AN: I have a plan! My crazed mind has finally thought of an end direction for this (for truly, I write rather haphazardly)! The end is coming, once I figure out how to get there. Oh, and as for last chapter, one clarification. Vincent calls Cloud, 'Strife' cause he's a little peeved at him. Not homicidal, but peeved. That was perhaps the hardest conversation I've had to write yet... so many ackwardnesses. Now for this chapter...

Chapter 19 – Impromptu Idee

So maybe suggesting Midgar wasn't one of her brightest ideas. She could see several downsides to that now. First case in point: it was fucking far away. And she didn't want to resort to the one thing that was nagging in the back of her mind. But she was tired, and certain things were bound to slip.

"Cloo-ud..." she whined. Yes, Yuffie Kisaragi had resorted to whining.

He's like a goddamn machine sometimes. 'Let's mosey' and keep doing that for a fucking century...

"What?" he asked, blinking out of the autopilot setting his mind and body had fallen into. She grabbed his arm, stopping his movement.

"We. Need. To. Stop," she said, standing with her arms akimbo, a determined crinkle in her nose. He couldn't help but smile at her stubborn posture.

"Alright, if you say so..." he said teasingly, watching for the frown to appear on her face. She obliged him.

You're enjoying this, aren't ya? My pain and suffering...

They set up camp quietly, as Yuffie was still a little miffed at his teasing. She wasn't really angry at him; she suffered from damaged pride more than anything. Some things about her would never change, and no matter how hard she tried, she could never get over her foolish pride. She would just have to teach him to deal with it.

The sun was beginning to dip near the horizon when they finally finished, with some blankets thrown near a gradually growing fire. Another thing they had forgotten in their rush was a tent; a fact that Yuffie was cursing silently to herself about. But for now they were settled, sitting on opposites sides of the fire, waiting for the other to begin speaking.

But Yuffie was far too impatient to wait long.

"What are you looking for, in Midgar?" Yuffie bluntly asked, all formalities aside. Cloud took a moment, as if trying to figure out his reasons himself.

"You could say..." he began after a time, "...my demons. Or at least the biggest of them." She raised an eyebrow at him, in mocking imitation of another person she found irritatingly vague.

"And that would be..." she prodded. He gave her a sharp and quick humorless chuckle.

"I need to see the church," he said, staring straight across the fire at her, "And tell her goodbye. In the ruins of Midgar." Her eyes opened wide and she gaped at him.

That monster infested, energy radiating goo puddling, scary things that go bump in the night Midgar? You've got to be kidding me, Spike.

"WHAT?!" she shouted, when she finally found her tongue again, "BY OURSELVES?!" He nodded, as if she had just told him there would be a slight inconvenience, like a pothole in the road.

"If I remember, you did say you were the best of the ninjas," he said smugly, even as she glared at him, "You could even beat me up." She snorted.

"Is this a suicide mission?" she asked, an unusually serious tone in her voice, "'Cause I'm not quite up for that. I'm too young to die and all." He grinned.

"Don't you trust me?" he asked, a combination of innocence and carelessness in his features. It was then that she realized he didn't have the faintest idea what they were doing. Only a slight nudge towards Midgar, for some strange reason.

Do I trust you? Of course. Do I trust you with that fucked up brain of yours? Not really.

"He didn't want you around, did he?" she slyly said, seeing that she was right from the expression that flickered across his face, "I think someone was a bit jealous. 'Course, I wouldn't blame him..." He furrowed his brows in confusion. Now it was her turn to smirk.

"...Really?" Cloud asked, trying to mask the extent to which his confusion ran. Her smirk turned from a smirk into a grin.

"You do remember that he's in love with her, right?" she said, unfolding her legs out in front of her as she made a tangent to the fire, "Or did you hit your head and forget everything?" His face deepened into a frown.

"Actually, that's just it. I don't even remember why I was at Tifa's house," he admitted, nervous scratching behind his ear, "It was almost like I blanked out, like my brain went into autopilot. Next thing I know, I'm covered in blood, Tifa's crying and Vincent looks like he's gonna murder me." He cringed a little at the word 'murder', eyes looking off in the distance, like he was trying to locate the memory on the horizon.

"Can I just say that's fucked up?" Yuffie replied, trying her best not to sound harsh. Luckily, he didn't interpret it that way. He was silent, but not brooding, which was a welcome relief from a few days ago. In fact, Yuffie was a little skeptical of his state of mind. Almost as if he had just let go of something.

Is it that simple? Forgive, forget, move on... that never happens with real people. But maybe something close. Ya, that's it. Just forget.

"...Can I ask you a question?" he said after she had been thinking for some time. She got a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, but ignored it, swallowing her sudden nervousness.

"Ya, what?" she replied, eyes unblinking and head tilted to the side. Another smile from his direction more amused than happy.

"What made you decide to leave Wutai?" he asked, with a steady and rehearsed tone, like it had been rolling around in his head for days.

So now you want stories? Fair enough, I guess. Everyone knows your life story, hard not to, with all that happened. Is this why you chose me to come along?

"...I guess..." she began, and bit her lip, "...A purpose. You need something more than honor to live for. I guess that's what I learned, hangin' with you guys." She looked up into the sky, as it slowly faded to indigo, giving a silent prayer to whatever was listening. She never knew why she did, but it always seemed to help. If only for the sanity of her own small mind.

"Purpose," he savored the word, and his eyes lit up, "Not so different after all. But what did you find, that was better than honor?" She continued to look up, not daring to meet his gaze.

"...Maybe..." she sighed, her face slowly coming back towards the ground, "...Understanding. We're all just people, sittin around talkin and stuff. If ya find that, ya feel like ya mean something. The kind of stuff Tifa talks about but doesn't believe is returned. Maybe love, but I doubt that. Just a... connection." She felt extremely stupid, but played off her confidence anyway. He just stared at her, a blank but clearly thinking expression on his face.

Oh gawd, I still sound like a child, don't I?

"I get it," he replied, after a near eternity in her mind, "...Maybe I'll never quite have it, but I get what you're saying. Maybe honor is just one way to get there." She shook her head.

"Naw, honor isn't something that real," she mumbled, and then cleared her throat, "Deep thinkin like that never makes anything happen. Ya gotta act. Ya gotta... wake up."

Wake up? That's real original. Where'd ya get that, a calendar?

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he blurted out, and averted his eyes, "I don't think I ever told you that."

He's sober, and saying this? Maybe I'm not so stupid after all...

She looked over to the side of their little encampment, trying to find the best way to reply. She always took compliments with too much gusto, and desperately wanted to avoid that...

But something else caught her eye. It was large, and didn't smell too friendly...

"Uh, Cloud?" she said, gaping at the sight, "What the hell is that?!"

Earlier...

Things had settled down in the Home, once the children realized that Tifa was still a force to be reckoned with. Not that they feared her... it was more a matter of authority. Some saw her as a mother, some as an older sister, and maybe even just a caretaker... but they all knew her as The Adult. And that meant she made the rules. Some, like Rinna, may break them, but eventually they knew it would catch up with them.

So, when they saw her running about, frantically packing things, they were confused. But they stayed out of her way.

"You let them go?" she muttered to herself, a flustered Vincent following her as she dashed around the house.

"Tifa, they are fine and capable people," he pleaded with her; unpacking the things she was packing when she wasn't looking, "They can handle this."

"What if Cloud has another episode?" she replied, whipping around to look at him, "And Yuffie? She can't handle him!" He guiltily hid a sweater of hers behind his back. Luckily, she didn't notice.

"Tifa, is this really about that?" he asked, leaning down so he could be at her eye level, "Is it really their safety you are concerned about?"

Why are you so concerned that I don't go after them? Don't you trust me?

"Why are you so opposed to this?" she countered, a technique she felt was transparent, but at the moment couldn't think of anything better. She expected he would stare and raise an eyebrow, an expression that meant so many things and nothing at all. But he wanted to keep surprising her.

"Is it not obvious?" he asked, gently pulling a shirt from her grasp, preventing more of her packing.

Jealousy? I thought you were better than that. Better than me, in many ways.

"Why?" she breathed out, letting her hands fall to her sides, "What are you afraid of?" He was on the brink; she knew that any more and she would be pushing him too far.

"I do not want you around him," he said quietly, not looking at her, "I know what effect he has on you. Even if you have convinced yourself otherwise. And the effect you have on him is equally unhealthy." She blinked, the only indication that any of her was alive. A person walking by would have mistaken her for a mannequin, she was so still.

But her eyes had opened. And her memories were full, whole and in brilliantly harsh color. She knew. It had taken his little admission to do so, but she felt... lighter. Like a burden had been lifted.

"I'm the reason, aren't I?" she asked, barely a whisper, "It's my fault, that Cloud..."

I created Surrender. I started the fractures. I caused all of this...

"The mental image a person has of someone is heavily influenced by their perceptions," he replied, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder, "Do not blame yourself." She shook her head.

"No, I need to quit deluding myself," she said, clear but not steady, "I was a stupid child. Selfish and cruel. I knew how everyone teased him. And I did nothing. I knew about his past. And I said nothing. I'm a horrible person." He stared hard at her.

"You need to learn to take your own advice," he said, with a controlled forcefulness, "and let go of things you cannot control. If you were not around, Tiveph would not have chosen Cloud, that is true. But it is not you who created his problems. That was him. His unrequited love for you, his perceptions of you. Not you. And that is what Tiveph saw."

"Then what connection do I have? I know there's something more than what you're telling me," she replied, a confused look on her face, "Otherwise, why would Surrender have any hold on me?" He breathed deep and averted his eyes.

"I hoped you would not ask that question..." he breathed, like he was carrying something heavy on his back, "But maybe you are ready to know. I just hope I am not wrong." She settled her weight, relaxing the tense muscles in her body.

"Surrender is Cloud, and was born from his negative emotions. But," he continued, haltingly, "...but you are what keeps it alive. It is your connection-- mentally, emotionally-- to Cloud that allows his Emotive to exist. You are a reference point, somewhere to fixate all the negative and mixed feelings. And if you die, before Cloud does, in your current state, your soul will become Surrender's final form. A twisted dream realized."

So this is what Tiveph wanted. For me to be permanently connected with Cloud, so that his dream would be realized. Consumed. I think I understand now.

"But what about Annihilation? Obsession?" she asked, head swimming. He frowned, stiffening his posture.

"Lucrecia was in the process of becoming Annihilation, and upon Sephiroth's true death was freed, I believe," he replied, continuing to avoid eye contact, "And Obsession... well..." He stopped, but not out of fear, like someone who did not know him would guess. He looked at her, as if asked her for the permission to continue. She nodded, and the unspoken exchange finished.

"If not for Tiveph's demise..." he muttered, each syllable pronounced carefully, "Then I would have become Obsession, upon death. Even though Hojo was essentially dead. But our connection has been severed, and Hojo is a free entity somewhere in Limbo." She knitted her brows, and then softened upon seeing his expression.

"How did your connection become severed?" she asked, dipping into comforting at seeing his distress, "Maybe we can find a way to sever mine." He frowned, a frown that consumed most of his face, contorting it in expression that Tifa had only seen Cloud use.

"Even after I had my revenge, and accounted for what I had done to Lucrecia," he began, his voice hushed, "I still could not let go of it. My hatred for Hojo and my love for her had not died. This further bound me to Hojo, though I did not know it. I wallowed in my own self pity and doubt. But..." He fixed his eyes carefully on her, and his mouth quirked up into a strange half smile.

"The moment I saw you, waking up from what I thought was death, and seeing you were alright..." he whispered, the same tone he had used to calm her, "I felt as if nothing else mattered. No revenge or guilt could compare to the immense relief of knowing you were alive and well. And for the first time, I saw you. It was then that I let go, for I realized that I loved you."

And I didn't notice. I thought you were afraid of another death on your conscience.

"So I haven't let Cloud go, then," she replied, eyes opened wide and looking off into space, "I have to let him go..." She looked over at her open bag, and scowled at it.

"Maybe you have," he said quietly, the odd coloration of his eyes betraying hope, "But even if you haven't, I will not leave."

"No... I wasn't concerned about him," she replied thoughtfully, and bit her lip, "I'm more concerned about Yuffie. I'm so tired of worrying about Cloud; I have for some many damn years..." Vincent's expression lightened, although it was far from cheerful.

I'm not holding onto Cloud... not even my memory of him. I don't quite know when, but I didn't feel it anymore. I'm not responsible for him; I can't keep living that way. I just hope Yuffie doesn't take that responsibility. It's his and his alone. But she won't get off so easy, not with him. My horrible jealousy from before, which held on so long... maybe it will let me go.

"...I think that it's better to fall with you," Tifa whispered, softly enough that no one else but him would hear, "...than to stand, holding him up."

Selfish, Tifa. So selfish. But, so is Vincent.

"I jumped to conclusions, I am sorry," he sheepishly said, "I should have trusted you more." She blinked.

"But Cloud still isn't right..." she murmured, and began fiddling with her hair, "...If it isn't Surrender now, what is it?" Vincent's eyes opened wide.

"If you're not connected..." he whispered, shaking his head, "no longer consumed...the Messenger... Where do you keep your copy of the Legend? I fear I may have made a grave error."

AN: Action soon! Whoo-hoo! Maybe I'll finally be able to make a point...

Theme songs: Vow Garbage and The District Sleeps Alone Tonight The Postal Service