Cloud's lips pressed together into a thin line. They were dry. He licked them tentatively.
Where had she gone?
He knew she was still quite upset with him, and he regretted the fact that he could not go back with her. He closed himself off to the part of him that was screaming for him to.
He knew she didn't want to see him. But her wishes were not his priority right now, her safety was. He sighed as he kept going, down a randomly chosen, invisible path.
Who knows, I might be walking farther and farther away from her.
He knew she was quite capable of taking care of herself, thank you very much, and had been capable for many years already. He still wanted to protect her, though, ridiculously enough. All this time later, she was still the pretty little fairy who could play him like a marionette, play him wild, play him from a thousand miles distance.
"Cloud."
His eyes widened in recognition of the voice. He spun around, unable to hide the relief he felt spreading though him.
"Cloudcloudcloudcloudcloud." she chanted, as if reciting a poem of which there was no metre.
He grew uneasy. Her face was different. Her skin, it looked like it didn't belong on her, wan and green-tinged. It wasn't her smile she was smiling.
"It's just a name, you know," Tifa said. "The name of a boy I knew a long time ago, in Nibelheim. It's all I can remember. He died. He died- he made me a promise but he couldn't keep it."
"No, Tifa, please.." Cloud shook his head desperately. "It's not true, Tifa, I'm right here.."
"He died," Tifa said, shrugging at him.
Cloud sat up, gasping for breath. He wiped cold sweat off his forehead. He hated dreams.
He stood up after regaining his breath. Sheathed his sword and walked in a chosen direction. Somehow he knew which way to go.
After not too long, he found her. She was curled up, sitting on the ground, slender legs drawn close to her. It made him smile. He figured he could probably hold her simply by wrapping one arm around her, the way she was sitting now.
He couldn't tell if she was awake or asleep. On an impulse, he sat down behind her and ran an ungloved hand through her hair.
No reaction.
He loved her hair, long and soft, a silly curl at the tip. He ran both his hands through it gently, carefully untangling small knots. He found it very restful to do so. At the same time, he had to keep himself from laughing. Imagine the look on Barret or Cid's face. If they ever see me like this, I'll be christened Sissy-boy for the rest of my life.
He vaguely remembered how to make a braid -Tifa had even taught him that, in some distant childhood- and he tried it out with her hair. He carefully hung the braid over her shoulder, and then looked at her back.
The back of a woman is one of the loveliest things there is, he thought vaguely as he ran a finger down her spine.
He suddenly realised that, at any other moment, he would have hated himself for doing this. If you don't plan on going back, why put yourself through this? You're only making things more difficult.
He shook his head, fed up with himself for the so-manieth time that hour. The only part of his life that made him feel good was sitting in front of him, fast asleep.
*
He was dead, they were all dead. She felt Anger and Hatred piling themselves up like bricks to form a wall around her. Anger and Hatred to build, to cover Anguish and Despair.
She had run all the way to the Reactor, and found her father lying there, Masamune protruding from his bloodied chest. Her father, dead. She had knelt down beside him and whispered a promise, a pledge for revenge. Pulling the sword cleanly out of him, she continued on. He was dead, they were all dead.
There he was, the crazed general, coming down those stairs...
She stormed at him, sobbing and screaming at the same time, tears blinding her, sword held high.
In a fluid motion Sephiroth had taken back his sword and slashed her with it.
What an incredibly odd sensation, she thought dully as she fell down the stairs she had charged up moments ago. Feeling your skin being pierced, your flesh torn away...
The warmth of her own blood licked at her fingers as it flowed out rythmically. She hadn't the strength to press down on it. She laid there, staring up glassily. She became very aware of her own breathing, uneven, coming in in gasps, going out in coughs. After a while, she realised there was someone else in the chamber filled with the large tanks, someone else having difficulty breathing. She wanted to get up and go to them, but she couldn't feel her legs anymore. She wanted to say something to whoever it was, but she was afraid she might choke in her own blood. She stayed still.
After a small eternity, something in the room changed, somebody walked in. She heard two soft voices, one urgent, one half-dead.
Then, as she struggled to keep any darkness from creeping in, a pair of eyes appeared above her, and met hers in shock.
"Oh my God, Tifa.." A voice, somehow familiar, whispered. Strong arms lifted her and carried her. She felt she were the child in the Rockaby, Baby nursery rhyme. She felt she were lying in a boat on a warm spring day, the waves kindly cradling her.
Then she was carefully leaned against a cold wall. She felt something like rain touch her skin, and the gash that was slowly claiming her life began to sting. She found a little strength to move her head, and she saw blond hair glinting in the coppery reactor light.
"I'm so sorry I let this happen to you." The voice murmured sadly.
"Cloud..?" It had to be.
A small smile.
"You're gonna be fine, Tifa. Just stay here, don't move. I.. I should be back soon."
"..Cloud.." she started to cry. He had come. He had come to save her.
He hugged her as carefully as he could and pressed a small kiss to her forehead. "I kept my promise once, already, see?" he smiled as he wiped away the tears on her cheeks, the blood on her lips. "I'll keep it again, as often as you need me too."
A last caress, and he was gone.
But Tifa remembered his words, and waited. When footsteps eventually hurried themselves to her side, she even managed a smile. But it wasn't Cloud.
"We have to get you out of here." Zangan muttered and lifted her. He couldn't hear her protests.
No! I have to wait.. wait for Cloud.. then everything faded, and she felt she were lying in a boat on a warm spring day.
Hands ran carefully along her back, warming her, putting her at peace. They found their way through her hair, untangling small knots. They trailed the straight of her spine and the round of her hips. She leaned backwards into the lap of whoever the hands belonged to. Fingers traced the line of her jaw up to her eyebrow and then down to her neck. It felt delightful. A shiver ran through her, and she found herself bare again.
A single tear that leaked out of her closed eye, without a reason, really, was wiped away. She wished it had been kissed away, and she smiled. A little while later, she remembered who she was and she opened her eyes.
She was lying in someone's lap. Cloud's lap. She looked up at him, his face a small distance away from hers. His eyes were closed. They opened as she raised a single finger and ran it along his lips.
Half a smile cracked on his face and he took her hand, kissed it softly. It was the most thrilling sensation she had had in her life -well, almost, she corrected herself as she recalled those lips on hers, a relatively short time ago.
"You saved me, in Nibelheim." she murmured. Her fingers were still in his hand, her body was still in his lap, her heart was still in his kiss. "You kept me from dying."
"Please don't leave me again." Was all he said. He was the only person she knew who could take words like that and then speak them so casually.
"Cloud, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you."
His face didn't register any emotion other than a strange kind of peace. Then she realised she hadn't opened her mouth. Instead of trying again, she curled closer to him and stayed that way. He couldn't stop meeting his fingers with the soft of her skin.