of elation sliced through the garage followed by a "Daddy!". The two glanced at one another before Denzel released the ladder and shot off through the doorway. Dropping the item in hand once more, Cloud followed him.

Cutting through the kitchen and passing the bar counter, he witnessed an excited Marlene within the thick tree-trunk arms of Barret. His expression matched her verbal cues of joy, with his face split wide by a grin. "Marlene! How you been, my sweet princess?"

"You didn't say you were coming home!" she said as he set her back down to the floor, almost reluctantly.

"Daddy had some business with WRO to take care of and decided I'd come by for a couple days." The grin suddenly faded. It was clear he was attempting to push down whatever negative feelings rose to the surface linked with it. "Wanted it to be a surprise. That alright with you?"

Marlene giggled with a snort. "Of course. That's a silly thing to ask."

Barret looked up to the new arrivals, his attention moving from Denzel, who took a place beside Marlene, to Cloud. That grin shortened further at the sight of him. "I see you made it home alright, Spike."

Cloud nodded. "In one piece."

Barret opened his mouth to say something else but shut it, nodding as well. When his eyes shifted to Denzel, a bit of his joviality returned. "And how's my man of the house doin'?"

He beamed. "Good. Me and Cloud were cleaning the rafters in the garage."

Barret quirked a brow. "Why the hell y'all doin' that?"

Denzel frowned at him as if he should know the answer. "Because you have to clean the things you can't see sometimes."

Barret chuckled. "I guess you're right." He paused, casting a careful glance around. "Where's Tifa?"

"At the store," Marlene answered. "She'll be back soon."

An unspoken tension suddenly permeated the air. Cloud felt it, heavy and leaden. Even the children seemed to bristle against the shift in atmosphere.

"Ah, all right then," Barret said, his tone stiff with apprehension.

It was within that moment when it became clear of an obligation, a duty Cloud had to uphold. While the company of Avalanche in its professional form had dissolved, he held an unspoken leadership within their family. He was the alpha of their wolf pack and with it came responsibilities. One of those responsibilities was keeping the peace.

"Barret...there's something I need to show you. Upstairs. About business."

They shared a look. Barret gave a slow, cautious nod and turned to the children. "Hey kids, me and Cloud will be back. You two hang tight down here."

Denzel and Marlene gave a look of their own to each other before wordlessly heading toward Marlene's artwork, paper and pencils sprawled across the table's surface. "Denzel, come look. I'm almost done…" she said as they parted from the men.

They knew something was up, yet they knew better than to ask questions.

Cloud led the way up the stairs with Barret following closely behind. His large presence was like an ogre at his back, the steps creaking beneath his weight as they ascended.

As they made the trek, he couldn't help but run through the different scenarios he was likely to face with this confrontation. Barret was easily agitated, like poking a bear with a long stick. It didn't take long for him to swipe, and he thankfully had the skills to dodge his paw if it came swinging.

They reached the office and Cloud entered first. Barret closed the door behind him and hovered by it. "What you got for me?"

His arms crossed once more at his chest as he faced the bear, whose eyes were bright with expectation. "I heard about what happened between you and Tifa."

Barret visibly tensed as those eyes dulled, his lips tightening into a thin, straight line. "I see."

"I think you should apologize."

The statement didn't exactly surprise him, yet his body language stiffened further despite himself. "I might have been a little harsh, but she had the enemy in our backyard."

"Shinra isn't the enemy anymore."

Like the flip of a switch, Barret's fury activated, his nostrils flaring like a bull preparing to charge. "The hell they ain't the enemy! They always have been, always will be."

Cloud never flinched. "You asked me to come back to see what was going on, and I have. I don't think that they are."

"You gotta be kidding me. This is just the first step, takin' over Edge."

"Yeah, so what? Who else would do it?"

Barret threw his hands in the air, the tips of his fingers brushing against the ceiling. "Anybody else!"

"They've invested time and money into Edge. It wouldn't be standing if not for them."

"The Planet wouldn't have nearly gone to pieces if not for them!"

"Wouldn't the best way to redeem themselves to be to give back?" Cloud asked. "And if I recall right, Rufus wasn't responsible for most of it. At least not for his existence."

They both knew the name. Neither had to say it.

Barret wouldn't be deterred, his rage toward the entity that destroyed his life remained full to the very brim of the pot. "We can't let them have this power!"

"WRO is being funded by Rufus. They've always had it. The question is what are they going to do with it this time. And taking over Edge is small compared to what they could leverage. Let it go." His eyes narrowed, his last words closer to a command than a request.

Barret momentarily faltered, his eyes shifting to and away from Cloud as he struggled beneath the weight of his indignation. The battle against Shinra's intentions was lost for the moment. He quickly pivoted to another that he thought he would win. "Even so, a rat like a Turk has no business bein' under this roof."

Cloud shook his head. "That's not your call."

That rage came firing back on all cylinders. "Are you defending those leeches!?"

"No. I'm defending Tifa's right to choose what she wants."

"If what she wants puts them kids in danger, my family in danger, I'm gonna make it my call."

Cloud caught Barret's heated stare with his own. "So you threaten to take the kids away to make your point?"

For a second, he almost appeared apologetic, but his words were at odds with the conflict swirling behind his eyes. "I'm trying to protect them!"

While he was reluctant to push Barret's buttons, little did he know his own would be pressed. Cloud's temper cracked, his voice raising uncharacteristically to a volume he rarely used outside of the battlefield. "What the hell do you think Tifa's been doing this whole time while you've been gone? She's been taking care of Marlene. She's basically her mother."

Barret's voice darkened, an accusatory sap dripping from his mouth. "You got a lot of nerve talkin' about me bein' away. At least I come back whenever I can. At least I answer my goddamn phone."

The accusation stung, and it was all Cloud needed to reel his emotions back in. The fight wasn't about them nor about their egos. It was about keeping the family together; it was about making peace.

It was about Tifa.

"You're right. I messed up," he admitted, a steady calm returning to his person. "I had my reasons, and I should have been here. We were both wrong to leave her with that responsibility."

Barret continued to dig. "I'm gone for Marlene's future, for Denzel's future. Can you say the same?"

Cloud paused, then sighed. "I can't." The sudden regret of his choices hit his throat. He swallowed it, and it felt like razors sliding all the way down.

"Then you can fuck right off." Victory flashed across his face.

It pissed him off.

"I can't do that either. Tifa sacrificed a lot for us. It's not your right to stand in the way of something she wants and neither is it mine."

"Tifa's happy with the kids, with the bar. She was unhappy when you left her."

Less of a sting, more of sickeningly slow piercing to his chest.

He witnessed the beginnings of the slow decay of a woman he would sacrifice himself for, a woman he would travel to hell and back if it meant she was safe for just another day. He didn't know what he expected when he came home—perhaps he expected more of the same. Open arms, a welcoming smile, an understanding expression that hid a pain Tifa would never verbally express. Instead, he was greeted with anger, bitterness, and a hollow chasm, emptied by something unrelated to him, unrelated to his absence.

The decay continued to erode from within—they just couldn't see it. Barret needed to understand.

Then it came to him.

"There's something I think you should see. It's in Tifa's room, on her nightstand, or her corkboard. You'll know it when you see it."

Barret shook his head. "I ain't got no business going in her room."

"I won't tell if you won't."

The intensity of Cloud's rock hard stare shook loose the remainder of his hesitation. Slowly, Barret opened the door and left the office.

Once he was alone, Cloud took in a deep breath. He didn't know if it was the right call, to invade her privacy to prove a point, to make him see how wrong he was for his forceful intervention. Would it be justified if Barret saw as clearly as he did now? He wasn't certain, but he knew Barret was partly responsible for her disposition, for the start of the decay that entered her heart, and Barret was the only tangible target he had to focus on.

Footsteps signaled Barret's return. He passed through the doorway silently, shutting the door carefully behind him. He was visibly somber. "Helicopter lessons, huh?"

Cloud didn't reply.

Barret sighed, running a fleshed hand over his head. His tone lost its combative edge. "I can't accept it. There ain't no room for him here. He's responsible for Sector 7. He's responsible for Denzel's parents."

"Denzel forgave him."

Shock registered immediately on his face, eyes widening at the declaration. "What?"

"Reno told him what he did, and Denzel forgave him." Cloud looked at him pointedly. "Maybe that's a lesson to us all."

Barret shook his head. Disbelief settled on his knitted brows. "He's just a kid. He don't understand."

"He understands perfectly and you know it."

He could see it then, a semblance of understanding, maybe even acceptance, slither its way through the shield of stubbornness Barret erected around himself. Perhaps there was a glimmer of hope to truly get through to him, to peel away the layers of toxicity that currently coated their family unit. It was his mission now, above all else, to see them come together. He would settle for nothing else.

"So I apologize." Barret said, his voice had softened. "Then what? I ain't forgiving him."

"I'm not asking you to. But you should... we should trust Tifa's judgment."

A narrowing of his eyes returned, yet it was void of the menacing glare that once accompanied it. "You advocating for this? This...whatever it is? She broke it off with him, you know."

Cloud couldn't help but smirk. "Actually, he broke it off with her. I guess he thought the family was more important than staying."

Barret had the decency to look ashamed, stunned by the tidbit of information. It didn't take him long to shake himself out of it. "Well, one good deed don't wipe out the other shitty ones. Word is he got himself suspended over that crap in the Plaza."

Cloud frowned at the statement, but wasn't surprised. It was to be expected if Rufus was being true to his word, and the decision lent more confidence that he was. "This isn't about him. It's about Tifa. It's about letting her make her own decisions without our interference. That's not fair to her."

"You leaving wasn't fair to her." The barb was weak and filled with petulance.

"You can deflect all you want, but she's miserable now because of you."

Something seemed to suddenly spark in Barret's eyes—a deep, hidden regret. He finally seemed to break. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I just... she needed to see what she was doin'. It ain't right. She was-"

"Betraying her family?" Barret appeared as if struck, but didn't respond. Cloud continued. "You trust family to do what's best for them, and you're there for them when they make mistakes. You're not her father—you can't dictate her life for her."

"But Marlene—"

"If you take her, that's on you. But are you really going to be able to live with yourself, taking her from the only stability she's ever known? Do you think she'd forgive you for that?"

A knock at the door stopped them in their proverbial tracks. Barret cast a rueful glance at Cloud as he turned to the door and opened it wide. Beyond the doorway stood Marlene, a sweet smile on her face and arms behind her back.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Tifa's home. She said she's gonna make dinner soon." she looked to Barret, her smile never failing. "You should go help her, daddy."

He wasn't sure if Barret noticed, but there was an underlying command from the girl that Cloud had grown to recognize in her speech. Something about it made him wonder if she knew precisely what they were discussing only moments ago.

Barret paused, looking over his daughter before giving a small smile in return. "You right. I will." With a last look to Cloud, he moved past Marlene and down the hall.

The weight was small, but it lifted from his shoulders at the conclusion of their discussion. He couldn't know what Barret would say or do now, but he planted the seed all the same. It was all he could hope for, and at the moment, it was enough.

Cloud motioned to follow, but Marlene stepped further into the room, blocking his assumed path. "I have a job for you, Cloud."

He smiled, a hand landing on his hip. "Oh yeah? What kind of job?"

Marlene rolled her eyes. "A delivery, obviously."

"I don't work for free, you know," he said playfully.

She angled her head skyward as she hummed in thought. Her eyes suddenly lit up, as if a lightbulb flashed above her head. "How's a hug, whenever you want one?"

Cloud couldn't help but chuckle. As her smile slowly faded, he quickly accepted the job. "Okay, deal. Let's see this delivery."

From behind her back, Marlene produced a colorful portrait.

He was instantly hit with a brick of recognition.

The face was starkly familiar with a set of aqua eyes, spikes of red around the crown with a hair tail of the same color, curled around a shoulder, and a pair of dark, shaded ovals at the forehead. The captured grin on the portrait was uncanny to its assumed model.

"I need you to give this to Reno." Marlene said, breaking through the silence that had befallen them. He wondered how long he'd been standing there, staring. "He said he was going to come back for it, but… well, just give it to him for me?"

The insinuation weighed heavy, and heavier still was the presence the Turk left behind. Slowly, Cloud took the drawing and looked it over again. "Do you have a message with the delivery?"

Marlene thought a moment before answering, her finger tapping against her chin. "Tell him… 'I delivered'."

Cloud nodded. "You got it."

Marlene smiled again and moved off. Stopping short of the doorway, she turned, that smile thinning out to an expression much too old to fit her cherubic vista. "Actually, could you also tell him something else?"

"What's that?"

There was a beat of hesitation that was unlike the girl, a beat of consideration as she appeared to choose her words carefully, considerately. "I forgive him, too."

She left before he could reply. It was just as well—he had no reply to give.

Within his brief moments of solitude, Cloud looked again at the drawing in his hand. A man who once carried out some of the most egregious missions Shinra had to execute had suddenly found his way into the hearts of his family. He was at odds with himself, if it was something he should welcome or rebuke. In the end, it wasn't his decision. Just like he told Barret, their family was a tightly knit unit, built on their bonds and not on rule. Who they cared for, who they loved, who they forgave, was for them to choose.

But Reno was gone now, wasn't he? Exiled by his own volition, the cord cut by his own blade. He made the choice to turn from them, from her, and save the family from fracturing. He could have stayed, he could have fought for what he wanted. He chose to leave. It was for the right reasons, wasn't it?

His thoughts trailed to Barret then and his stubborn indignation, the continued hatred that seared through to the marrow of his bones. He understood it—it was difficult not to, given their shared history and similar experience. Through his travels, however, he learned how crucial it was to let go of the things that ailed him, to remove the power it held over him, and It was high time Barret did the same. Perhaps he would eventually, but that was not this soldier's new mission.

Cloud spared a final look to the drawing, to the vibrant red and aqua blue and cocky smirk before slipping it beneath some papers on his desk. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and flipped it open. With the appropriate contact located, he sent a message:

Hey Johnny. I need a favor.

Time to find his new target.