A/N: Thank you to everyone for your reviews! SSD and me will work hard towards the October chapter.

Well past 9 PM—frankly closer to the side of 10—Aerith couldn't find herself caring all that much. Tidying up the Church, her soil-covered hands long ago set aside her gardening supplies.

That was when she felt it, once more.

Stronger than earlier yesterday, but that was absolutely a twinge of... something . Faintly calling at her. Whatever it was, the Planet and her mother alike weren't going to fill her in on the details anytime soon. Midgar's pollution also wasn't doing any favors for the young half-Cetra.

Frustrated and maybe somewhat frightened at the strange, gnawing, sensation in the back of her mind, Aerith's hands clasped together. Her eyes shut in silent prayer, concentration, meditation.

Reopening her emerald eyes, their color so strikingly similar to that yet unknown current of life, the flower girl was hardly surprised to see Tseng silently observing her from one of the still in-tact pews. She always wondered just how many years ago this sadly decrepit Church had last seen the light of day as a place of worship. She couldn't help wonder further, just what did the Ancients themselves worship, back in the day? Maybe someday—Aerith hoped, at least—to find the answers.

"Late night?" His even voice—perhaps concealing vague traces of amusement—broke her out of private musings.

"If you're here to warn me again …"; she huffed, rising to her feet to dust off traces of dirt against her dress.

"No, not about the fugitives. Although, I believe it's wisest for me to accompany you home." Tseng played his usual stoic part of impassive, unreadable, but she certainly caught a trace of...something...that was hard to decipher. Anger towards those strange men on the run? Utterly hard to say.

"I…." Aerith faltered. It wouldn't exactly be wise of her to refuse, now would it? "Fine."

A sigh.

For tonight, she'd be a good girl. The less hot water and threats of returning to Hojo ( that monster ), utterly the better for her.

With one last cursory glance around the small room, Aerith nodded to herself in satisfaction. She walked along the leader of the Turks, side by side, her hands clasped behind her back.

"My answer's the same as always, you know." The bitter edge to her voice undercut any sarcasm, the traces of life fading from Ifalna's eyes at the train station with Elmyra as fresh as some fifteen years ago. "I refuse to help Shinra."

Faded memories of multiple harsh pink eyes, murky strange-colored liquid, a piercing white noise immediately filling her head, locked away behind a tightly sealed door. Labelled. Words that little Aerith was unable to read just yet. A child trapped in the labs with her mother. Cold scientists scribbling away in their notepads, muttering to one another. An antiseptic, utterly sickening, smell. Normally left to waste away in the jail cells as Ifalna was unknowingly examined, prodded, researched like a common lab rat.

Most days were boring for her. Most days she felt hungry. Or chilled. Days she'd rather not remember, more often than not, separated from her mother.

"Aerith!"

She blinked. How did they arrive at her home so quickly? "Hi, mom.", she offered a half-smile towards Elmyra, faking cheer.

"Honestly! You should be thankful that I requested Mr. Tseng to check on you! I was getting so worried!"

Aerith's smile felt so incredibly forced that it would probably break. She needed to retreat to the safe haven of her room, immediately. Not particularly hungry nor in the mood to fall asleep with a good book, tonight. "Sorry. I lost track of time!"

She turned to Tseng, nodding her head towards the door. "Would you like to come in for tea? I'm sure you have the late shift tonight."

"That won't be necessary." The well-dressed Turk offered a slight bow towards both women. "I was already on my way home."

"Cloud, what am I going to do with you?"

Tifa was shaking her head, quietly muttering, returning to scrub his messy locks. At least he wasn't covered in dirt or blood too badly. Zack really did give it his all to protect his friend. Tifa couldn't help but smile to herself at the thought; those two truly were close.

She idly wondered just how close Zack and Cloud grew in these past five years—quickly overcoming any personal embarrassments of washing Cloud's body to help him get clean. His arms were well-toned, yet rather evident was his malnourished, sickly, belly.

Still, whatever her old friend did in his own business was his life—not that she couldn't help but feel a mild pain of something aching within her heart, at the thought of Cloud being in a relationship.

Certainly Tifa began to think about Cloud a lot after he left town to join Soldier, searching for him in the newspapers almost immediately became part of her morning breakfast ritual, but that didn't mean—

"Tiiii—Tifaa..."

The woman in question blinked, not believing what she heard, making immediate eye contact with Cloud's hazy green eyes. Her uncertain voice was barely above a whisper, "Cloud…?"

Despite recognition of his own name, there was that vacant look—again—in those unsettling eyes, one half-open...Just how much longer would they be the wrong color?

"Ahh…Nu—number...?"

Tifa sighed, maybe out of partial frustration and partial worry. She wasn't certain, herself. Ever so slowly gently scrubbing the underside of Cloud's bicep, she'd decided that peacefully chatting with Cloud was the first step towards bringing him back to reality.

"Sorry if the mattresses aren't comfortable down here. Some friends live in the other room upstairs and it's not pleasant, either. But that's just how the Slums are, you make do. Say, what's your favorite thing for dinner? I'll be sure to cook it sometime." The subject of food gave her the nagging feeling that she'd forgotten something important.

Cloud just blinked, his strange emerald eyes meeting Tifa's in silence, before his head lazily dropped into his chest. "Guh….Re….un…"

Tifa offered a half smirk, forcing her cheerfulness. Perhaps it was so fake that even Cloud could easily see through her. "Look, you can't play in the bath the whole night. You have to get some sleep. Here, let me help you out."

Draining the tub, Tifa quickly wrapped a warm cotton towel—one of the few luxuries her home had, on the higher end of the impoverished Slum dwellers—around Cloud's body, slowly patting the blond dry.

"These boxers might be a little big on you...but they're clean and they're all I have right now," Tifa continued, still full of nauseating false cheer. Barret would be several levels of pissed off, had he known! "Come on, Chocobo head, let's dry your hair next."

"Uhhh…", he seemed to mumble an affirmative while the bartender cautiously towel-dried damp locks which almost fell to his shoulders. His hair looked awfully cute that way. Maybe his mutterings were fatigue, being properly wiped out after his warm bath. To Tifa, at least, it seemed both.

For now, she'd carefully shave off Cloud's dark gold stubble using one of Biggs' and Wedge's clean razors and some aftershave. The small hairs didn't seem comfortable against her friend's face, judging by how frantically he'd paw at it during his occasional silent fits.

"Look this way, Cloud, towards the mirror. That's it." Her smile, at least, grew genuine.

What a weird situation tonight ended up being! All she wanted was to talk with Cloud, reconnect while ensuring he was okay. Not with this ill stranger before her eyes, less of an old friend and more like someone's puppet.

He was still for her at least, his focus either nowhere or on the mirror in front of him. She lathered his face up with shaving cream before carefully putting a razor to a cheek. Holding her breath, she stroked downwards, leaving a baby bum smooth patch of skin in its wake. Tifa's confidence growing, she continued with her duty.

"Cloud...there's so much we have to catch up on, you know?" She glanced at his eyes. They were blinking a little more, maybe even clearing up from their eerie green. "I...wanna hear your voice."

He swallowed robotically, but she wondered if anything she was saying registered. Almost done, she decided to continue talking to him. "I'm sure I will soon. You're just really tired, aren't you?"

As she wiped his now freshly shaven face, she got a good look at the man the boy next door turned into. Messy blond spikes, blue eyes corrupted by Mako, but no less beautiful, and an almond tan that sported barely noticeable freckles across his cheeks. He had softly angular features on his chin and nose, and a brow that would be more noticeable in a scowl.

He was as handsome as his friend, just in a different way.

"Let's get you to bed, okay?"

Cloud let out a grunt before she hoisted his arm over her shoulder and guided him to Wedge's room. She let him sink into the bed a bit before helping him lay down on it. She went to tuck him in, but his hand shot out to hold her cheek, making her still and her eyes widen.

"C-Cloud?"

His eyes were a hazy blue from fatigue, but there was a faint smile on his lips, like he was satisfied with something he had done. "Ti...fa. Tifa. I'm...so happy...you're alive," he whispered.

She blinked in rapid succession, biting her lower lip when she found it quivering. Something inside her ached terribly, and she busied herself with the blankets before putting them on him.

"I'm happy you made it, Cloud."

A knock at his (certainly this room had been well lived in, by the looks of it) door, before Tifa cautiously poked her head inside. Her voice soft, "Hey there. You awake?"

"More or less...Too many worries to fall asleep." His sleep had been disturbed by an upsetting nightmare, then thoughts flooded into his mind that he wished would just leave him be. Zack's smile was bitter, as he lay sideways on his bed, waving at the dark-haired woman who walked into the room.

"I take it Cloud fell asleep okay?"

"Yep." She nodded, "Immediately out like a light as soon as I threw the covers over him."

She'd have to talk to Wedge about the visitor too exhausted to even snore, in his room. The guys probably wouldn't mind bunking in the spare guest room, Tifa in such a frantic rush to get tonight's unexpected company settled in, that she hadn't even the time to logically think much through.

Sighing heavily, she leaned her back against the makeshift door, arms crossed underneath her chest. Zack either didn't care or simply made no comment. "Our three rooms down here...Well, they belong to some, uhh, roommates of mine? They should be home soon, but don't worry. A friend of mine, she shares my bed and tonight the two guys shouldn't have any problems bunking in our guest room. They're easy-going, kind-hearted, people."

"Don't you have a spare bed upstairs next to yours, too?"

"Oh! That's where my other friend and his daughter stay."

Zack whistled out of amusement. "Runnin' a charity case, are you, Tif?"

She burst out laughing. "That's just how the Slums are. We stick together." Her eyes fell to the stained, wooden floorboards. "And...besides that…" No good. She just couldn't explain their plan in two months' time.

"Umm…" Bashfulness returning in full force, Tifa began nervously brushing a strand of her away, single droplet earring shimmering in the mustard-colored lighting of technically Biggs' room.

"Zack...What do you think about Cloud?"

"He's a swell guy, and he'll definitely get better soon! Don't worry!" As eager as a puppy on the subject of one of his favorite people, Zack couldn't help sing his best friend's praises.

"N-no, I meant. What do you, umm... think of him?" The shade of Tifa's cheeks all but matched the color of her beautiful eyes, now.

"Oh! Well …" Zack scratched long ends of spiky hair at the base of his neck. He considered himself pretty open-minded and would've done anything for Cloud. But going on a date before everything went to Hell never crossed the Soldier's mind due to one big reason.

"I don't think my girlfriend would like that too much. Come to think of it, she'd probably find Cloud pretty cute!"

Tifa immediately blanched, Zack politely held back laughter while holding up a hand. "Relax, I'm just kidding! Neither of us will get in the way. You kids have fun once Cloud gets better, okay?"

Tifa huffed, shaking her head, blush not dissuading. "Jeez, you're only a few years older than us, you don't have to talk like an old man! Besides...me and Cloud? We're just childhood friends!"

She bit her lip, fixing her hair again. "That's all."

Zack shrugged, about to offer the brawler some encouragement, when heavy footsteps above caused whatever words to die on his lips.

At the sound of a door opening and those familiar heavy footsteps above, Tifa's eyes widened with realization: "Oh, shit ! Excuse me, Zack!"

Zack looked as if he held back more laughter at Tifa's sudden casual swearing. He certainly hadn't heard such language from the woman before, even when she was a teenager. Tifa was immediately a familiar sight in Midgar, but he never would've thought of her as that girl from Nibelheim.

Hm. Just how much time had passed? The question was, quite honestly, nagging him.

Turning to his side, facing the wall as Tifa quietly shut the door behind him, Zack let out a breath.

How long had it been? Tifa was running a bar in the slums...She seemed to be an adult now, not just a teenager; looking like she had gained a good ten to fifteen pounds of muscle weight. Not an easy task over just a year, especially if someone had to recover from a grievous wound. No, it had been longer than just a year.

Perhaps it had been two years? Two years of their lives, taken from them on the whim of a madman...On the whims of a company he had worked for loyally and without much questioning. His loyalty and capabilities clearly meant nothing to them. He had just been an obedient pawn to be discarded once no longer needed.

Zack continued to stare at the wall, finding a hairline crack particularly interesting. A harsh huff passed his lips. He wouldn't be anyone's pawn anymore.

"Yo, Tifa!" Barret looked about the empty bar while he turned off the stove. The stew was about boiling over, leaving thick, brown broth to ooze over the clean, if well used, appliance. There was a tinge of worry gnawing at him; Tifa would never leave something to cook and then just disappear. "Tifa?"

"Papa, there's red stuff on the floor!" Marlene was looking down and pointing at some red blotches on the otherwise clean floorboards.

He came over to investigate, finding coagulating blood. Barret gently moved his little girl away from the trail, which pooled right behind where the door would open and smeared itself on a barstool. "You don't need to be touchin' none of that!"

Before he could do more, the pinball machine went downwards, then quickly after returned with a pale-faced Tifa, who was looking between them, the stove and the blood, all the while rubbing her arm anxiously. "Uh...I-sorry for the mess! I-I dropped some paint, sweetie."

"Oh." Marlene eyed the blood, as if she weren't completely sold on the idea.

"Marlene, I need to talk to Papa about something important. Can you be a big girl and go play in your room for a bit?"

The little girl nodded firmly at the request, then quickly made her way upstairs to Barret's room.

Tifa let out a long breath and rubbed her forehead. She looked exhausted. Barret motioned towards the mess. "The hell is goin' on?"

She was quiet, thinking over what to say and how to say it. "We had some visitors."

"What d'you mean, visitors?!" His voice was rising.

Tifa hushed him, then looked around the empty bar, as if some spy was waiting for her to share a secret. Looking him in the eye, she confessed what had happened on short notice. "Two people I knew from my hometown."

"You said Shinra destroyed it."

She nodded slowly. "Well, these two were there when it happened. Actually, one was...my childhood friend." She swallowed heavily. "At the time, they worked for Shinra—"

"You brought Shinra dogs in here?!" Barret cried out, literally up in arms while raising them angrily.

"Will you be quiet , Barret?!" Tifa began rubbing her face in exasperation.

"They don't work for them anymore. I'd even say that they're against Shinra now." She looked back up at him, his frown stony and judging.

"Barret, there's just a lot that we have to catch up on right now. They were injured, and tomorrow we can get the story from them."

Before the burly man could protest, she interrupted. "We'll talk to them together, tomorrow. Just please let them rest for now."

"If they look at Marlene the wrong way, they're gonna be paintin' the walls," he warned.

"Okay, fine." Tifa sighed. There wasn't much else she could do to reason with him.

Avalanche's leader took in several deep breaths, then pointed at his dear friend. "You better make sure they good and ready to talk, soon. Tomorrow ain't good enough for me. If they're against Shinra, cool, but if they're rats then I wanna know, pronto!"

"Fine, fine…Just give them a little more time to rest, okay?" Barret hesitantly nodded and Tifa rubbed her face once more, before locking eyes with a confused redhead entering the bar, Wedge and Biggs behind her.

Talk with Jessie first, let Zack have maybe...an hour, no, two hours' more rest, and then perhaps a hopefully calm discussion between Zack and Barret could happen. Certainly Barret wouldn't be callous towards a sick guy like Cloud? Certainly he at least could rest for a bit longer?

Jessie, Biggs and Wedge, having just entered the bar together, could only exchange nervous glances between each other. This strange tension in the air certainly felt bizarre.

Clearing her throat, Tifa's hand fell onto Jessie's shoulder, offering a weak smile. "Can we talk in our room? It's important." Marlene, still happily playing with her dolls, wouldn't be able to hear them from next door if the women kept their voices down.

"Sure thing." Despite Jessie's words, the quizzical look on her face didn't dissipate. "Guys, you help Barret with dinner, okay?"

"Jeez, Tif, you sure made a mess tonight! What's gotten you so distracted? Guy trouble?" Biggs couldn't help his snickering. Wedge was a bit more sympathetic to whatever was on Tifa's mind, taking it upon himself to quietly dry off the still warm stove. Barret, begrudgingly, began preparing the bowls and spoons they needed. He'd let Marlene play for ten more minutes, then after dinner and washing up, it was straight to bed for her. He'd need time afterwards to mentally prepare for a nice chat with Tifa's old buddies.

"Your 'friends' joining us?", he huffed.

Tifa laughed nervously, shaking her head. "T-they don't seem very hungry."

"What friends?" Jessie raised an eyebrow. Maybe Barret was irritated tonight because they had a late return home, and he desperately needed some food in his system? It was already well past Marlene's bed time, after 8 PM. Marlene in tow tonight meant there wasn't much to be done on the side of reconnaissance—although it certainly made passing off as family on an evening stroll much easier.

Jessie took a cautious seat on their worn mattress—sadly all they could afford—while Tifa all but paced back and forth with anxious eyes.

"Hey, so, uhh...look. Could you explain to Wedge and Biggs that they have to bunk in that spare room below? Just for tonight, I think."

"Um, sure? You already know that's not a problem, but why?"

Tifa ran a shaky hand through her hair. Maybe her white lie was obvious, but what did it matter, when certainly Barret would loudly bitch about the ordeal during supper, before Marlene joined them?

"Some old friends stopped by. It's not that I mind, but it was kind of...without warning? Barret's worried enough about the situation that he demands we chat with them tonight? I just..." She groaned, loudly, face in her hands, back against the wall. "I just don't know what to do!"

"Oh, is that all?" The redhead cocked her head to the side, utterly confused. "Look, I could tell Barret was chewing you out with those threats of his, but I think it'll be fine. He's not the type to act without thinking despite how hot-headed he's feeling in the moment, right? Otherwise, what kind of a leader would he be to our group?"

More than thankful that her dear friend was more than amiable about the situation, it was honestly refreshing to have somebody to let her guard down around.

"I'll go fetch Marlene so we can have dinner together. You just take a moment to relax, okay?"

Tifa felt all the tension escape her system, laying backwards atop their mattress. The comforter needed replacing sometime soon. Considering tonight's crazy turn of events, reassurances were especially needed.

"Thanks, Jess."

"And Tifa?" Avalanche's bomb expert stood by the door, a gloved hand on the handle.

"Huh?"

Jessie winked. "I'll convince Barret to wait until tomorrow to chat with your friends. Sleeping beauties need their rest, right?" {Nerd Jessie off-screen impresses him with her latest bomb research, or something?}

Despite the stress, Tifa couldn't help herself but laugh.

Blinking, his vision was greeted to an alabaster ceiling. He'd ever so slowly work himself to cautiously sit upright, that definitive it's morning sensation tingling through surprisingly soothed muscles. His mind felt a little like taffy, and at first he wasn't quite sure where he was.

An unfamiliar bedroom with an uncomfortable stiff-as-a-board mattress that sunk down in the middle slightly, seemingly some kind of basement. Yet Cloud's sleep had been strangely restful. Had he been that tired?

Immediately, his heightened Soldier senses fell to the open door, eyes locking with her —wide-eyed and holding some kind of bowl. Warmed oatmeal, maybe? Those shaky hands nearly dropped the item in surprise, before setting it atop a well faded dresser.

Nervously licking her lips and cautiously pushing back a strand of hair away, her dangling teardrop ear visible, the young woman offered, "...Cloud?"

He blinked, twice, immediate recognition in his light-blue eyes, any Mako now mere traces. At least, for the moment.

"Tifa."

And immediately, warmth enveloped Cloud, her arms tightly wrapping around his back. She silently, briefly, shuddered into his arms before straightening, cherry cola eyes shimmering from wetness. Held back tears? Cloud didn't understand, but it stirred something inside him.

"Good morning, Cloud." She fought the blush against her pink-tinged cheeks while he slowly hugged her in reply, his hands respectfully against the small of her back. She smelled faintly of shampoo and whatever she had been cooking. It was nice.

"Yeah. Mornin'...I think." A loud yawn escaped his lips, morning cobwebs fuzzily clogging his brain, processing his old friend before him. Wasn't her dark skirt too short? Those suspenders were a cute touch...as for the rest of her body, well, she always looked good no matter what she wore.

Still groggy, Cloud opened his mouth to mutter, seemingly unaware that he'd begun playing with the softness of Tifa's long chocolate hair, "Chocobo and dumplings, it was my comfort food, back home." Answering her question from last night's bath, he quietly continued, "Mom...she'd always cook it for me, whenever I'd get sick."

"I remember. She'd offer me and Dad extra bowls." Tifa cocked her head to the side, gently smiling, "but why cannibalism?" For good measure, a shaky finger poked the tallest end of his spiky hair. She was holding back laughter.

Cloud blinked again, needing a full minute to grasp her joke, his lips soon curving upwards into a genuine smile. He made no effort to politely push her away during their friendly, comforting hug.

Something about that realization especially warmed Tifa's heart.

"Last night…"

"H-huh?" Tifa still couldn't believe it. This was real. He was here . But whether or not Cloud would relapse...No. She'd refuse to think about it.

"Why'd you think Zack and I were a couple…?" Confusion in his slurring words, moreso than mortification. Maybe Cloud, too, had no qualms with the idea on a basic level?

"We-well...He really has your back, you know?" Tifa's cheeks reddened, holding an index finger up as if describing a key point in a business meeting.

"...Yeah." Was that relief, or disappointment in Cloud's increasingly tired eyes, while his body grew slightly pale?

Tifa was uncertain about his facial expression, moreso concerned that her old friend naturally wasn't out of the woods just yet. Biting her lip, she reluctantly broke away from their warm embrace, helping Cloud shift about into bed, again. Zack took the news about 5 years passing, over breakfast she'd graciously provided them...Well, Tifa frankly didn't know how well Zack had taken it, reacting wide-eyed but otherwise tight-lipped about his feelings.

"Get some rest." Her voice was gentle, kind.

"Mmh...okay. But, Tifa, where…?" He yawned, momentarily eyeing the steaming bowl of food before his fatigued eyelids heavily shut. His stomach hadn't growled yet , so it was a sign he wasn't hungry. Vaguely recalling Tifa's overprotective, motherly, nature from their childhood, she would've killed him over such a line of thought, angrily forcing him to eat something .

"We're at my place, in Midgar." She nodded in confirmation, pausing. "I promise I'll explain everything later."

Midgar...? Why here? Cloud's confused, fragmented, thoughts gave way to comforting sleep which all too eagerly claimed that young man.

Soon, he could feel himself drifting off, dimly aware of a weight atop the side of his bed, a warm hand stroking blond locks out of his face, and a familiar song hummed on her lips. One of the standards he overheard in his room, if he luckily left his windows open during Tifa's piano practice. As if Cloud had been her private audience, back then. Did she know he'd been listening to her play, every day 3 PM sharp, during her daily practice?

Before his last traces of consciousness temporarily faded, the blond began humming along, based off pure, albeit exhausted, memory recall. Unaware of Tifa's warm smile, brimming from silent happiness that he remembered.

So, what did you think? Will Barret be reasonable during their talk? Will Cloud be stable enough to add anything to the story? Tifa's a champ, isn't she?