She had decided not to go up top to sell her flowers today. Instead, Aerith chose to help her adoptive mother Elmyra clean the house they shared. By the standards of the people on the plate, the residence would be considered cramped, but it was practically a mansion in the slums. The flower girl had never asked how the woman she had come to call "mom" had held onto the house and the prime real estate it was built next to – a waterfall formed from runoff from one of the upper city's clean-water reservoirs – but she assumed it was a measure of respect the other residents of Sector 5 had for the older woman and her long-dead husband that no one had tried to evict them.

The day passed quickly while the two of them worked to maintain their home… dusting, sweeping, mopping, and washing their clothes and linens. Afterwards, they spent several hours in the garden Aerith had painstakingly cultivated on the adjoining land. She remembered how Elmyra had told her not to get her hopes up, that nothing could grow in Midgar anymore, but – with innate skill and learned patience – the younger woman had succeeded.

When Elmyra asked how she had accomplished it, Aerith could only smile and shrug. "I guess it's just something I'm good at."

She left out the part about how the voices she heard in the abandoned church had helped her. Some of them – the clearer voices – had shared the secrets of coaxing life from the ground, of cooperating with the Planet itself, giving what it needed to receive more in return. Elmyra was supportive, but she could never understand the other side of Aerith. The side of her that was Cetra and could speak to the Planet and the river of souls running under its surface.

Mother and daughter toiled in comfortable silence; their years of closeness made words unnecessary. It wasn't surprising, then, how Elmyra noticed her adoptive daughter's intermittent periods of absent-mindedness and distraction. Aerith would stop in the middle of what she was doing and stare off into space, her green eyes – normally so clear – growing cloudy and distant with thought. As the afternoon grew older, amber sunlight peeked under the plate, bathing the women and the flowers in a warm glow.

Aerith rose to her feet, brushing herself clean of clinging soil. "I think I'm going to go to the church for a bit, Mom."

The older woman had long since given up trying to keep her adventurous daughter close to home, despite the dangers of wandering the slums. She let out a sigh instead. "Just be careful, all right?"

"I'll be fine," Aerith said with reassuring confidence. But she didn't move, her eyes losing focus again.

"What's on your mind, honey?" Elmyra asked at last, watching Aerith closely.

Aerith's gaze returned to the present and she smiled at her mother. "Hmmm? Oh, it's nothing, just thinking about a dream I had last night."

"A dream? A good one, I hope."

The pink bow of the younger woman's lips shrank a little. "It didn't seem like it, but… it made me happy anyway."

Elmyra didn't push for details. She never did. She had grown familiar with Aerith's strange moods and the odd things she sometimes said. Still, the flower girl felt the need to explain herself, to try and understand her own feelings about the vision she had seen in her sleep. "You know… when I was younger, before I started selling flowers up on the plate?"

"Of course." Elmyra smiled to herself, glancing at the seedlings they had transplanted from the church in Sector 5 as if comparing the tiny buds to a younger Aerith. "What about it?"

"I used to be afraid of the sky. It was too big, too open. I felt like it was going to take me away somehow." Aerith chuckled and patted the dirt. "I preferred being close to the ground. But… maybe the sky isn't as scary as I thought it was."

This time, the older woman looked at her with a curious expression. "And why is that?"

The emerald gaze turned upwards as the girl stared up through the plate. "Because I think… I think the sky might give something back instead."

This job had been doomed from the start, ever since Jessie's rigged Secure-ID cards somehow triggered a lockdown of the train AVALANCHE was taking to the Sector 5 reactor. The group had been forced to jump from the moving vehicle and travel the remaining distance on foot, crawling into onto the plate from below like rats in the walls. Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge had pulled out after helping Tifa and Barret infiltrate the reactor, Jessie clearly racked with guilt over what she perceived as another failure on her shoulders.

The ex-SOLDIER and the eco-terrorist leader made their way into the bowels of the power plant, planting a new, improved explosive device in a similar location as the last one. For a brief time, it looked like luck had joined their side again, but it was a lie. Shinra's lie. On the bridge in front of the reactor, the duo had been met with a cadre of Shinra troops blocking their way, and President Shinra himself had made an appearance, heralded by the steady clicking of his feet against the metal walkway.

"So you're the infamous AVALANCHE…" the older man's voice was smooth and controlled. As impeccable as the suit he wore. His shoes gleamed. They probably cost more than what Tifa was making for this job.

Barret stepped forward, veins bulging on his neck. "Damn straight!"

President Shinra turned his regard to Tifa. "And you. I know you. The female SOLDIER. Lockhart, was it? It was reported that you were killed in action, but here you are, siding with terrorists. What a disappointment."

Despite everything, she couldn't help but feel a stab of dismay at the callous disregard for her survival. Though Tifa owed this man nothing, his dismissal of her almost made her wince.

"Fuck off, President Fatass!" Barret, faced with the head of monster he had sworn to destroy, was livid. "We're the ones wiping the floor with your army and blowing up your reactors, and you call us disappointments?"

Somehow, despite his appearance of a well-fed, shorter-than-average man of middle-age, the president was still intimidating. Against Barret's rage, he looked almost bored. "I would say those soldiers payed for their failures in a most decisive way, wouldn't you? As for the reactor, well… such things can be replaced. You have to sacrifice greens to catch a chocobo, after all."

"The hell are you sayin'?"

President Shinra glanced at his watch. "You'll find out soon. We both have appointments to keep. I have a dinner to attend and you… I've arranged something special for you." Tifa turned her head as her sharp ears caught a buzzing, droning sound over the pulse of the reactor. Boxing them in from the opposite side as the ranks of Shinra troops was a new mechanical monstrosity, a hovering, man-shaped robot bristling with weapons. "This is 'Airbuster'," the president continued, cold satisfaction coloring his words. "A techno-soldier. It's something new our Weapons Development Department has come up with."

A helicopter rose from below the bridge, and the head of Shinra Inc. stepped into it with practiced ease. "Do have the decency to die quickly."

Barret raised his gun-arm, pointing it at the ascending helicopter. "Hold on! We got lots more to talk about, you bastard!"

Tifa meanwhile, had drawn the Buster Sword, watching the big robot with wary eyes. It advanced on her in short bursts, and she gave way before it, drawing it past where her companion was standing waving his weapon. "Barret! We gotta' do something about this thing first!" The dark-skinned man sword violently, but turned his attention to the Airbuster. The ex-SOLDIER smiled tightly. Now the techno-soldier was pinned between them.

She attacked in a rush, darting forward to feint at the robot and getting its attention. "Hit it from behind!" she shouted. Barret did as she instructed, pouring rounds into the more sensitive machinery at the rear of the automaton. It wheeled around to face this new threat, exposing itself to a punishing slash from the Buster Sword. Something sparked and exploded and the techno-soldier froze mid-turn.

"Just a dumb machine," Tifa declared with a predatory smile. Her triumph was short-lived, however, as heretofore hidden machine guns emerged and fired at her. She leapt back, raising her sword again, hearing and feeling bullets striking the broad blade and the catwalk beneath her. Too close. She knew better than to underestimate Shinra technology.

Barret's voice rose above the sound of gunfire, cursing again as the rocket launcher on the robot's shoulder zeroed in on his position. He shifted his aim and a lucky shot hit the missile just as it emerged. The explosive detonated in the Airbuster's face, blowing off a significant chunk of its metallic head and upper torso.

Too easy. Even as the thought crossed her mind, Tifa saw the sparks wreathe the remainder of the robot. It fell to the catwalk, shaking violently. The ex-SOLDIER saw the trap they had fallen into. The Airbuster was never meant to kill them, it was a…

"Bomb!" she screamed. There was no time to react. The robot exploded, throwing Barret back and destroying the length of catwalk under the machine's bulk. Tifa scrambled away, but the tongue of bridge she was on tilted crazily, sending her tumbling towards the hole caused by the explosion. For a terrible instant, she felt the absence of ground beneath her, but her flailing hands caught something, stopping her with a lurch.

Tifa fought back the panic rising through her guts, freezing her lungs and burning her throat. Panic wasn't going to help her here. All it would do is make her hands sweaty, and if she lost her grip on the narrow pipes sticking from the innards of the broken bridge she was dangling from, she would fall.

She would fall.

A moment of dizziness made her light-headed. It wasn't acrophobia exactly. The heights didn't affect her, only the falling. She remembered the sensation all too well, and the memory was not something she wanted to relive. Her crimson eyes squeezed shut. Not again.

"Dammit! Hold on, Tifa!" Barret reached out for her, but the gap in the bridge caused by the destruction of the techno soldier they had destroyed was too large, and he was on the wrong side of it. The big man leaned out even further, making his own position precarious. "It's no good! You're gonna' have to pull yourself up!"

Easier said than done. But he was right. "You just get out of here!" Tifa shouted, struggling to get a more secure grip on the jagged edges of pipe which were here only handholds. "The reactor'll blow any second!"

The dark-skinned eco-terrorist hesitated, but they both knew there was nothing he could do to help her. "Shit! I'm sorry, girl. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Hey, I'm not dead yet," Tifa grunted, using the strength of her arms to try and pull herself back onto the walkway. "Stop talking like I am." The Buster Sword on her back weighed her down and – for a moment – she regretted taking on Zack's burden. Nonetheless, it seemed for a moment as if she were making progress.

Then the reactor, the bridge, the air itself shook as the bomb she and Barret had planted at the power plant's heart exploded. Before she could react, Tifa's grip slipped and she plummeted down to the ground fifty meters below, catching a glimpse of Barret's bluff, bearded face twisted with anguish as he watched her drop.

And – just like twelve years ago – Tifa fell. This time, she doubted anyone would be there to save her.

She's hurt. The ache in her body is like a red tide ebbing and flowing, tracing lines to define her limbs. A cold wind makes her tremble, and that only intensifies the pain. All is silent but for the distant crack of stone and the whisper of the breeze. Wet stone presses against her cheek.

She knows this place.

- Just like before –

"Please…" she begs without opening her eyes. She knows what she'll find. "Not again."

- You're fine, Tifa. Take it slowly. –

"I know… I know."

"It's you!" The voice was familiar. "Are you all right? Can you move?"

- That's it. Open your eyes. –

She shakes her head. "Don't make me look. Don't make me see you lying there."

A gasp. "There you go. I'm so glad you're alive."

For a moment, she wavers. The dread certainty that comes only with a half-conscious mind has her convinced she's back in the canyon in the Nibel Mountains. If she wakes up, she'll see him. See his little body, twisted and broken from the fall. It wouldn't be the first time. She's had this dream before… more times than she could count.

"Hello? Please wake up."

The poignancy of the plea broke through the last of Tifa's subconscious hesitation. Her eyes cracked open, revealing a blur of colors. Pink and red like a Nibelheim sunset, brown and green like earth and grass. It was nature. It was life. It was heartbreakingly beautiful after weeks spent in the dirty gray metropolis. Drawn against her will, one hand raised, reaching out for the vision. Soft fingers grasped the outstretched limb, and the blur resolved into a familiar figure.

"Where… am I?"

The flower girl Tifa had met in Sector 8 squeezed her hand supportively. "In an abandoned church in the Sector 5 slums. You came crashing down from above and scared me half-to-death."

The slums. Tifa shook her head to clear it. "I fell from the plate."

"The roof must have slowed you down and the flowers cushioned your fall. You were lucky."

"Flowers?" the ex-SOLDIER shifted, feeling the hard edge of the Buster Sword beneath her back and soft petals brushing against her arms and legs. She pulled her hand back from the flower girl's grasp and struggled to stand, to remove herself from the precious patch of blossoms she was lying in. "I'm so sorry."

The other woman giggled. "Don't worry, the flowers are pretty resilient. Kind of like you." There was a hint of teasing in her tone. "Even though they say nothing grows in Midgar, they have no problem growing in this place." She stood and gazed upward. The sinking sun angled in through long-broken windows and lit upon her rich brown hair. "I love it here."

Tifa realized she was staring. With an effort, she pulled her gaze away to glance around the rest of the building. The church was in a state of elegant decay. The wooden floor was splintered and shattered, there was no glass in any of the windows, and only a few sagging pews remained. It must have been over a hundred years old, at least. It had been a century since Minerva worship was still popular enough to warrant this kind of structure. Still, it retained a kind of noble dignity and quiet beauty. "I can see why," she said at last.

A bright smile flashed in her direction. "I was hoping I'd see you again. You remember me, right?"

"Of course. I put the flower you gave me in water."

Another giggle and the girl strolled to the other side of the flower patch, kneeling to caress one of the silky blooms with a single finger. "I'm glad. Thanks again for buying it."

Tifa finally managed to get to her feet and step carefully away from the flowers. She rubbed her arms and tested her muscles, taking stock of her injuries. Everything hurt, but nothing seemed to be broken or permanently damaged. She looked up at the hole she had made in the vaulted roof. The girl was right. She had been lucky. The absurdity of the situation made Tifa chuckle. "I gotta' say… you're taking this all pretty well."

"Believe it or not, this has happened before," the other woman said, throwing the ex-SOLDIER a grin. At Tifa's astonished stare, the flower girl laughed. "I'm serious." She leaned her head back, ringlets of brown hair falling past her shoulders. "Besides…" the smile turned shy. "I had a dream that told me I might see you again."

"You did?" Tifa tilted her head, curious.

She nodded, that faint smile still on her lips. "I dreamed a wingless angel fell to earth. And here you are."

The blush creeping up Tifa's neck and shoulders was uncontrollable, so she settled for looking down, hiding it behind the curtain of her long dark hair as best she could. "I'm no angel."

"Maybe not anymore." Her tone was light, easy and she got to her feet again to cross over to Tifa's side. "Or not yet. Do you mind if I ask your name?"

"It's Tifa Lockhart," the ex-SOLDIER said. Something about the girl made it a simple choice to share her whole name.

"My name's Aerith. Aerith Gainsborough." She held out a hand with a smile and Tifa shook it. Her skin was smooth and cool. "Nice to meet you. So can I ask how you ended up here?"

The dark-haired woman hesitated, looking for a good answer. "It's… kind of a long story. Let's just say I was on a job and things went wrong."

"I'm guessing that's an understatement," Aerith said drily. "'A job'? What is it you do?"

"Oh… this and that. I'm working as a mercenary."

"Sounds exciting," Aerith said, clasping her hands together and leaning forward a bit.

Tifa felt a smile cross her face. "It has its moments."

The flower girl smiled back. "I'm sure. But what did you –"

Her question was cut off by the sound of shoes clicking against wood. Tifa looked over Aerith's shoulder and felt herself go cold. A figure in a dark suit was standing near the doorway. The suit was unbuttoned, the dress shirt untucked, and the young man wearing the clothes had a lazy, careless look about him, but Tifa wasn't fooled.

"Bad timing," Aerith muttered, looking back at the intruder.

The red-headed man waved a diffident hand. "Don't mind me, yeah? Finish your conversation." His voice was a match for his look. Lofty and indolent.

Aerith seemed to take him at face value and faced Tifa again. "A mercenary, huh? Does that mean you're available to work as a bodyguard?"

Tifa's crimson gaze was still fixed on the stranger. "That's right."

"Then I want to hire you to get me out of here and take me home."

"Deal," Tifa said. She smiled faintly. "We'll work out the payment later."

Aerith eyes shifted away, putting a hand to her own cheek. "Oh dear… all I have to pay you with is my body." Tifa's jaw dropped and she felt her face go hot. The flower girl laughed. "You should see your face! I was joking." She glanced over shoulder as if she had just remembered the man in the suit. "I'll come up with something."

Tifa shook her head, fighting back the smile the other woman had put on her face. It was time to get down to business. She stepped past the girl and approached the red-head. "Look," she began. "I don't know who exactly you are, but what business do the Turks have here?"

"I could ask the same of you," the man said with a lazy shrug. "I haven't heard of a SOLDIER being down here since…" he trailed off. "Anyway, just stand aside, we got business with the young lady here." A trio of Shinra troopers filed in behind the Turk.

"Shinra business?" Tifa asked, reaching back to touch the hilt of the Buster Sword. "Forget it."

One of the troopers stepped forward, half-raising his rifle. "Reno! Want her taken out?"

The suited man, Reno, raised a hand to stop his underling. "Not quite yet. There's something familiar about her…"

"Don't you dare fight here!" Aerith said from behind Tifa. "You'll ruin the flowers." Her voice lowered to address the ex-SOLDIER. "There's a way out in the back."

Tifa gave a single nod. Impulsively, she grabbed the flower girl's hand and dashed for the rear of the church, pulling Aerith along with her. The next room was a mess. It looked like there had once been a stairway winding around the perimeter, but the flooring was demolished by what appeared to be the tip of a giant missile or rocket which had crashed through one wall and lodged in place. It was a miracle the thing hadn't exploded. The dark-haired woman paused, unsure of which direction to go, but Aerith stepped forward, disentangling her hand from Tifa's and pointed to the still-intact stairs leading up on the other side of the chamber.

She jumped over the gap, barely making it to the other side, and Tifa followed after, her SOLDIER-enhanced strength making the leap easier for her. To her surprise, Aerith grabbed her hand again and led her up the stairs to the next level. Tifa could see now where they were headed. Beyond another set of stairs, a series of interconnected rafters threaded back and forth where the ceiling used to be. They could use those to escape through the hole in the roof and out into the slums.

There was another gap in the unstable wooden floor ahead of them. Tifa set her jaw, taking the lead once more and increasing her speed, forcing Aerith to do the same. "Hey… wait!" the flower girl protested. But it was too late. Tifa crossed over the gap, pulling her companion with her. She landed firmly on the other side, but Aerith teetered at the edge, almost falling back onto the sloping surface of the rusted, un-detonated rocked. Her hand slipped from Tifa's and she tipped back, eyes going wide.

Tifa spun, grabbing the girl's arm with one strong hand before Aerith could topple over the edge. "I won't let you fall," she promised between grit teeth, yanking the other woman forward. Aerith collapsed against her and Tifa's arms instinctively went around her slender body to support her. She smelled like the flower Tifa had bought.

"That was close," Aerith breathed.

"Sorry." Tifa reluctantly released her companion as she stood on her own again. "You okay?" The flower girl nodded.

Reno's voice came from below them. "The Ancient's getting away!"

"Attack! Attack! Stop them!" One of the over-eager troopers shouted. There was a burst of machine-gun fire, loud at this distance, and bullets tore through the rotting wood near their feet, throwing up splinters and dust.

"Dammit! Hold your fire!" Reno shouted. "Tseng wants her alive!"

"Time to go!" Tifa spun and ran to the last staircase, pulling Aerith behind her again before the Turk could change his mind. The duo gained the tentative safety of the rafters and Tifa took a moment to tip over a barrel sitting precariously on one wooden beam, knocking it into the cluster of Shinra operatives. She grinned at the cries and curses rising from the lower level and followed Aerith out onto the roof.

They took a moment, looking down into the structure, seeing the chaos their escape had thrown the small group into. Aerith laughed at the sight of Reno disentangling himself from a bumbling trooper and Tifa laughed with her. A genuine moment of mirth. The first since… she couldn't remember when.

"They haven't gotten me yet," Aerith said, emerald eyes dancing with amusement.

The ex-SOLDIER tilted her head. "You mean this isn't the first time they've come after you?" Aerith shook her head. "The Turks are… well if SOLDIER is Shinra's sword, the Turks are their knife. They're spies, assassins, kidnappers, and anything else the company needs them to be. Why're they after you?" Aerith's lips tightened, but she didn't answer. "Right," Tifa said. "Well it doesn't matter to me anyway. Let's get out of here."

They made their way deeper into the slums, crossing roofs and giant mounds of garbage and construction debris. Tifa kept the pace easy, aware of her companion's lack of training, but Aerith kept up reasonably well. "You'd make a good SOLDIER," she said, watching the girl leap across a series of corroded metal platforms.

Aerith looked at her sharply before letting out a laugh. "I don't think so. I didn't even know they let women in."

"Very few," Tifa admitted. "And it's… well, it's not an easy thing to do."

"But you did it." It wasn't a question. "You made it into SOLDIER."

This time it was Tifa's turn to be surprised.

"That's right. How did you know?"

Aerith stepped closer, peering into her face. "Your eyes. They have the glow."

Instinctively, Tifa stepped back, glancing away. "It's from the Mako treatment," she explained. "Every SOLDIER gets it." A pause and then a self-depreciating laugh. "They freak a lot of people out."

"I think they're beautiful," Aerith said. The words were so blunt, spoken without embarrassment or hesitation, that Tifa felt herself flush. She couldn't think of anything to say, turning around instead to hide the color in her cheeks.

She cleared her throat. "Come on. My job's not done yet." Aerith's giggle was quiet, and Tifa chose to ignore it.

I shouldn't be here, Tifa thought, sitting gingerly on the bed in the tiny room Aerith and Elmyra had offered her for the night. The Buster Sword rested against the wall near the door, close enough where she could reach it if she needed to. She leaned back onto the soft mattress, shoulders still tense. How long had it been since she had slept in a real bed?

Not since Nibelheim.

Her fingers twitched. With an effort, she shoved the memories back into a dark corner of her mind. Tifa knew she should've insisted on going back to Sector 7 after escorting Aerith back to her home, but the flower girl had insisted on the ex-SOLDIER staying the night and Tifa had allowed herself to be convinced. She didn't want to leave. She had never connected with anyone as quickly as she had bonded with Aerith. It was like they had been friends for a long time already.

Through the thin wall separating their rooms, she could hear the brown-haired woman moving, humming to herself. Tifa pictured her smile, her bright green gaze. Aerith hadn't been frightened of her Mako eyes or her sword. She wasn't suspicious of Tifa's past with the Shinra. She simply accepted her as she was. It was… refreshing.

Elmyra, however, as grateful as she had been to see her daughter safe, was more cautious. She had waited until Aerith left the room, then asked Tifa to leave before morning. She didn't want her daughter involved in any danger. The ex-SOLDIER understood and agreed. It was safer for Aerith if she were to head back to Sector 7 alone, safer to leave the girl behind.

She just had to wait… wait until Aerith fell asleep. Tifa's lids lowered over crimson eyes. But she was so tired. It wouldn't hurt to rest. Just for a little while.

Her eyes closed and she was asleep almost instantly.

She dreams again. For the first time in years, she's not haunted by memories of Nibelheim. Instead, she dreams she's watching Aerith tend to her flowers in the abandoned church. A persistent itch around her shoulders keeps distracting her, however, and she reaches behind herself to scratch vigorously at the area. She feels a strange anomaly, a texture she doesn't expect and pulls her hand back.

There's a bloody feather sticking to her finger.

Aerith turns to her with a smile. "I dreamed a wingless angel fell to earth. And here you are."

A/N: Dialogue, dialogue, dialogue. I enjoy writing it, I enjoy reading it when it's well done. I've got to keep this in mind when I work on other projects.

This chapter was a lot longer than I intended, and it didn't actually get as far as I wanted, but that's okay. I like how it turned out.

Next time... "Violence Against Neighbors IV: Don of the Slums"