Chapter VII :: Haine, Part I

"Hey! You're back!" The blonde receptionist smiled at me, beaming as I stepped off the elevator. "Thought somethin' had happed to ya'."

"Hey, Catherie." I smiled, despite myself—this hideous, dreary building had become much like a second home, as it had for Tifa, and although I hadn't missed it specifically, the stale, air-conditioned atmosphere was a welcome one after escaping the anger and distrust that had arisen in Barret's home after I had awoken ("You brought this on ye'self, stupid, actin' all strong—don't give me that look! Ain't my fault you gotta be stupid…"). After three days of swimming in a bed of fever and unconsciousness, yelling was not something I wanted to deal with. "Yeah, well, I got sick for a bit." I exhaled, scratching my name on the 'Visitors' list. "But I'm all better now."

"Ah huh." She shot me skeptical look; in addition to being regular, I had also gotten to know most of the staff that worked here, including the receptionist, Catherie—as I had suspected, she was only twenty-five. And she really did hate her job.

"Any change?" I asked, out of habit. I knew the answer—someone would have called if there had. But it was a necessary question, an aspect of human interaction that meant speaking the obvious and showing that I did care, even if everyone in the entire floor already knew.

Her face went sad. "No, nothing." She sighed, checked my signature—protocol. "Sometimes they show some signs of waking, y'know, false alarms. Kinda like good and bad days. But her…she never has any good days. It's strange…" She turned her eyes away, and blushed. "Sorry. It's just… I mean, it seems to me that simply visiting her isn't gonna do much. I dunno—I think maybe I've been workin' here too long."

"Yeah. I know." I glanced at the door, a thick block of steal to keep even the most insane from breaking out. Or breaking in. I wondered, not for the first time, what life was like, to consistently be trapped on the other side of that door; it made me almost wish Tifa couldn't see or hear me, that she wasn't aware of her surroundings or her condition. Knowing the way she had been—free, energetic—such a reality would be enough to crush whatever remaining will to live she had left. "I don't know what to do anymore," I said helplessly. "I thought I did. I thought I would be able to do something, but it never gets any better…" I rested my elbows in the linoleum desk.

"Hmm. I wish I could help ya', but I'm just a secretary, y'know?"

"Eh. It's alright. At this point I'll take whatever help I can get." Aeris hadn't been able to do much either.

She's too far away. I can't even reach her where she is…

"I wish you could see her, the way I knew her…" I said absently.

"How long have you known her?"

"Practically my entire life. Most of it. I grew up with her." Her face lit up again, and she smiled.

"Really? That must be nice, knowing someone for that long—even if you're just kids, they'll still know you better than anyone else." She paused, and continued when I didn't say anything. "Kinda creepy—they might even know you better than you know yourself. No matter what y'do, they'll know you inside and out… Did she know you that well?" I nodded slowly.

I stopped. I should have been also been able to say I had known Tifa just as well; I should have been able to know why this had happened—it had in fact been Aeris who had known and told me. And even now I didn't know what to do, because the Ancient had been rather vague. Why now did I assume I had the slightest clue what was going on?

I straightened. "You'd think that, wouldn't you?"

Catherie said nothing, the smile having faded some as she proceeded to zone into her thoughts. There was a familiar click as the security lock on the door released, then the brief rush of sterile air as I pushed open the heavy door and crossed the barrier between hell and sanctuary.

She had moved, gone from her usual place by the window. At first I panicked, searching through the pack of unmoving, unblinking bodies around me, yet none were—though they eerily resembled—my best friend. I went on panicking until an elderly orderly, another of the full-time nurses who recognized my face, directed me down a long marble corridor and into another wing of the hospital. Tifa's dorm.

"She's been sleeping for the past few days," the old woman whispered to me, then darted off like a grey, congenial rat.

Tifa's eyes were closed. Her arms crossed neatly over her stomach, she was a sad excuse for any living creature I'd seen—if possible, her skin had lost the rest of whatever pigment it had managed to maintain. I swallowed, and let the door close behind me. I didn't want to admit that this felt just as it had the first time Barret had brought me to this place, a dreadful, sinking of the heart and a slow evaporation of hope.

She's dying, slowly but surely she's slipped away…

I watched her chest, intently frozen with each moment of stillness after she exhaled, and given new life as she inhaled again.

…and soon no one will be able to help her.

Because of her lack of ability to eat, now that she had made that final leap into unconsciousness, a drip had been set up in my absence, attached to her wrist to keep whatever blood still flowed in her veins warm. And in my opinion it wasn't accomplishing very much—she certainly felt like a corpse. I bowed my head, chilled by the touch of her flesh; the fever had almost gone completely, and now the last traces skittered away, swept and blown by her deadness. I wanted to cry—this was my childhood friend before me, ashen and inert. The first person to have ever showed me unconditional loyalty. The only one to have stolen my heart. I tried not to think, pained by the memories, hers and mine. Frightened by the future. The future that was so unpredictable, so fickle—it could go either way now. I could fail, and she would die; or she could awaken—I would bring her back and teach her to live again.

I squeezed her hand, trying in vain to warm it. Please, Tifa, hear me. Come back! I was afraid—among other things—of breaking her hand, so seemingly small and fragile as I clenched it. Why was this happening—why was I so helpless?

Tifa…!

Silence. I felt my brain push forward, searching for something, reaching to where I couldn't see. For a curt moment, I couldn't breathe, lost and alone. The light hurt my eyes, so I couldn't open them and see where my mind had brought me.

"What are you doing here?" I froze. I knew that voice, thought I'd never hear it again…feminine, soft and smooth, like Aeris'…

My eyes shot open, my head came up.

"Tifa?!" Her eyes narrowed; she stood before me, hands on her hips.

"How did you get here?" I smiled, the grin spreading from ear to ear as I saw her face, pink with flush, her eyes alight. Her hair, released from its usual tie, flowed graceful down her back, bouncing and floating just slightly as she moved. She was alive—Tifa was alive!

I am so, so sorry for the wait! Please let me explain before you kill me—my original intention was to publish this chapter before I went on vacation two weeks ago, just after school ended. Unfortunately, things didn't go quite as I planned…at all, really, and the chapter wasn't even written at the point. I am really sorry! And now, here I am, giving you this. I'm really disappointed with the way this turned out. I thought I'd had everything planned out, y'know, story-wise and all, but I changed my mind at the last minute realizing that it wasn't going to work. The next chapter is already written and will be published within the week, I just need to organize it. Please, if you have any suggestions for me, don't hesitate to say so; I have a new idea, but I would really like feedback on whether or not it'll work—you've all been so wonderful giving me advice and encouragement! Once again, I'm so sorry for making you all wait! Raine