Disclaimer: Don't own Final Fantasy VII, or Vincent, or Tifa, or any of the other Final Fantasy VII characters. Just inserting them into the machine of my imagination and watching what pops out.

Destination: Understanding

by: thelittletree

(Hello again! I can see the end approaching! A couple more chapters, I think, and an epilogue, hopefully. Thanks to all of you for reading and for reviewing! Truthfully, I think this fic is going to be my last sojourn into the writing part of Fanfiction.net. Don't quote me, but I have a feeling. Life is starting to intrude as summer continues, and I can't hide from it forever! But you've all been a great, encouraging audience, and I've really enjoyed myself. Thanks!)

'The worst loneliness is not to be comfortable with yourself.' -- Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)

It was the early evening. Vincent had come back once, smiling and apologetic, to kiss her and let her know he had to leave for a couple of hours. Hunting, she knew, and she'd squeezed his fingers and let him go, content to be left alone with a good dose of painkillers and a book lent to her by a sympathetic nurse, since they wouldn't let her walk down to the natal ward. Halfway through chapter three, however, there was a knock at the door to her room that was too early to be Vincent -- and too bold to be Cloud, though she'd been half expecting him since Vincent's departure.

She sighed a little and put the book down beside her. "Come in."

And Barret entered with his usual unassuming brashness, giving her a brief once-over before closing the door behind him. "Tif." He moved toward the chair Vincent had occupied hours ago, but he didn't sit down. Feeling partially responsible, she read in his stiff body language, but he'd obviously made up his mind to come and see for himself that she was all right. In the end, his conscience had a booming voice that might've rivaled his own in volume.

"Gonna be okay?"

A simple question, like a greeting, but it brought to mind a particular time he'd asked it before, years ago. And it made a part of her ache suddenly for that camaraderie, that security, even in the midst of so much danger and uncertainty.

They'd brought Cloud with them, back to Seventh Heaven -- a strange, unexpected visit from her past, and with it an unprecedented jolt to her heart -- and she'd been at the bar until long after midnight, thoughtfully polishing shot glasses. And he'd known. Had sat himself down on a stool with a grunt of tired muscles. "Gonna be okay, Tif?"

And, of course, she'd nodded. Always the tough one. Not fool enough to let herself fall for a boy-turned-man she hardly knew and could hardly get a full sentence out of.

"Yeah, I'll be all right."

But this time, Barret didn't seem ready to take her at her word. And she wondered what was going through his mind as he stood looking down at her, almost frowning his concern. Wondered if the accident (the fact that she'd been walking away from Cloud at the time) might've made him start to doubt the mercy of his mission.

He didn't try to get any other answer out of her, though. He simply took a breath and, as if noticing the chair for the first time, sat down heavily beside her.

"Don't need to tell you, you scared the livin' shit out of us."

"Mm, sorry about that."

And though a corner of his mouth quirked, she knew he was in no mood to be cheered up or brushed off. He wasn't looking at her, either, as he began to rub his large hand over what she presumed was an imaginary itch on his knee. So when he began to speak, she was fairly sure she was hearing the last and deepest drops of what had probably been an angry, moody storm to everyone else. She had often ended up being the one he talked to when weighty emotions had finally settled into thoughts.

"I was always really proud of you, Tif," he began quietly, his voice the gruff rumble she had always loved, the one he'd used in confidence when they'd been alone and talking about hope despite all of the things they'd lost and lived through. A tone of voice she hadn't heard in a long time. "Always the brains and the sense behind all o' us. You an' Jesse. An' you were right about Cloud that day, saying he should be leader. You always seemed to see everything a step ahead."

"Barret..."

But he held up his hand, and she got the sense that he didn't want to be comforted. And she wondered for a second if he was trying to apologize, though she wasn't sure she could believe he might've given up so easily.

"I didn't know about him at first, when you two settled down together. Myrna always told me it was hard bein' with a man who feels like he's got some responsibility out there waiting for him. Like Cloud did when he said he thought he might still be able to find Aeris. But when I saw you two at Cid's wedding..."

He glanced up then, and she caught the slightly angry confusion in his expression a moment before he looked away with a breath. Shrugged his massive shoulders. "...you just seemed so happy. That's why I don't understand why you would leave 'im. You know, for Vincent. It's just...it's not like the Tifa I thought I knew, that's all I'm sayin'."

And she remembered the night, standing in the street, chill forgotten in the shivering reality of the choice in front of her, between truth and self-deception -- with Vincent and Lily and Nibelheim like a warm, beckoning haven behind her. In the end, when it had mattered, she had not been indecisive. She had known what was right and what was wrong, and even Barret wouldn't have been able to shake her resolve at that moment.

"I had to leave, Barret." She touched the barrel of the gun on his arm, knowing the gesture would reach him even if the warmth of her fingers didn't. Wanting to prolong the communication-conducive atmosphere long enough for him to hear her out. "I knew I couldn't live with him again until things had been worked out. I wasn't leaving him. I just needed time, or it would've been the same as it was before."

He blinked once, and then he was leaning forward with all the appearance of being really and truly confused. "What you talking about? Live with him again -- weren't you livin' with him already?"

And Tifa frowned, trying to understand what Barret was referring to. And felt a sudden, faint suspicion start to grow in her mind. "No, I...I was living in Nibelheim at that time. After Cloud left, I stayed in Kalm by myself for a year, and then I was in Nibelheim."

And now he was scowling. "When was this?"

She spent a moment trying to figure out the timeline before simply giving in to the slightly brain-fuzzing effects of the painkillers. "About a year after we moved in together. Didn't..." Suspicion growing stronger. "...didn't he tell you about that?"

But Barret didn't answer her. "You're sayin' he left you first?"

And everything was falling into place, though she didn't want to believe what it was all pointing to. Didn't want to think Cloud capable of this sort of deception. Though...

Barret's 'betrayal', his anger at Vincent, the way some of them had seemed so surprised, so ready to blame Vincent when she didn't want to talk to Cloud. Of course it was justifiable, she supposed, if you believed that she'd been stolen away instead of abandoned and rescued.

"Yes, he left me first. And then, I...well, I..." But she was hesitating on the rest. Barret didn't need to know about the bridge, she couldn't help feeling. It didn't matter. It was in the past, and she'd put it too far behind her to make it an issue again. So she carefully set it aside and continued. "Well, that's when Vincent found me and brought me to Nibelheim. It was only supposed to be temporary, until I could get my feet back under me, but..."

She thought about Vincent. About seeing him for the first time in the daylight in his home. About poker, and beer, and shared glances, and one gasping kiss. About trust and conversations and prying him out of his shell. And finally about love and that first night in her apartment, on the cold and warming linoleum of her hallway.

"But it didn't work out that way."

Barret was looking at the blanket covering her as he frowned, maybe comparing the two stories he had been told and trying to decide what was more plausible. And then he glanced up and looked her in the eye.

"Myrna was right, I guess," he mumbled.

And she sighed, feeling relieved that she still had her old friend's trust. "I guess." Smiled a little and patted the metal of his gun. "I did love him, Barret. I loved him a lot. And I believe he loved me, too. But that wasn't enough. He was searching for something. And it wasn't a thing I could give him. As much as I wanted to, and as much as I tried to."

There were a few moments of silence, and Tifa knew Barret was trying to come to terms with everything, with the idea that Cloud -- leader-Cloud, the young man he'd come to respect and admire, (the young man who had been so good at keeping a lot of his pain and uncertainty hidden away from everyone) -- might've lied to him.

And Tifa knew his natural disposition was to label things either black or white, knew that if she didn't say anything Cloud would inevitably become an unsalvageable black piece on the board of Barret's mind. And knew, after a moment of debating with herself, that she couldn't just let it happen.

"Barret, he might not have meant to keep you in the dark. It's true, I did leave Kalm with Vincent. That just wasn't the whole story."

But Barret only shook his head. "I dunno. He let me think you left him, that Vincent was the one who put himself where he didn't belong. And it just didn't make sense to me, that you'd leave Cloud for Vince when you looked so happy b'fore. But now it makes sense, that Cloud'd lie so he could talk to ya..."

And Tifa could feel that she was losing ground, though she wasn't ready to give up yet. Cloud had done a lot of things to hurt her, but she'd known, or suspected, from the beginning that it had all stemmed from ways he had been hurt before. Didn't justify it, exactly, but it let her understand where he was coming from. Why he had such a hard time trusting, and loving. And she wanted Barret to understand, too, before he passed judgment.

"Barret, wait. You told me yourself, he's trying to put some things behind him. Maybe he just needed to feel he had someone on his side, and he was afraid you would turn him away if you knew the whole story."

"Still shouldn't have lied, Tifa." And he stood, too stubborn and set in his ways to be swayed by a few words. "You want friends, you gotta be honest with 'em." And then he headed for the exit.

"Barret, wait a minute..."

"I'll see ya, Tif," he muttered as he opened the door, speaking over his shoulder. "Hope you're feelin' better." And then he left.

And Tifa wanted to bury her head in her hands. Barret was too straightforward for her to be believe he wouldn't confront Cloud about this. And, as much as she wanted to think that Cloud might just do the honourable thing and simply leave to figure things out on his own, she couldn't convince herself. He was hurting, and he was alone, and would be more alone after this.

And she'd been wrong before. He had changed in three years. Three years had brought him into hell, taken away most of his scruples.

And she had no idea what she was going to say to him when he came into this room. And not sure if she should start to hope Vincent was back by then -- or if she should hope he wasn't.