A/N: Like I said before, this one has been a lot of fun to write, so already time to post another chapter. Not many views yet, but that's okay, we're just getting started. For those of you who are reading, I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I'd love to get some comments, questions, whatever.
"One less reactor sucking up Mako energy," Biggs said, gazing up at the ceiling of the cramped tunnel the five of them were currently trapped in. Their path to Sector 8 was choked off with debris, forcing Jessie to improvise an explosive suitable for clearing the tunnel… preferably without incinerating the group. The red-head was sitting at the foot of the pile of stone and garbage, wounded leg stretched in front of her, fiddling with the device in her hands. The rest of them stood a way back, wary after the premature detonation of Jessie's last bomb.
Wedge nodded, barely visible in the dim glow of Jessie's penlight. "Right!"
No one else said anything. Tifa leaned against the wall of the tunnel, heedless of the uncomfortable lump of the Buster Sword against her back, arms crossed under her breasts. Behind her eyelids, whenever she blinked, she could see the fire and the damage caused by AVALANCHE's bomb. It had been far more powerful than she had imagined. She could sense the others were also taken aback by the destruction they had caused.
The ex-SOLDIER felt a twinge of guilt, but she smothered it by recalling Nibelheim burning to the ground, by remembering Zack – his chest a mass of bullet holes – breathing his last on the plateau near Midgar, by reliving her long, lonely imprisonment, exiled to a transparent tube for five years while Shinra scientists did experiments on her. No. The score was far from settled. The Shinra still had much to account for.
"Okay," Jessie said from where she sat. "I made this one so the force of the blast will project out instead of, you know… burning us to a crisp." She pulled at the debris, trying to find leverage to get back on her feet. Before Tifa could react, Biggs was at the red-head's side, helping her stand and limp further down the tunnel. The dark-haired young man threw a glance at Tifa as if to warn her back, and the ex-SOLDIER shrugged. "Close your eyes and plug your ears," Jessie said.
Even through her hands, the sound of the explosion was loud in Tifa's ears, but – aside from a rush of heat – no damage was done. More importantly, the tunnel was now open. They leapt through the circle of flame marking the exit one at a time, Biggs still insisting on carrying Jessie rather than allow Tifa to touch her again.
Barret glared around at his crew to assess their condition. "Let's get out of here. We'll take the train back home. Biggs, stay close to Jessie." Biggs nodded at the big man while Jessie looked away. The three AVALANCHE members moved off, and their leader made to follow.
"Hold on," Tifa said, raising a hand to stop the dark-skinned eco-terrorist. "Job's over. Where's my money?"
"You think I carried your pay with me into the reactor?" Barret sounded annoyed. "We'll square up back at the hideout." He ran off before she could argue.
Typical. His excuse was logical, but Tifa was eager to disengage herself from AVALANCHE as soon as possible. She had already spent too much with the group as far as she was concerned and she had no wish to extend the relationship. If she stayed, she ran the risk of befriending one or more of the eco-terrorists, and that was something the ex-SOLDIER couldn't allow to happen.
Her friends tended to lead very short lives.
Nothing for it. She shrugged and followed the burly man deeper into Sector 8.
One minute, Aerith Gainsborough had been strolling down LOVELESS Avenue on her way to the train station, a basket of flowers under one arm, and the next, the evening sky had lit up like daytime as an immense fireball appeared from the direction of Reactor 1. For a moment, all the old fears – the result of a lifetime spent beneath Midgar's upper plate – had returned in a rush… the sense of the open sky reaching out to consume her, to suck her up and swallow her in its endless vastness. The first few seconds were eerily quiet, the other pedestrians stopping in their tracks to gaze up at the spectacle.
Then the sound of the explosion reached her. Windows shattered and the plate shook as if it were about to drop onto the slums below. The screaming started soon after, terrified voices rising above the ringing in her ears. People began running in all directions, though Aerith wasn't sure where they thought they would go or what they would do. The panic was contagious, however, and – if she hadn't been paralyzed with uncertainty – she might have joined their purposeless flight.
As the fireball faded to a red glow behind the plate divider, her initial alarm receded though it didn't disappear completely. What had happened? Her natural curiosity eclipsed the lingering fear. Should she investigate? It would be foolish… who knew if there would be follow-up explosions. This wouldn't be the first time Midgar had been attacked. Even as the thought formed, a smaller blast made the ground beneath her booted feet tremble.
Nonetheless, Aerith took a few tentative steps towards the border, staring past the scattering citizens in the direction of the explosion. A frantic pedestrian who she didn't even see coming slammed into the slender flower girl, knocking her onto her backside. She grimaced, rising to her feet with unconscious grace and a small sigh, brushing off the pink dress and rose-red bolero jacket she wore. She raised her head and saw…
Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. At first, only colors and shapes registered. The uniform and the sword, partially covered by a long mane of dark hair. But it wasn't him. It wasn't even a him. The woman was striking, dangerous looking despite her feminine figure; long legs and a bust the most petty part of Aerith couldn't help but envy. Her toned arms and the huge sword on her back put the lie to any thoughts of delicate womanhood, however. More than anything, though, what Aerith noticed most were the eyes… glowing crimson eyes.
She knew that glow. And the uniform. And the sword.
The flower girl took a hesitant step forward as the other woman approached. "Excuse me," she said, struggling not to stutter, flashing a nervous smile. The question she meant to ask died on her lips, a casualty of an uncharacteristic awkwardness. "Do you know what happened over there?" She asked instead, lifting a pale hand to point in the direction of Sector 1.
Red eyes narrowed a moment, pink lips parting in surprise or uncertainty. Aerith shivered as the unsettling gaze considered her, flicking down and up again. Then a brief quirk of her mouth. "Not sure. It surprised me, too." The woman looked down again, staring at the basket Aerith still clutched against her side. "I've never seen flowers in Midgar before," she said, her voice softer now, almost wistful.
It was true. Aerith had never had competition for her flowers, either above the plate or below it. That didn't make business any easier. Most of the people in Midgar had no regard for living things, no matter how rare. Her customers were either recent transplants longing for some reminder of color and life to provide contrast to the eternally muted and worn-down city, or the occasional native fascinated by the novelty of a plant not meant to be eaten.
She had the feeling the uniformed woman was more in the first camp than the second. Aerith lifted the basket a bit to allow the other to get a better look. "Do you like them? They're only…" her voice caught. Ten gil was the normal cost, but she made a snap decision. "One gil."
"Well it's hard to say no at that price," the dark-haired woman chuckled, and Aerith was shocked by the change it wrought in her face, like the brief glimpse of amusement turned her into a completely different person. She realized the woman probably wasn't any older than Aerith herself.
While her newest customer dug into a pocket to pull out a coin, Aerith's slender fingers reached into the basket to retrieve the best flower she had left. They traded, hands touching momentarily, and the flower girl flashed her brightest smile at the woman. "Thank you very much!"
Almost reluctantly, the woman smiled back, her red eyes meeting Aerith's own emerald ones. "Yeah… thanks." Again, there was the strange sadness in her tone. She held the flower lightly between two fingers, lifting it to her nose to smell its faint perfume, and the smile broadened before fading like a sunset. "I've never seen this kind before."
"It's a white rose," the flower girl explained.
The woman stared at the fragile bloom a moment longer. "It's beautiful," she said, her strange eyes flicking back to Aerith's face.
The brunette felt a little rush at the words and again she hesitated, aching to find out who the dark-haired warrior was and if they could talk. But she waited too long. Her customer looked over her shoulder. "You should be getting home. It might be dangerous to stick around here."
"You're probably right," Aerith said reluctantly. "You be careful, too." The woman nodded and Aerith brushed past her, walking in the direction of the station. More than once, she almost turned back. There were things she would've liked to ask the woman in the SOLDIER uniform, but it was too late now. It wasn't until she was on the train that she remembered the coin she had been given. Her fingers spread open, flower-like, revealing the gil mark the woman had handed to her.
It was a five-gil coin.
Aerith smiled the entire way home.
The train was already pulling away by the time Tifa reached it, the flower she had purchased still dangling between her fingers. She quickened her pace, carefully pinning the stem behind her belt, hoping she wouldn't crush the delicate blossom as she ran for the door of the final car, the luggage car. It was already closed, but Tifa leapt onto the side of the train and clung there like a fly, gripping the corroded iron with nimble fingers. The train whistle howled in her ears, and the clunk-clunk of the wheels clattering over the track grew louder.
She reached out to get a grip on the sliding door of the luggage car, and – with a grunt of effort – pulled it open. Just as the train was about to enter a narrow tunnel, the ex-SOLDIER yanked herself into the compartment.
They were all waiting for her as she entered: Barret, Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge, letting out a collective gasp at her entrance.
Barret was the first to recover from his surprise. "The hell are you doing? Didn't you realize I meant we were taking this train?"
"I got distracted," Tifa explained, giving a careless shrug.
"'Distracted'?" The big man sounded amazed. "Our big, bad mercenary got 'distracted' walking to the train station?" He shook his head. "I oughta' take it outta' your pay, girl." Tifa simply stared at the AVALANCHE leader, putting her hands on her hips. "Whatever," Barret said, turning away. "Everyone look alive… we're gettin' outta' here." Suiting action to words, he leapt over a pile of freight and through the door leading to the last passenger car. Wedge followed, giving Tifa a shy smile before he went. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but was too embarrassed to spit it out.
Biggs helped Jessie to her feet, but the red-head pushed him away rather than let him help her. The young man made a face but went on ahead without her, throwing a nod to Tifa on his way out. Jessie limped closer, sliding the side door closed again, blocking the pattern of alternating lights lining the tunnel and the greater part of the train noise.
The short red-head glanced down, unable to meet Tifa's eyes. "Hey… thanks for helping me back at the reactor."
"It was nothing."
Impulsively, Jessie reached out to grab the other woman's arm, looking up into the ex-SOLDIER's face with a pleading gaze. "It wasn't 'nothing'. I almost screwed up the entire mission. Barret had to save me from the grunt I fought, I was slow enough to get shot by the robo-guard, and you had to put your own life on the line to carry me out." She looked away again, covering her face with her other hand. "And then the bomb going off prematurely… I could've killed all of us." Her hand released Tifa's arm. "It was my responsibility, and I messed up. I'm sorry."
For a moment, it wasn't Jessie Tifa saw, it was her own, younger self. She recognized the guilt and the blame… knew them all too well. Those emotions had been dogging her for her entire life, driving every decision she had made since she was eight years old. The smaller woman was already shuffling past her, but Tifa reached back to take her wrist. Jessie froze, looking over her shoulder shoulder morosely.
"You'll learn from this," Tifa said. "It'll make you stronger so you can't make the same mistake again." The lie burned in her throat, but – false or not – it was her philosophy. The credo she had traded her childhood for.
It seemed to work. Jessie's mopey expression changed gradually into one of determination. "You're right… thanks." She mustered a small smile and limped into the passenger car. Tifa let her go. She would join the others soon, but she needed a moment alone.
Her mind went back to the woman she had met in Sector 8… she had been a spot of color in a lifeless world. Like the flowers she sold. Tifa produced the blossom from where she had secured it, lifting it in front of her face. It seemed unharmed for now. She would have to find a vase or a glass or something to put it in when they reached Johnny's bar, but she knew even placing it in water would only delay the inevitable. Already, the ex-SOLDIER mourned the brief existence of the flower she had found, knowing its life was soon to end.
Later, Tifa trudged through Sector 7, her feet beginning to drag as exhaustion took its toll. It had been a long day, and she still wasn't fully recovered from her imprisonment in a Shinra lab, not to mention the case of Mako poisoning from the experiments they had conducted on her. Five years of her life gone. Even thinking about it made her sick. She could barely remember how she and Zack had escaped. The First-Class SOLDIER must have helped her, because she had been in no condition to help herself.
And how had she repaid him?
Her hand tightened into a fist. By being unconscious and useless while he had fought a veritable army of Shinra troops. She could still see him lying there, bleeding out onto the muddy plateau south of Midgar, killed by the very company he had worked so hard for. And for what reason? Tifa didn't know. All she knew was – somehow – she was the one who had survived while someone else died to protect her.
Just like before.
There was the sound of gunfire, and Tifa jumped, her mind still back on the plateau, imagining Zack's last stand. Her eyes lifted from the filthy ground to see the noise was just Barret firing off his gun-arm to announce himself as he entered the 7th Heaven restaurant and bar. His indistinct shouting could be heard from here, and – on cue – a stream of people exited the building. The big man emerged again, letting loose with a few more choice threats and imprecations to make sure there were no stragglers.
Tifa shook her head. Barret was about as subtle as the bomb that had destroyed Reactor 1. Not that he had a choice in this case. The structure wasn't just a bar, it was also the secret base of AVALANCHE. Better to annoy the patrons than allow the wrong person to see a meeting of the terrorist group. There was a certain familial closeness among the people in the slums, a camaraderie born of a population in a collective struggle to survive in this terrible city, but that very desperation made almost every person below the plate suspect. Very few could be trusted.
She approached the cozy little pub, glancing up at the neon sign glowing above the door. Barret greeted her with an overly cheerful grin. "Oh, hey, Tifa! Good to see you here… and on time, too! You didn't get 'distracted' by some shiny thing and wander off?"
Red eyes glared up at the dark-skinned man. "I should've raised my fee."
Barret's smile faltered, just a little, and he stepped aside. "Go on in."
"Aren't you coming?"
"I gotta' make sure no one gets too curious. Get goin'."
Tifa shrugged and brushed past the broad figure of Barret, climbing the small set of stairs and entering through the saloon-style doors. The other three AVALANCHE members were already gathered around one of the tables, eating and drinking. Their near-death experience had apparently heightened their appetites.
"Papa?" a small voice called from behind the long bar lining the back wall. A little girl ran around the corner and almost smacked against Tifa's shins. The ex-SOLDIER couldn't help the faint smile that curled her lips.
She knelt to bring herself eye-level with the child. "Sorry, Marlene. It's just me. Your papa'll be here in a minute, okay?"
Marlene took a step back, looking down shyly. "O-okay." The single word seemed to use up her entire reserve of bravery, because the little girl ran back to a corner and half-hid behind the worn-out fridge taking up most of that space. She peered out at Tifa as the woman rose back to her feet.
"Well hey there, Stranger," called the man still cleaning glasses behind the bar. "I knew you'd make it back."
"Johnny," Tifa said, inclining her head in acknowledgment to the bartender. The grin under his shock of red hair faded.
Still, he didn't take the hint. "You getting along with everyone?"
Tifa leaned back against a nearby wooden table, crossing her arms. "More or less."
The smile returned, a little teasing this time. "That's a surprise. I remember when we were younger you'd get into fights with everyone, for no reason at all. Maybe things have – "
"That's enough," Tifa said, shooting Johnny a look. More than a hint this time, it was a promise. She didn't want to talk about this. She didn't want to reminisce about the old days or take a walk down memory lane. This time, the red-haired man dropped it.
The following awkward silence was broken as Barret barreled through the saloon doors, his footsteps loud on the wooden floor. Marlene emerged from hiding upon seeing the big man. "Welcome home, Papa!"
"That's right, Daddy's home," Barret said, using a silly sing-song voice Tifa would never have imagined he was capable of. "Were you good today?" Marlene gave an exaggerated nod. "That's my girl!" He picked up the girl easily even though he only had one hand and lifted her up onto his broad shoulder. He looked back at the rest of the group. "Let's go, we're startin' the meeting." He walked to a nearby pinball machine and felt around the left edge. There was a loud grinding sound and the machine and the section of floor under it sank below the floor.
With a lack of concern that displayed how often they had done this before, the other three eco-terrorists leapt down into the secret room without even waiting for the hidden elevator to return. Tifa made to follow.
"Hey, hold up, Tiff," Johnny said, still standing behind the bar.
With an effort, the ex-SOLDIER kept her shoulders from hunching. She spun to face the young man, whom she had known since childhood. "Make it quick. And don't call me 'Tiff'."
"Sorry," he said with a shamefaced grin. "It's what the gang in Nibelheim used to call you back when you…" Seeing her expression, he trailed off. "Uh, anyway… I was wondering what you thought of the group. They're good people. I mean… Barret's noisy, but his bark is worse than his bite. Did you consider what I said? About maybe staying on a while?"
Tifa was already shaking her head. "I can't do that."
Johnny shot her a quizzical look. "You already have another job lined up? The boss is willing to pay you to work for AVALANCHE, so what's the problem? You said you were a mercenary now."
"I just… don't want to get too attached to these people."
"Yeah, sure." The red-head sounded bitter. "That sounds like you. You've been pushing people away since you were a kid, ever since – "
Before Tifa even knew what she was doing, she was up against the bar, one fist slamming into the polished wood. "Don't you dare!" She was breathing hard, and her chest ached. "Don't you say his name!"
But this time Johnny wasn't cowed, he leaned over the counter to confront her. "You can't make me forget it, Tifa! I remember when you were everyone's hero. We all looked up to you. Thought you were the sweetest, nicest, coolest girl in the world." He backed down and looked away, his intensity spent. "I miss that girl. I wish she would come back. She's the kind of person AVALANCHE needs."
They were both silent for a minute. Behind Tifa, the pinball elevator squeaked noisily as it returned to its place. She bit her lip, staring at the young man behind the bar. He had been one of her best friends once. Before everything had gone wrong. "The girl you knew is dead." The words were quiet, almost a whisper. "She's been dead for a long time, Johnny. As long as Cloud has."
The name hung between them, a shibboleth broken.
"She doesn't have to stay that way," Johnny said at last. "Just… think about it, okay? Everyone would be happy to have you as part of the group."
The ex-SOLDIER turned away, moving to the pinball machine, not wanting Johnny to see the pain the word gave her. For all her apparent callousness, she ached to belong somewhere. She was so tired of being alone. Self-imposed isolation in her childhood, protective isolation with SOLDIER where no one could be trusted, forced isolation with Shinra in their lab. She believed it was safer when she didn't let anyone get too close.
Still… maybe things would be different this time.
Blindly, she reached out and hit the secret switch to make the elevator descend. "I'll consider it," she called back through a dry mouth. But she already knew she'd say yes.
For just one more mission.
A/N: Here we see the timeline skewing a bit further from what we know, and me trying to switch the focus or emphasis on a few scenes. For the record, this... altered history for Tifa was one of the first things I wrote, but I chose to leave the specifics murky for now rather than do a big exposition dump in the first chapter. Little bits of information will be doled out as we go along.
I liked writing the "flower" scene from Aerith's perspective, felt it broke up the chapter nicely. The white rose was chosen for a reason, look it up if you're curious.
From Crisis Core, we know that someone built the 7th Heaven before the canon Tifa Lockhart was in Midgar, so it stands to reason it would still fill the same role in this "world line". Johnny slots in neatly as bartender/childhood friend, but the dynamic is clearly much different with Tifa and Johnny than it was for Cloud and Tifa.
Next time: "Against Neighbors III: Wingless Angel"