Roused to responsibility; Small comforts; Allowance, please;
To market, to market, with gil in our pocket; Iatrophobia and Trypanophobia;
Cozy Candle; Where are we going from here?;
"Rise and shine, sleepin' beauties! We're here."
Denzel woke with a jerk and a snort. "Wha-?"
The airship's intercom continued to crackle. "Y'all need to get off the ship. AVALANCHE, y'all need to help unload. Chop chop, people! Don't want to leave the Shera hoverin' in the open where any Shinra eyes can spot her."
"Someone please take the intercom away from him," Yuffie groaned from under her covers. On the bunk above him, Marlene let out a weak sleepy laugh.
Denzel dropped his head back onto the flimsy pillow. Did he count as AVALANCHE? In his sleepy state, did he want to count as AVALANCHE? If he didn't, he could just find a bed in the canyon.
No, he wanted to be useful. Show them they could count on him. If AVALANCHE needed to unload, then he was going to unload. He flipped back his blanket, forced himself upright, and fished under his bunk for his shoes. "Come on, Yuffie, the sooner it's done, the sooner we can go back to bed."
"Nnnh. You sound like a parent. Go back to being a kid. Roll over, go to sleep." And she did just that… or at least tried.
A heavy knock landed on the door. "Y'all up in there?" It opened, and Barret stepped into the narrow room.
"Get up, Yuffie, we got work to do." Marlene was sitting now, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, and he patted her hair. "Mornin', Marlene, Denzel. Reeve's got a room in the inn for ya if ya wanna head over there."
"Mornin'. I'm actually gonna help unload," Denzel explained, wincing as he pulled the laces tight on his sneakers, which were starting to pinch. He'd need new ones soon.
"Good morning, Daddy." Marlene yawned, braided hair frizzy from sleep. She reached her arms out for a hug and a hand down from the upper bunk. "What time is it?"
"Still dark out," Barret answered. He set her down and turned to Denzel. "You up for luggin' stuff around?" Denzel nodded firmly.
"Alright, head for the cargo bay then." He looked at the blanket-covered lump on the other bunk. "You too." Yuffie shrieked as he scooped her out of bed and dumped her on the floor.
"Eeee! Cold, cold!" She hopped from foot to foot on the metal floor and leapt back onto her bunk, tucking her bare feet under her. "Give a girl some warning! And some coffee! And get out so I can get dressed!"
"You're already dressed." She was, and so was Denzel. Back at the start, buying teen and children's clothing in the quantities needed would've been too suspicious in tiny Banora, and they'd never had an opportunity since, especially after the Turks got on their tail. (The group that went to the airfield had stocked up in Midgar, and Marlene looked comfy in her flannel nightgown.)
Yuffie stuck her tongue out. "What I meant was, get out so I can get my mind ready for the monotonous task ahead of it." She made a pained, disgusted face, wrapping an arm around her middle. "And my stomach," she groaned. "I hate flying."
Barret rolled his eyes. "If you ain't down in five minutes, I'm comin' back to drag you out."
"Don't worry, Daddy, I'll make sure she's there," Marlene said as she laced her shoes.
"I'm countin' on ya." The door slid shut behind him.
Yuffie flopped onto her back. "Stupid adult responsibilities. Stupid motion sickness."
Denzel tugged the blanket on his bunk over the thin pillow and cast an assessing eye over his work. Good enough. "It's not that bad. The ship's not moving, and when we're through, you get to stay on the ground."
Marlene nodded, though the way she blinked and jerked her head up at the end made it seem like it was maybe more accidental nodding off than intentional agreement. "It's only a few boxes, right?"
"Yeah. You planning to help too?"
"Of course." Her nod this time was definitely on purpose.
"See. It's not just the adults."
Yuffie glared at him. "It's optional for you, mandatory for me. That's a big difference in motivation." Her eyes lit up. "But! I can direct people on the ground where to put stuff." She pushed off the bed, landing on her feet right next to the door, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Yeah, let's get off this tin can," she mumbled underneath it.
A quick stop in at the head, and then to the bay. The chocobos had already been moved from their makeshift pen, and people he'd never met were taking boxes, bags, and monitors off the ship under Tifa's direction. Yuffie didn't wait to be assigned something. She grabbed a bag and bolted down the ramp while he and Marlene checked in with Tifa.
"Hey, you two." She punched both their shoulders, very lightly. "Barret told me you plan on helping."
"Yeah."
"Well, a lot of people from the canyon came to help out too, so it won't take long." She looked around. "Alright, see that apple crate and bag?" She pointed.
"Mm?"
"Take those down to the researchers' hut. It's on the lowest tier of the mesa. If you get lost, ask for directions or wait for the next person heading there. It's where most of this stuff is going."
Both items were on the small side, easy for them to carry. The crate was stuffed with loose papers and folders, while the bag held a jumble of random medical supplies - metal canisters and cardboard boxes of tubes, vials, needles, glass dishes, and slides. He handed the bag to Marlene before hefting up the crate. "Let's go."
His sister pulled the canvas strap over her shoulder. "Right."
Denzel was a little disappointed when he couldn't actually see much of Red's home. The Shera's exterior lights washed out the dusty plateau, the unpainted clapboard building nearby, and the crowd of figures milling around the ship's ramp to stark white and black, and dots of yellow lantern light lined the paths, but the rest of the town was dark. He couldn't look up from the narrow steps that led down the mesa's side, either, for fear of falling. Getting lost, at least, wasn't a concern - he and Marlene could follow the others carrying items and boxes down.
Cloud, on his way back to the ship, stopped them for a moment. "We've got a lot of hands helping. When you go back to the Sheara, you should get your bags off before Cid moves it. Take them to the Inn, it's called the Shildra and is on the lower part of the mesa, in the main square."
"Okay. Want us to grab yours?"
"Sure, thanks."
The small room the inn provided was really small. Smaller-than-their-cabin-on-the-Shera small. But, crucially, unlike the cabin's thin pallets, this room had real beds. They took up most of the room, piled with striped blankets and tasseled pillows, and Marlene dove headfirst onto the closest one. The mattress made a soft 'poomph' noise and she giggled.
There wasn't a dresser, so Denzel shoved their family's packs under the beds. He was too amped to sleep, and it was too early to explore the village. He tugged a comb out of Tifa's pack. "I'm going to find a place to take a shower."
Marlene yawned and began burrowing her way under the covers. "'Kay. I'm gonna take a nap."
Outside their room, he headed down the hall. He thought he'd seen…. Yep, he had. Communal showers, marked by a rack of red and white towels and a wooden box with squares of soap sitting outside of it. Picking up one of each, he entered the dark room. It took a moment of feeling along the slightly damp wall to find the light switch. An old bulb buzzed to life overhead, its dim light illuminating the room. The rectangular space was cut roughly into the mesa's red rock, and old metal pipes ran up the walls to corroded shower heads, staining the stone behind them. A groove in the floor acted as a drain, feeding into the mouth of a rusted pipe that led who-knows-where. In the back of the room was a narrow open doorway, and a small plume of steam trailed out from it. He peeked in and saw a set of short steps leading into a mineral spring bath.
There were wooden pegs on the wall opposite the showers where he hung his towel and dusty clothes. He really needed to find a place to wash those as well - the Shinra Manor was the last time they'd been clean. Since then, there'd been cursory washes in creeks and lakes, the clothes scrubbed with the same bar of soap they washed themselves with. Maybe he could pick up a change of clothes here in the canyon.
The shower sputtered to life in an uneven spray. Years ago, the blue-green mineral build-up around the shower head would've grossed him out. He'd lived on his own in the wreckage of Midgar for a year, though, and he didn't care now. Warm water and a chance to be clean washed away any discomfort. With time to kill, he enjoyed a long soak in the bath afterward.
Once he was clean, he checked back in at their room, hoping to find at least one of their parents. The only person there was Marlene, visible only as a dark brown braid sticking out from under a pile of pillows. Disappointed, he headed downstairs. Behind the counter sat the old man who'd shown them their room, Elder Bugah.
"Excuse me?"
The man put down the scroll he was reading. "Hello, looking for anything?"
"Do you know where the others are?"
"Hmm, don't know where most of your group's at. Reeve is probably with the researchers. Other than that," he lowered his voice to conspiratorial levels, "those four from Nibelheim I was told to keep an eye on, they're still in their rooms."
Denzel nodded. "Okay, thanks." As he exited the inn, he saw Vincent reclining among the supports of a windmill, one of many scattered across the red mesa. Unsleeping and sharp-eyed, Vincent usually took the role of lookout. Denzel wondered if he was on guard against Shinra, keeping an eye on the Nibel families, or both. He waved up to the man and got a nod in response.
The windmill blades went around in creaking circles, pushed by breezes carrying warm herbal scents and the smoke of the bonfire that burned in the village center. Houses clung like swallow nests against the cliffs, connected by wooden stairs and walkways. Dusty brown doves perched everywhere, calling mournfully. The locals went about their daily lives but avoided standing under the birds. White spatters on the earth showed why.
He wanted to explore, but Marlene would be unhappy if he started without her. The gnawing in his stomach reminded him that either he needed to find the adults for some gil to buy breakfast, or resign himself to eating another granola bar from his pack. He could hike down to the researcher's hut and likely find Reeve, but it was a steep climb back up and he might be able to find one of the others on the main part of the mesa. It wouldn't hurt to look around here first.
Here and there, long tables under green canopies were being set up. Midgar once had every kind of store under the sun, from the back-alley black market shops in the slums to high-end luxury boutiques catering to wealthy plate dwellers. Edge mostly had pawn shops and thrift stores. Here, it looked like an open-air market ran during the morning, while temperatures were still cool. There was food, raw and cooked. (Denzel bit his lip and looked away from a platter of fresh-baked cornbread.) Dishes, barrels, buckets, woven baskets. Tools, electronics, household goods. One table held potions, ethers, and materia. A few tables looked like they were set out with things that tourists or hikers might need, as well as obvious souvenirs: carved figurines, painted jars, and beaded jewelry. Approaching two of the merchants, whose table held bolts of cloth, he asked if they sold clothes or shoes.
"Like a full outfit? Do you have time for a fitting?"
Denzel shook his head. "No, I was thinking…" He gestured at himself, his dirty clothing and shabby sneakers. "Something to replace these."
"So you want something premade? We don't normally do that, but I'll bet we can find something in your size."
"Right. It'll be used, but it'll be comfortable."
"Umm, yeah, okay. That would be great. I don't have any gil right now, can I come back?"
The older of the two waved an airy hand. "Sure. We've got to get it all together first."
Denzel grinned. "Thanks. One other thing, do you know where anybody else in my group is?"
"You're one of the time travelers, Nanaki's bunch, right?"
After all the troubles they'd taken and lies they'd told, it was weird having complete strangers know he was a time traveler. He could feel his shoulders hunching up, and he cast a cautious look around. It was a good thing he wasn't a Turk or Shinra informant or someone who wouldn't know what the man was talking about. "Yeah, I am."
"Well, one of the ones in the red cape is in that windmill." He pointed to Vincent. "Reeve and one or two others are at the base of the mesa at the researcher's hut. Some are at the inn and a few at the observatory, I think."
"Oh, and those ones."
Denzel turned to where the man pointed and saw Tifa and Barret coming up the steps that led down to the researcher's station. He gave a quick thanks to the merchants and ran over to his parents.
Tifa smiled. "Hey, you're back up?"
He ran a hand through his clean hair. "I took a shower instead of sleeping."
"That sounds like a good idea." She tugged at her own hair, which was dull and lank.
Barret snorted. "I can complain 'bout a helluva lotta things at that airfield, but least we had showers."
Tifa gave a 'what-can-you-do' shrug. "Are you exploring now?"
He shook his head. "I'm waiting for Marlene. I was looking for you. Can I have some gil?"
Immediately, Barret reached for his wallet. "Sure, how much you need?"
Tifa put one hand on her hip. "Why do you need it?"
Barret paused, wallet open. He and Cloud would spoil them rotten if it weren't for Tifa.
"Breakfast for Marlene and I, some new clothes, and I've almost outgrown my shoes."
Barret looked between them. "Y'all never got yourselves a change of outfits?"
Crossing her arms, Tifa replied, "There was never time. It was on our list of things to do in Junon, but Cloud left, and it slipped my mind. After that, we had the Turks to deal with."
"Well," he took out a couple of bills and handed them to Denzel, "here. Find somethin' good."
"Thanks."
Returning to the inn, he promptly spent some of his new money on some sugared fry bread with cactus fruit jam for Marlene and himself. While the dough fried, he went to wake his sister. She was as he'd left her, buried deep under the covers. "Hey, Mar, time to get up." He shook the lump lightly.
The covers moved, and she peeked out from under them. "Mmm?"
"Come on, there's food."
"Hmmalright." With a yawn, she managed to extract herself from the bed. "What's for breakfast?"
"Food."
"Denzeeell."
He laughed as he went out. "Come on and see."
Down in the common room, the Strifes were sitting at one of the long tables. "Good morning." He smiled at them.
Marlene slid onto the bench across from them. "Morning."
Spike nodded, looking intently at them. "Umm, good morning." It sounded more like a question.
Mrs. Strife gave a thin smile. "Good morning. Marlene and Denzel, right?"
"Yes, ma'am." He sat down beside Marlene right as an older woman, Bugah's wife maybe, set a mug of coffee down in front of Mrs. Strife.
"Shall I bring you kids a pitcher of milk?" she asked.
"Yes, please," Marlene responded quickly. The offered drink appeared nearly as fast, in a chilled tin pitcher with three clay cups.
The fry bread, lightly dusted with sugar crystals, appeared next, the jam in a ceramic crock beside it. "Would you like to try any?" Marlene offered. Mrs. Strife declined, but Spike eagerly tore a piece off, spreading some of the jam over the top. His face scrunched happily as he bit into it. Denzel tore a bit off too. It was warm, with a crunchy outer layer and a soft center. The cactus fruit jam was sweet, but also sour, and the sugar blended with it nicely.
Marlene looked at Mrs. Strife, who sat sipping her coffee. "What are you getting?"
"Unfortunately, we don't have any gil with us."
That's right. They hadn't had a chance to grab any of their things. "We can get you something," he offered.
She dipped her head, bangs obscuring her eyes. "Something for Cloud. I'm fine."
He'd seen Cloud do that same thing when he wasn't happy. "You sure? I mean, it's our fault you're stuck here."
Marlene grabbed a menu from the end of the table, passing the stained paper to Spike. "Get whatever you want. Both of you. Cloud and Tifa will feel guilty if they know you're hungry and didn't eat anything."
glanced at them and the menu in her son's hand, before sighing. "Fine, thank you."
She ended up ordering the cheapest item, amaranth porridge with honey and juniper syrup, but at least she was eating. Halfway through their meal, the Lockharts came down. When young Tifa saw them, she started skipping steps and landed at the bottom of the stairs with a thump. "Good morning," she called.
Marlene patted the seat next to her. "Good morning! We're paying for breakfast." She offered the menu to the other girl.
Accepting the paper, she slid onto the bench, examining the food already on the table. Grumbling, her dad followed, sitting diagonally from Mrs. Strife, who eyed him over her coffee. They ended up ordering another plate of fry bread, some corn fritters, and a platter of scrambled eggs with peppers. The proprietress brought out another clay cup and mug of coffee.
The adults were watchful, so breakfast conversation was mostly between Denzel and the three other kids. What did they think of the airship and flying? What about the inn? What was the inn in Nibelheim like? He and Marlene steered clear of what they were up to in the past or talking too much about the future, acutely aware of the adults and not wanting to upset them.
Since he and Marlene had ordered first, they finished before the others. His sister let out a contented sigh as she wiped jam off her fingers. "Denzel and I are going to explore today. We've never been here before, so it's going to be a lot of fun. Wanna join us?" The kids' eyes lit up at the question.
Spike eagerly turned to him mom. "Ma, can I?"
She looked apprehensive. "I'd rather you stay with me."
"You can come too," Denzel offered.
Across the room, the bell above the door jangled. Shera entered, and seeing them, gave them a small wave as she headed for the counter. Denzel waved back and kept talking. "The market is going on right now. You can look around the stalls."
Bruiser's smile widened at that. "Daddy, can I go with them?"
Denzel looked over to him as well, trying to look encouraging. The man sat with his eyebrows drawn close together and a frown tugging at his lips. "It's not safe to wander around with strangers."
Hurt, he felt his jaw tighten. They would never in a million years want to or mean to harm Cloud or Tifa.
"But we're not strangers!" Marlene said indignantly. "Or," she grew thoughtful, twining some hair around her finger, "at least, not real strangers."
"Is everything alright?" Shera came over, looking concerned and carrying a large tray of corn fritters, salsa, and jerky.
Denzel's fists were clenched. Taking a breath, he smoothed them out on his pants. "It's okay, we were just asking if they wanted to explore with us."
She nodded, smiling. "As long as you stay on the mesa, it's perfectly fine."
"That's not-" Mr. Lockhart cut himself off as Elder Bugah shuffled over.
"No one here will do them harm," the old man said, his voice rough and cracked but full of good humor. "Children shouldn't stay cooped up inside, let them run around,"
Claudia's eyes narrowed slightly. Leaning forward, she asked, "What about the local wildlife?"
"Cosmo Canyon's not nearly as dangerous as Nibelheim," Shera responded. "Besides, Denzel and Marlene will be with them."
"That's right," he agreed, then added, "and I'm level thirteen now." If her concern was the local monsters, then he and Marlene could put up enough of a fight to keep Bruiser and Spike safe until the other AVALANCHE members showed up.
"Aww!" Marlene shoved his shoulder, mouth an 'o' of dismay. "You gained more levels than me!"
Across from him, Spike looked awed. "You're level thirteen!?"
He couldn't help puffing up with pride. "Yeah."
"Really, it's okay. Let them have fun," Elder Bugah smiled.
Claudia sighed. "Fine. Cloud, stay right with Denzel, okay?"
The little boy grinned. "Okay!"
Bruiser pouted down at the table before grabbing hold of Marlene's arm. Both girls cast pleading looks up at the mayor. "Please, Daddy? I don't want to be left out."
Lockhart made a face and looked away from the puppy-dog eyes, but the combined stares of everyone around the table did the trick. "Alright, alright." His daughter leapt up in delight, wrapping her arms around him in a big hug. He glared at Denzel over the top of her head. "Don't let anything happen to her."
"I won't."
Marlene clapped her hands. "Let's be off then."
Flies buzzed through the air outside and, high above, hawks rode the thermals rising from the red rocks. Marlene browsed eagerly through the market stalls, Spike and Bruiser right beside her. Denzel held back to watch. This was something that never happened to Cloud or Tifa. They'd never left Nibelheim as kids. This was new, and it struck him all over again that these two, Bruiser holding up a beaded necklace and Spike offering an awkward compliment, wouldn't grow up to be the same as his parents.
Following behind them and looking over their shoulders, he paid little attention to the stalls, ruminating instead what they might grow up like. At a stall selling roots, grains, and leafy greens, Spike joined him in hanging back.
"So… um, you're… we, they adopted you?" the boy stammered. "They're your parents now?"
He was caught off guard by the question, though he really shouldn't have been. "You mean Cloud and Tifa and Barret? Yeah." He wasn't sure what else to say.
Spike continued to peer up at him. "And you didn't shrink like they did?"
"No, we're our right ages. I'm thirteen and Marlene's ten."
The little boy's eyes widened. "That's my age!"
Really? Denzel stared back. He'd thought the kid was eight, maybe a small nine. Then again, maybe Spike's wide-eyed immaturity was because he hadn't been through as much as Denzel and Marlene. When Denzel was seven, the Sector Seven plate had dropped, his parents were killed, his home destroyed, Meteor fell, and Mrs. Ruvie died. When he was eight, Mr. Gaskin, the man who took him and some other street kids in, got sick and died. His best friend got mad at him and ditched him. Then, like the straw that broke the chocobo's back, he came down with Geostigma. By time Cloud found him, he'd basically given up on life. Most of the kids Denzel knew in Edge had similar stories.
Spike and probably Bruiser had their fair share of troubles, but neither of them had anything like the collapse of their entire world. They never, ever would, if he and the rest of AVALANCHE did their jobs right. He was suddenly hit with a deep resolve to ensure that both of them had the best childhood they could.
Bruiser, finished looking at the multi-colored grains, stepped over and asked, "What happened to your parents then? Did they get sick?"
Denzel's mouth tightened. The answer stuck in his throat as he remembered waiting in a strange, empty house for his parents to join him. Flames on the tv screen, then searchers scouring the rubble. A yawning hole where his home and neighborhood had been. Marlene answered for him. "No, they didn't get sick. I don't even remember mine. Only Barret, then Tifa, and then Cloud."
Finally, he got his tongue unstuck. "Shinra killed them. That's one of the things we're trying to change."
"Oh," Bruiser kicked a small pebble and it bounced across the ground, rolling under a display table. "I'm sorry."
There was an uneasy pause before Denzel shrugged awkwardly. It wasn't their fault.
"Um, so… how did you meet them? Our older selves," Spike asked.
"Daddy, Barret, was my parents' friend. He started AVALANCHE. Tifa joined, and later Cloud did. But we weren't a family until after Meteor and Geostigma."
"Meteor?" "Geostigma?" the two younger kids asked at the same time.
"Meteor was… well, a meteor that destroyed Midgar. That's where my family used to live. After that, I was on the street and got sick with Geostigma. A lot of people had it. Cloud found me and brought me to Seventh Heaven." He gave them the quick vision, not wanting to dwell on it. They were close to the fabric booth, and he beelined for it.
Behind him, Marlene extrapolated. "Seventh Heaven's our bar. Then Aerith made it rain and cured everyone who was sick."
Bruiser asked something else, but he didn't hear, talking to the merchants instead. They'd found a few clothes they thought might fit him. Most of the tops were tunics or robes, and he dismissed the longer ones immediately. He ended up picking out a sage green sleeveless tunic and a black long-sleeved button-up hooded jacket. Neither the tunic or the jacket had pockets, but there were pockets on the legs of his new calf-length shorts. A prior owner had clearly added them - the pockets were brown and baggy and made of different fabric from the dark green shorts. The only shoes that fit him and looked like they would do well for traveling were a pair of short brown leather boots. He thought about getting another tunic to sleep in, but he probably shouldn't get too much, because he might have to carry it in his pack later.
The new shoes he put on right away, wiggling his toes inside them. Plenty of room. The rest of his purchase he bundled under his arm. While he shopped, the others entertained themselves by looking at the fabrics the booth offered.
"Ready?" Marlene asked, seeing him stand up from lacing the boots.
"Almost." He turned back to the stall owners. "Sorry for not mentioning it earlier, but these two-" he gestured to Spike and Bruiser "are gonna need outfits too. And there are five other people." He turned to Marlene. "Everyone in your group has a change, right?"
"Yep, we're good."
The merchants looked a little startled. After all, they'd said this morning that usually they made clothes to order. Denzel didn't think that AVALANCHE was going to stay in town long enough for everybody to get an outfit custom-made.
Whether it was tolerance for the time-travelers or just sensibly taking the offered business, the merchants agreed. "The others, what size are they?"
"Oh, um, two are kind of in between Marlene and me, one's about your height, and one's a little taller, and one's a little shorter." The merchants asked a few more questions about the clothes they would need to get before being satisfied.
"Alright, morning market's going to close soon, but we'll bring some stuff by the inn later."
"Thanks." He turned to the others. "Where to next?" By this point, they'd wandered through most of the market.
"What's up there?" Spike pointed up at the large building at the top of the mesa.
"Oh, that's the observatory!" Marlene exclaimed. "Should we check it out?"
Bruiser's eyes lit up. "Yes!"
"Alright, let's go." He found the stone steps that led up to the next level, and the others followed. The path led into a tunnel system. There was a maze-like feel to the place, and Denzel paid close attention to his surroundings. He didn't want to get them all lost. The tunnels were less confusing than they looked like though, and eventually, they made it up to the top level where the observatory sat. In front of the domed three-story building, were a few children playing with a very familiar moogle robot.
Marlene laughed and ran forward. "Mog!"
The silent A.I. swung round, its goofy tusks emphasizing its grin, and spread its arms wide. Marlene leapt right into them, receiving a giant hug in return.
"Hey, Mog." Denzel greeted. "I thought you went with Cait Sith."
Releasing Marlene, it shook its large head before smothering him in a fluffy hug. Soft, pale pink fur enveloped him, and mindful of being the oldest here, he struggled to free himself. When the robot released him, he overbalanced and nearly tripped onto his butt. Marlene giggled, and Denzel brushed at his mussed hair, scowling with embarrassment.
Bruiser and Spike stood with wide eyes. Denzel looked at Mog. It looked cute and funny to him, but it was big. Maybe it was scaring them? "Let me introduce you. This is Mog, it's a robot Reeve designed. It's also from the future." The A.I. gave a clumsy bow. "Mog, these are Cloud and Tifa's younger selves, we've been calling them Spike and Bru-" He wasn't able to finish. The robot rushed forward - Spike clenched his fists, and Bruiser stepped back in alarm - and scooped the kids up. Shrieks of dismay followed, but they changed to laughter as Mog swung the pair around in a hug.
Reeve heaved an explosive sigh and set his clipboard down. Many hands had made light work of unloading the airship, but there wasn't much room in the thick-walled building the researchers rented. Some of the new equipment and information had apparent, immediate uses, but much of it was only potentially helpful, and all of it was cluttering up the small workspace so that there was barely enough room to move. Inventorying it would likely take up the rest of Reeve's week. However much he trusted the researchers and the Canyon's inhabitants, some of the information was too dangerous or sensitive to pass around freely. He'd have to do this work principally on his own.
Cloud wheeled in the last filing cabinet, looked around at the chaos, then immediately started sorting through it. Reeve frowned. He had a fairly large request to make of their leader and didn't want Cloud's tolerance rubbed raw before he could ask. But… Cloud was neck-deep in this business. He knew what was important and could be shared, and what was important but should remain hidden. His help would be invaluable.
Sorting through the new mess was complicated by the old mess underneath it, Reeve and the researchers not being particularly tidy. Reeve tried to clean as he went and ensure that the most critical and recent projects were still accessible, but there wasn't enough room for everything that needed counter space to have it. He was trying to decide which of Sonia's soil samples and Logan's delicate collection of bark and leaf scrapings would best fit into the available scrap of counter when the door opened, allowing in a warm breeze and Joni.
"Cloud?"
"Hm." The man didn't look up from the stack of folders and journals he was sorting by principal researcher: Hojo, Hollander, Lucrecia, Gast, other.
"I know you're busy and probably want to head to the inn to rest, but when you have a moment I'd like to get a blood sample from you."
Reeve blinked, stunned. He had introduced the two only hours earlier, taking special care to warn her and the other researchers beforehand of Cloud's aversion to doctors and scientists. He glanced from Joni, casual in her t-shirt and khaki pants, with a shovel and pickax hoisted over her shoulder (and why was she carrying those?) to Cloud, frozen with a folder half-open in his hands.
"No," Cloud said flatly.
Joni, unperturbed, shrugged as she set the tools down in a near corner. Or tried to. First, she had to move aside the mini-fridge and three apple crates from the Shera before putting the implements with the other buried tools. "Alright. It's too bad. We've got to compare the degrading cells against what a healthy SOLDIER's cells should look like."
Cloud snapped the folder shut and stood, obviously growing more uncomfortable. "I was never SOLDIER."
Reeve shot a warning glance at Joni. He'd intended to ask Cloud for this favor - their work on degradation really couldn't proceed without it - but he'd wanted to introduce the topic more gently. She was going to get his hackles raised and wreck their chance.
She wasn't looking at him. "Still." The researcher shifted a blocky computer monitor aside to reach the cupboard where they kept their personal items and pulled out a mug. Unearthing the coffee pot from behind walls of reference books, she poured herself a cup of the lukewarm liquid. "You're healthy, and you've got both JENOVA cells and mako infusions." She slurped at the drink, then made a face.
Cloud glanced at the door.
Since she'd introduced the topic, Reeve had no choice but to try salvaging the situation. He smiled and chuckled, trying to calm his friend's nerves. "It's alright, Cloud, I can assure you she won't do anything weird or nefarious with them."
Joni, now excavating the hot plate, rolled her eyes. Cloud glowered. "Didn't we bring anything that had normal SOLDIER information?"
He shook his head. "There's none in what Vincent sent earlier. We might find something in this batch, but nothing with nearly the level of mako and J-cells Angeal and Genesis have. You're our closest comparison."
Joni nodded, watching her coffee mug begin to steam. "We won't do anything more than you consent to, and won't use the samples or the information from them for anything other than trying to find a cure for degradation."
Reeve met Cloud's glare evenly. If he didn't agree, they wouldn't pester him. The blond looked away, mouth twisting. Reeve added, "You can take your time deciding," and returned to cleaning.
Cloud flipped the folder back open, hiding his face in it. The bird song outside - mourning doves cooing, phainopepla calling - was replaced by the drone of insects as the day warmed. Joni drank her coffee, redid her greying ponytail, and began picking through the vegetation samples Reeve had set aside. She glanced at Cloud off and on, and cast a questioning eye at Reeve. He shrugged. Cloud was still on the same folder, staring without focus.
Eventually, whatever internal battle he'd been going through came to a close. He shut the folder, set it back on the 'unsorted' pile, and turned to Joni. "Just a blood sample, nothing else."
Reeve felt the tension drain from his shoulders. At least they got this much. He'd worried that Cloud wouldn't agree to anything. Perhaps it was a sense of duty, or the presence of a friend, or perhaps that Joni, with her chapped lips and dust-smeared hiking boots, didn't look much like a doctor. Whatever tipped the scales, he was glad.
"Alright." Joni put down a manzanita twig. "Do you want to get it out of the way or wait till later?"
"Get it over with."
"Of course. Let me fish the supplies out, and we'll get started." She went about finding the blood draw equipment and several tubes and vials.
"Do you need all those?" Cloud eyed the tubes with contempt.
Joni grunted while shoving a box aside with her elbow, making room on the crowded counter. (Reeve stepped forward quickly and stabilized a stack of beakers that now teetered on the edge.) "Unless you feel like coming back for another draw, yes."
Cloud grumbled but didn't protest further.
"Alright, hop up here on the counter." She patted the cleared spot.
The swordsman did as instructed, but sat tensely as she tied a strip of rubber tight abound his bicep, flinched as she dabbed the arm with an alcohol-drenched cotton ball, and looked away when she inserted the needle. Instantly dark red blood flowed from the needle to the test-tube.
"There. Now try to relax."
Cloud didn't make a sound but let out a prolonged, very controlled breath. It didn't seem to help.
Reeve attempted to distract him. "I saw that your chocobos came through time, too." Cid had pointed them out. He mentioned how Cid had confided his initial fear, upon seeing the birds on television at the track, of the time-stream collapsing and his later desire to deck Cloud for not warning him. Reeve smiled. In Cid's words, 'Damn bird-head could've called! Saved me from havin' a damn heart attack.'
Cloud continued to stare at the wall, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "We haven't had much contact with the track. Mostly just what races we want them entered in." He was still taking slow, deliberate breaths. "One of the jockeys got hurt, and the track gave us a replacement."
He thought about the odds of that. "This was after Kalm?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm. Do you suspect Shinra interfered? A Turk?"
Shrug. "It happened after the first race. If it'd happened later, I'd be positive."
"They know the birds are yours, then?"
"I entered the stable name as Strife. They'd be idiots not to be curious."
"I see." He watched Joni remove the third vial and attach the fourth. He felt a little squeamish, watching. Bloodletting wasn't in his usual line of work. "Wouldn't that mean they have your number now?"
"Yuffie set up a spam account."
Of course she had. "How do you collect your winnings?"
"Not sure. Vincent did something."
And of course, he had. On occasion, Reeve had asked those two to use their talents for the WRO, mainly when dealing with old Shinra business.
"What about the papers?"
Cloud rolled his eyes as Joni attached the last vial. "They keep wanting interviews and photos. All three of our racers have set track records, and Sigfodr and Valkyrie have their maiden race this week. Apparently, there are some big bets running on them."
"Really? On untested birds?"
"Less about if they win, more on if they set records. We keep getting offers to buy them."
"And do you plan to sell?"
Joni finished, removing the needle and dabbing the site with another cotton ball. She tried to wrap the site, but Cloud waved her away and slid off the counter. "No." Predictably enough, now that the draw was over, Cloud bolted. Discretely, but Reeve was unfooled.
"Well, that went better than expected," Joni commented, labeling the vials and banding them together.
He raised an eyebrow at her back. "Really?"
She stored the blood in the mini-fridge next to Angeal's and Genesis's samples. "From the way you described him, I half expected him to knock me out for making the suggestion."
"I half expected it too, frankly. If you looked more like a doctor, or if this," he gestured to the cluttered space around them, thick walls of rough-hew planking peeking out past the stacked boxes, bags, and papers, "looked more like a medical facility, he might have."
She grinned, a rueful twist. "I thought of that. I came in early and grabbed some of Mabel and Sonia's tools. I thought I'd rather look like a miner than…" Her voice trailed off momentarily, and she gestured to the folders and journals Cloud had been going through. "I didn't want him to associate me with these monsters."
As dusky twilight crept across the sky, the canyon's residents and visitors gathered together around the Cosmo Candle, sharing a communal dinner of venison soup filled with barley, onions, and carrots, pepper and sage adding extra flavor. A basket of flatbread was passed around to soak up the broth. The Nibel parents talked to Bugenhagen. Yuffie entertained the kids with exaggerated stories. Cid and Shera got along well with the researchers, while Tifa chatted with Bugah about running a bar and mixing drinks. Cloud, Barret, and Vincent seemed content to talk with each other, though a few locals slipped into their conversation. Reeve sighed, swirling a mug of chicory coffee. It was a quiet break, sorely needed.
Unfortunately, with their lives, it couldn't last. As dinner came to a close, nearly everyone sipping at hot or alcoholic drinks and the kids licking fingers sticky from sunflower seed cakes drizzled in honey, a brash voice broke through the small conversations.
"So what the hell now?"
Reeve looked up from his conversation with Morgan and Shera about incorporating magitech into small household appliances. Cid, seated on a stump, blew out a stream of blue smoke. Now that he had most of the attention of the people sitting around the fire, he continued.
"Those lead-headed lubberscum at Shinra are gonna be lookin' for us like a broody tonberry with a grudge and the Shera is a sittin' duck down in the canyon. All those damn turkeys gotta do is run a fly over and they'll fuckin' spot her."
Cups stoped halfway to lips and plates were set down. People less used to Cid and his colorful descriptions stared at the man. Comparing Shinra's opinion of them to that of a furious tonberry defending its nest was quite the image. Doubly so, when you considered such a creature coming after you.
"Do they know to look here?" a local asked, a tinge of worry in her voice.
Cid produced another stream of smoke. "Well, they fuckin' know we headed south."
Concerned murmuring and Barret's muttered "Language," joined the fiddle song of crickets and the distant hooting of owls. Reeve put a hand to his chin, feeling the peach fuzz stubble there. "I would rather not get the canyon into trouble."
Cid snorted. "Damn right! So where the ruttin' hell to?"
"Well, when Red checked in after arriving with the Gainsboroughs, he informed me that he'd acquired the manual for Great Gospel, as well as the Keystone."
Cloud interrupted him, voice tight. "He has the Keystone?"
Cid leaped to his feet to shout. "And ya didn't fuckin' tell us sooner, ya damn ploddin' secretive slowpoke!?"
Unaffected, Reeve put a hand up placatingly. The AVALANCHE members were wide-eyed with nerves and surprise, while everyone else around the fire looked confused or shocked at the sudden drama. "We were all busy. I had no intention of stressing you with information you could not act upon." He brought his hand down. "It has given me an idea. Collectively, we know the locations of rare materia and weapons all across the planet. Gathering it would be an ideal way to stay ahead of Shinra and keep those items out of their hands. It'd also lend credence to Cosmo Canyon being merely a random stop, not a critical location for us."
They calmed and became thoughtful as he spoke. Vincent was the first to respond. "They may be unable to predict your location or actions traveling in such a manner. However, there will be a higher risk of random confrontations."
"Well," Joni set her coffee down, "if you decide to travel again, I could use some information from Mideel."
Across the fire, Tifa asked, "What do you need?"
"Some information from the clinic there. We have Shinra's opinion on mako and its effects on the body, and we have the canyon's. I don't doubt what you've given us," she nodded to Bugenhagen, "but there's been hardly any research here on the medical aspects. I want a third viewpoint to compare and contrast against."
"We can go." Cloud looked to Tifa and Yuffie, who nodded.
Tifa glanced back to Joni. "Will they give that information out?"
"Some friends of mine from medical school work there. It's been a long time, but I'll send you with a letter, you shouldn't have any trouble."
"Alright, we'll do it."
"The Shera can drop you off," Cid offered.
The Vincent he was less familiar with spoke up for the first time that evening, having been silent all through dinner. "You are frequent visitors to that island. Even with the airship gone, Shinra will look for your return."
Shera suggested, "We could drop them off across the strait, near Fort Condor."
"They'll be watching the ports," the gunman countered.
His time-traveling counterpart spoke over the rim of a wine glass. "To the east there is a chain of small islands. A fishing vessel may pass among them unnoticed by Shinra."
Yuffie groaned. "More flying and more boats, why?"
Reeve offered, "You can stay here while they go."
"Uh… no offense," she glanced around at the locals, "but way too boring."
Some laughed, some sighed, and others grumbled, but most took it in good humor.
Barret brought them back on track. "We all still need to figure out what to do with the Keystone."
"What exactly is the keystone?" someone asked.
"Not somethin' you wanna mess with," was Barret's gruff reply.
Nor was it something you wanted to make a mistake with. The power sleeping within the Temple of the Ancients could lead to so much heartbreak. "My suggestion is to wait. It's not something to make a quick decision on. Whatever we decide must be the right course."
While the conversation went over the head of most present, AVALANCHE was solemn, no doubt each remembering their experiences with the Black Materia. He looked down at his coffee to avoid looking at Cloud. An awkward tension settled in the air. The fire crackled and popped as Elder Bugah put more wood on.
Thankfully, there were those in their party who wouldn't let silence last. "Talkin' about shitty things those damn dunderheads shouldn't have, what about the ruttin' huge materia? We'll need to fuckin' get into those damn pollutin' parasitic reactors."
Reeve took a sip of his coffee, thinking back to the beginning of that project. "They are not in development yet as far as I recall. Scarlet may have been starting to work on them, but they would be no more than notes at this point."
Barret scowled at the woman's name. "You sure 'bout that?"
"Positive." A rueful smile crossed his lips. How many strange and terrible marvels had incubated inside his reactors? "My department did all repairs and additions to the reactors. She approached me about space for it shortly before we scrapped the Modeoheim project. That would be… two years from now."
"So we'll be the only ones with master materia." Tifa rubbed at the green Master Magic materia slotted into Premium Heart. Even in this safe environment, AVALANCHE still carried their weapons.
Yuffie grinned like a cat, jumping up and swinging Conformer around. "Another score for AVALANCHE." A Master Magic linked with an All winked from the shuriken, and a Master Independent sat in the Minerva Band around her arm.
"Wait… anyone, given time, can master a materia." Sonia turned to Ingrid and Marcos beside her, who nodded their agreement.
Rolling her eyes, Yuffie explained. (Or not.) "We're not talking about mastered materia. It's master materia - totally different."
Many residents looked to Bugenhagen and the other elders for clarification, but they were just as confused. Reeve wasn't surprised that no one understood the difference, as far as this timeline was concerned. What they were talking about hadn't been invented yet.
"They cast more than one type of spell," Yuffie continued.
Elder Hargo scratched at his short beard. "Don't most materia?"
"Not different levels of a spell," she replied impatiently "different spells. Like, Master Magic can cast Fire, Ice, Thunder, Bio and a whole bunch of others, at all levels. We stole the method of making them from Shinra and made them ourselves. Now Shinra doesn't have the method and probably never will as long as we have a say. And that," she puffed up proudly, "is a very good thing."
Cid spat into the dirt. "Shitty strangler-vine of a company run by a two-timing tycoon shouldn't ever have that much firepower."
"They still got too much firepower if you ask me." Barret's chin rested atop Marlene's head, arms crossed over her. She had moved from her spot with the rest of the kids to sit in her dad's lap.
"They haven't made the mako cannon yet, and the rockets they have now aren't as powerful." Shera pointed out.
Beside her, Cid harumphed, "Still too much for a dumpster fire of an electric company."
"Ho ho, and who should have that much power?" Bugenhagen leveled each time traveler with a look.
Their faces changed. Surprised, then upset and offended. Reeve felt his own mouth draw down sharply. Cid bristled back at the elder. "AVALANCHE ain't the same. If the ruttin' world don't need savin' from glory-hound idiots, egotistical bloodtastes, and sociopathic poisoners, we all got our own shit going on. And our power ain't at the beck and call of some greedy, power hungry, lyin', profiteerin', lard-assed monopolizer who wouldn't know what decency or morals were even if they danced up to him in a bright glittery pink tutu and hit him in the face with a sledgehammer."
Cool wind rustled the dry branches of desert plants, and he heard small animals, insects mostly, crawling over the sandy soil. He stood still in the blue night, letting the world move around him, waiting. Eventually, a soft babble of voices from above grew louder. Feet scuffed along the stone steps. The researchers had finally left the bonfire.
When they drew close, he opened his eyes. "Reeve"
The man - teen - jumped, as did most of the others with him. The beam of a flashlight landed on him and made him blink. "Cloud! Ah, you startled me. Is something wrong? I thought you went back to the inn."
"Not yet. Can we talk?"
"Of course. Is everything alright?" Reeve walked over, curious and calm. Despite his startlement moments ago, his heart rate was steady again. Cloud envied the ability. He could lock his face down and appear unfazed, but his heartbeat would still hammer in his ears.
He watched the researchers return to the shacks they rented. When they all disappeared, he turned to Reeve. He shouldn't feel embarrassed or guilty for asking this. But he did, so he was here, in the dark. "Red's met up with Aerith - is she okay? Any Turks?"
Reeve's eyebrows rose in surprise before a soft smile spread across his face. "Don't worry Cloud, she's fine." He set a warm hand on his right shoulder, the unarmored one. "Red can't check in too often, but he and the cubs are there with her. They haven't caught the scent of any Turks." He chuckled. "We seem to be keeping them well distracted. He's teaching her what he knows of the Cetra."
"She's agreed to help?"
"Yes. She seems eager to learn about materia."
It was a relief that she was doing well, but he hated dumping their problems on her. She should be enjoying her childhood as much as she could, not worrying about the fate of strangers. The fate of the planet.
Reeve gently squeezed his shoulder. "Get some rest, Cloud." The director turned away. "Good night."
At the inn, Cloud slipped quietly into the shared room. Barret was snoring with fewer rumbles than as an adult. Beside him, Tifa slept peacefully, breathing soft and even. He checked on the kids in the other bed, sleeping back to back, before slipping off most of his clothes and sliding in next to Tifa. Sleep was slow to arrive, but lying in the warm bed, listening to the others breathe, was comforting. Things were okay. Not what they planned, but okay.
A day later, with restocked provisions and plenty of rest, they were ready to set out again. Reeve, Joni, and the other researchers would continue to work in Cosmo Canyon while the Nibelheim families would move on with the airship. Which AVALANCHE members were headed to Mideel proved less easy to settle.
"I'm keepin' the long-range fighters, 'cept for the one that gets airsick."
Cloud looked up from where he was checking over Fenrir, making sure the bike was ready to go again, and saw Cid stomping up the ramp into the bay, followed closely by a stormy looking Barret.
"And I'm telling ya, I'm not staying on this tin can."
His younger-self and Denzel, helping clean and oil the components of the fanning sword compartments, peeked over the motorcycle's frame. Cloud pushed their heads back down. "Keep working. We've got to get this finished."
"Sure as hell y'are! That materia cannon in your arm is our biggest gun, damn useful against choppers. You're stayin'."
"You're just gonna be hoppin' around up in the air. I ain't gonna sit on my ass while they're on the ground. Mideel's gotta be crawlin' with Shinra."
Cid rounded on him. His voice echoed off the metal bulkheads, and Cloud winced. "Bullshit! Is your memory worse'n a drunk cokatolis's? Remember that fuckin' map we just made of where all that damn stuff's located? If anythin', Mideel's the cushy job."
The two stood at an impasse, glowering at each other, before Cid let out an explosive sigh. "Look, we need ya more than they do."
Cloud's younger-self leaned over to him. "Is everything okay?" he whispered.
"Yeah. Wait here." He wiped his hands on a rag and walked over. "Barret? Sorry, Cid's right."
Barret crossed his arms, frown unrelenting. Cloud didn't blame him. Staying meant separating again, plus there were Cloud' and Tifa's parents to deal with. And while Mideel promised an exciting infiltration mission, lots of dull travel time yawned between stops on Cid's treasure hunt, even if the stops themselves could be dangerous. He glanced over his shoulder at the two boys before looking up at Barret. "I need you to protect them."
Barret looked at the kids too, and sighed. He rubbed his arm irritably. "Yeah, jes' gonna be damn awkward."
Two hours later, the Shera lifted out of the Canyon, all passengers aboard. The kids clustered on the observation deck, watching the ground fall away. Once at a cruising altitude, he called Denzel over. "You can stay, you know. With them." He glanced back to the other kids, noses still pressed to the windows.
Denzel followed his line of sight. "I.." He chewed on his lip, and Cloud prayed that he would stay. He knew Denzel had missed Marlene, and his budding sense of responsibility to Cloud' and Tifa's past selves hadn't escaped his parents' notice.
"I'm going to go with you." He smiled. "After all, this time you're not doing the most dangerous stuff."
