When Heart Rules Over Mind

The candle burned out

Miguel sat at the large, empty kitchen table in his family home.

The ingredients and utensils from his mother's earlier food preparations were as she left them. He hadn't even considered putting them away like he said he would. He just couldn't move.

Staring into space, his eyes were lost. With his elbows propped up on the tabletop, holding his head in his hands.

Was what he had done the right choice?

He thought back on all the events leading up to this moment and shivered…

Tifa had been stalked for months.

Miguel had always kept a sharp eye out for her, and he always paid that extra attention to the details of the regulars of Solana Mar, because his open personality made him seem too obvious and therefore harmless to anyone after Tifa. They would naturally think Miguel wouldn't notice a gun in his face unless they gave subtitles before hand.

But they were wrong. More so, Dylon Mackoran was. Miguel noticed the strangely silent man become a frequent visitor of the bar, constantly keeping his eye on Tifa.

Miguel was not one to ignore men who looked like that at Tifa. He had stepped in a few times after the bar had closed, to warn off those who had took their admiration for Tifa too far.

But this guy was different. Miguel had known that from the start.

Problem was, the stranger was strong. The look of him threatened anyone away from him, without even having to lift a finger. He had the not so forgettable image of the Turks, with private discreet looks masked behind a formal appearance. Tseng came to mind when you looked carefully at Dylon Mackoran. Dormant strength expressed through carefully constructed silence.

So, how would you deal with this man in a way that wouldn't make you seem either a pest and therefore in aid of being 'dealt with', or just another hard man who wasn't worth his time of day, let alone earning the details of his plan?

The only option left?

Cloud Strife.

Choosing his moment carefully, Miguel made sure he would make his act at the correct time and place so that he would be overheard.

And so, he had genuinely voiced his unshielded (if exaggerated) opinion of Cloud Strife, knowing full well that it would get Dylon's attention, if Miguel had been right in his guess that the only reason this man was hanging around dormant was something to do with his waiting for Cloud.

Which proved to be correct, as Dylon had approached Miguel, much to his relief, straight after his outburst, and recruited him. Miguel knew that Dylon had thought him a simple recruit, who shared a mutual hatred for Strife, and emotional ties with Lockheart, making him valuable yet reliable in Cloud's downfall.

And so it had been this way. Miguel finding out just enough necessary information at vital times, to know a brief picture of 'when and how' – the two main ideas in Dylon's schedule for Strife.

However, once involved, Miguel came to realise Dylon's plans did not only revolve around Cloud, oh no.

They involved Tifa.

This made Miguel in the one position he had vowed never to be on – a traitor to Tifa. Thinking fast on his feet, Miguel played the naive card with Dylon, opting to receive just that little bit more explanation into the information Dylon gave him, seemingly one sided against Cloud. Though Miguel knew now it involved Tifa.

So the time was now. Today. Offering to have Tifa at his home to keep her 'safe' as Dylon had put it, Miguel lied through his teeth to persuade Dylon it would be a good, safe idea to hold Tifa at his own home while Cloud was dealt with.

Miguel had bought Tifa that vital time she needed to get away.

Thinking himself to be smart at first, Miguel had actually messed up, making himself an ally with the man behind Tifa's apparent downfall. But he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to put things right, even if it involved lying to his family and potentially putting them at risk.

He rubbed his tired eyes roughly with his knuckles and looked around him.

"What the hell happened…?" He asked himself. "How could this have gone all wrong?" He demanded, slamming his fist down on the table, just at the moment a soft knock at the door could be heard.

Miguel's head shot up looking through the open arched doorway of the kitchen that led to the entrance hall, and the door.

"Tifa…"

Clambering to his feet he rushed to the door and unlatched it, taking a deep breath before opening it, smiling as to make everything seem according to plan, to whoever was keeping watch on the house – which Miguel didn't doubt for a second would be there.

"Hey, now what's all this?" Tifa asked with a smile nudging Miguel out of the way playfully as she entered his home. Miguel smiled back until the door was shut safely, then his face instantly fell.

"I mean, Sofia rings up earlier, in a uh, well, a weird manner let's say. It was as if she had just seen a ghost or something, judging by how shook up she sounded". She said, now entering the kitchen where she smiled in amazement as she always did at how inviting such a large traditional kitchen was. Miguel followed her in, his hands thrust in his front jean pockets nervously.

"Well, what's been going on here? Your mother had been to a lot of trouble cooking again huh?" She said with a giggle, sneaking a taste of the half prepared sauce that lay in a bowl on the table, dipping her finger in and licking it.

"Mmmm, you know, your mother is so good at this! Makes me wonder how you turned out so bad – " She stopped, her words caught in her throat as she finally looked directly at Miguel. His eyes locked on hers with a frightened look she had never seen in them before. Her stomach began to tie itself in knots as a thousand thoughts swam through her head.

"Miguel? What is it, what's happened? Is it Sofy? Tell me, is Sofia ok? Is your mother ok, dammit Miguel, are you all right? Something's wrong here, now what is it?" She blurted out, walking up to him quickly, taking hold of his forearms and pulling his hands free out of his pockets to hold them, her eyes pleading with his to speak.

"Miguel!" She asked, almost shouting now, desperate for him to end her fears as she remained in doubt.

"It's over."

Tifa only had to look at him for her heart to fall. The dejected look on his face was stinging her every second she looked at it. She couldn't make it to meeting his eyes with her own, as his lay exhausted, downcast. His voice was tired and husky, no doubt because of his lack of energy, but looking deeper, his voice was broken because of emotion. What was he going through? This was the happiest man alive in Costa, never a dull moment, and now? She had never seen anyone this desperately heartbroken since…

Since she had last taken a look at herself that day she had last woken up after the dream where she lost Cloud.

A sinking feeling fell through her and cleared the doubt in her. She could understand what he was going through. She knew the feeling well. All she had to know now was why?

Miguel remained silent before he took a shaky breath and lifted his gaze. His eyes were so raw in their honesty that the colour in them seemed drained in comparison to the white.

"I have been…no. Wait. I learned…" He sighed "No, that's not how it's supposed to sound either…" It scared Tifa how much energy he seemed to lose just by sighing, she held his hands with a firmer grip as if this would steady him. It seemingly worked.

"Tifa." He began, his voice sounding stronger now as his eyes immediately locked on hers. "There isn't enough time to explain. All I can say to you is run. Run as fast as you can, for as long as you can when I give you the signal, and only then."

Tifa would have asked the immediate question of 'why?' but the look in his gaze stopped her from even doubting him. He meant this action, and the surprise of it made it that bit more believable. It was so unlike Miguel to come out with this, that Tifa was instantly engaged.

He soon continued, silently thankful his friend had understood his desperation.

"In a moment, we are going to walk over to the kitchen sink window, you will pick up that sauce bowl over there, take it over and act normal, as if you are settling to cook, like you would have originally come round to do. We will smile and we will laugh."

It was an order.

With that, Miguel shocked Tifa by smiling, as if some unseen bar had been pulled up over his face, wiping away any slight trace of the expression he had just been wearing. Tifa blinked and stared as if she had completely imagined what they had just been saying.

"Now come on Tifa!" He beamed with a smile moving over to the kitchen window, pushing it open, the one that faced the front of the house – and therefore the watcher Dylon had positioned to observe the house would see and almost hear. Miguel spoke loudly to Tifa, about usual things, even giving an insight into his wit so that normal behaviour could be overheard through that gap of air given by the open pane of glass.

Then he stopped, looking over to her with his smile as if naturally waiting for her. Tifa just stared, blinking as if this dream would somehow falter any second. It didn't. And she was letting him down; she could see it in his gaze, just beginning to falter…

"All right already!" She said just as audibly, with a smile desperate to pick up the bowl he had ordered her to. Relief instantly washed over Miguel and the pair smiled. And they laughed.

Until Miguel took firm hold of her wrist, unseen from out of the window. "Ok, well let's get that mess in the oven and have a decent drink for a change. Don't worry, I won't give it enough time to burn, I know how slack you are Tifa." He smirked before leading her away from the window.

And straight out of the room.

Down the hall.

Towards the open planned back hallway.

And finally, the large glass doors leading out to the back garden with its path leading it's winding way back down into the Costan hills, which Tifa knew would take her the long route back to town.

Miguel had made sure to walk her that way countless times before.

Tifa's stomach fell sick.

He knew this was going to happen, whatever it was. And had known for a long time.

As instant as it had appeared, Miguel's smile was wiped off, and he let go of her to pull open the sliding glass doors. Turning to her he gently reached his hand out. This time his eyes were visibly pained, and pleaded for her permission to allow him to accept her trust if she would give it.

She nodded with an innocent glance and walked up to him, her eyes looking up at his as if to answer him, her hand slipping over his in a caring way. Yet she didn't shield her fear.

Miguel knew she was scared of all this, because of the extent of the transformation in him. But he firmly gripped her hand as she gave it to him and gave a trace of a genuine smile. Though he couldn't make it. Tifa respected him trying and smiled reassuringly to him.

Taking that as his signal he led her out into the open garden on the rocky natural hilltop of rural Costa. The main region could not be seen from here, but traditional houses and land could be seen all around, and below. Miguel led Tifa out onto the grass of the long floral, well looked after garden, before turning to rapidly to slide the glass doors shut.

Immediately he turned back and almost ran up to her, pulling her over to the side of the garden, along a side path the led slightly around the leafy pathway that would take Tifa downwards and back through the rest of the neighbourhood of houses and then into town.

He stopped, turned to face her, holding her precious hands in his.

"Listen to me now Tifa, I need you to understand, and quickly because I'm never gonna get the chance to say this again."

The acceptance seemed so final Tifa was instantly aware that this action of Miguel's now had a name.

Sacrifice.

"No Miguel – " She began, shaking her head desperately.

"Listen to me God dammit!" He shot back, shaking her. "Tifa, you have always been like family to me, and Sofy. I'm asking you now to do what I'm going to tell you to, and do it fast. Don't let me down or all of this, everything I've done will be worthless."

Tifa just stared in nervous silence, her fingers constantly moving to hold his hands more, as if she was losing grip and slipping off.

"Know this – don't blame me. Whatever happens, whatever they say, I didn't know. I didn't. I do not hate Cloud. I respect him for earning your love and care throughout the years. And I owe him as much gratitude for being able to live another day on this earth with my family, as I do to you and the rest of AVALANCHE"

Tifa hit the point where she knew this was a last speech. Last confession.

Last words.

"He will twist it, whatever I say, if he catches you. If they do, believe the fact that I was helping you. I didn't go on their side to go against you; I did it to save you. Now if you get taken on a boat, start preparing. Think about Junon, and what happened there, then get ready to be there, and when you get to history repeating itself, find Cloud –"

The long awaited sound of the front doors bursting open sounded. Miguel's eyes instantly spread into panic. He gripped Tifa pulling her close to him, looking into her eyes.

"Don't leave me Tifa. For God sakes don't abandon me to a memory. I was honest always." With that, the sound of the house being spread with strangers was heard, the house being broken from inside. Tifa listened to this as Miguel pulled her into a desperate embrace. Just as she held on not wanting to let go, he pushed her violently away.

"Now run! Don't you dare look back or I'll have done this for nothing. Run!" He screamed, at her, pushing her away and out of sight from the glass doors at the back of the house, around the small corner of leaves.

Tifa now had tears leaking from her eyes; she didn't know what to do. But her fear made her legs jolt into action and she darted down the steep path Miguel had sent her down. The voices behind her made her tears pour down. They were of anger, of demanding 'where is she? Where is she!'

Then a shot.

Tifa jolted to a stop, air rushing into her lungs in a heartbroken gasp.

The sound of his body slumping to the ground made her whole spirit cry, and she almost fell to the ground with him. Against his words, she found herself running back, upwards along the path, slipping once or twice on the sandy surface, losing her footing as the rest of the world went on mute, only the sound of her high pitched breathing echoed in her ears, her cries falling in breaths in, and out.

Then she came upon the scene.

She couldn't move any further.

Miguel was on his knees, his hands grappling pathetically at his stomach. Blood all over his hands. His head hung low, looking down at himself with defeat, pain in his eyes as he realised his fate. Tifa gasped and screamed, running to him, ignoring the men filtering over the scene.

And then man standing over her friend with the gun in his hand, ready to shoot again.

"Miguel!"

His head lolled upwards, his gaze blurry, but he still made out the form of his angel coming to him, felt her arms around him as she rocked him lovingly.

He smiled through his pain and rested against her.

"Tifa…I…I told you to run…" He whispered, the fact now dawning on him that she was putting herself at risk, and literally signing her death warrant by returning to him. But he could tell she didn't care.

All along, of all the things he thought up in his plan, he had forgotten the one obvious flaw.

She was human.

She wouldn't, couldn't leave a friend to die, not for her. She would rather join him, and Miguel knew that now. Painfully, he lifted his arms as much as his falling energy would allow and held her.

By now, Tifa's tears were falling freely down her cheeks as she cried for her friend's fading life, as she felt it slipping in her grasp. She rested her cheek on his hair and rocked him back and forth, her tears running down onto him. She closed her eyes and shushed him.

"Shh, it's ok, it's ok. Everything will be all right Miguel. Honestly, I'm safe. I am. I won't leave you to be a memory, I'll never let that happen do you here me?" She cried, desperately willing him to understand her. He closed his eyes and felt the sting in them, and the pain from his wound sickening him, blood seeping from himself onto her.

"How could I leave you huh? You tell me that. You are stupid Miguel. I always knew that, your antics everyday. Maybe now you'll believe me. You're so damn stupid!" She said, almost shouting at him. She hated him for doing this to himself over her. She pulled her head away and held his face to be able to look into his eyes.

"I'm not worth this…" she whispered. He looked back at her, reaching his bloodstained hand up to cup her cheek. With his last efforts, he spent them comforting her. Even now, in his last moments in life he couldn't bare the sight of her crying. Not over him.

After watching months of her crying over Cloud, he felt he didn't deserve her tears. He was nothing like Cloud. But feeling her desperately holding him, he knew he was slipping. He smiled.

Tifa smiled back almost laughing with relief that he had the strength to smile. This was the Miguel she knew.

He looked at her and carefully, and with the back of his hand, not to stain her beautiful face with his blood, he wiped her tears away. He knew now, finally that all along he had been as much of a friend to her as Cloud or anyone had been. Always putting himself in the role of second best, he had never stopped to even contemplate the fact that this woman had a heart big enough to share everyone inside.

Still he was smiling.

Even when two pairs of strong hands grabbed Tifa's upper arms and ripped her from him. She thrashed, and screamed, but there were too many, they were too strong, already bruising her arms by their grip.

Yet Miguel's warm eyes were looking at her as if to tell her everything was going to be all right, that he would always be with her. She saw that through his smile, even though she was crying openly now.

"I don't want to leave you Miguel! Get off me! Leave me alone…why can't you just leave us alone…?" She cried, resigned with her head low as she closed her eyes tight with sorrow, her tears falling on the bloodstained grass of the once welcoming family home.

She knew this was the end. The beginning of the end for her, but that wasn't what mattered.

She lifted her head to look at her falling friend, willing herself to run to him, and hold him. Yet the men holding her wouldn't allow it. And if she pushed it too far, Miguel would be the one to pay for it.

Which he did.

"No! Stop!" Tifa cried out as the gunman standing before Miguel violently kicked him in his ribs, bruising the target of his wound. Miguel screamed out in pain and hunched over, his flat palms pressed on the grass as he tried to support his weight.

Tifa was thrashing more than ever, desperate to kill the man doing this with her bare hands there and then.

But she could only watch as the attacker simply stood calmly watching Miguel struggle, before seemingly out of nowhere, kicking him again in the same vulnerable injured area.

Miguel slumped to the ground with a cry, curling his body in agony as he screwed up his eyes, coughing up blood onto the grass. His trembling hands grappled at his wound.

The man prepared to strike again.

Tifa's eyes went wide and she screamed at the top of her lungs,

"Stop!"

The man paused, relaxed and calmly turned to look over at her. Ignoring Miguel as he squirmed below him.

Tifa tore her glance unwillingly from her friend, to look with anger upon this stranger. She could instantly notice the mako in his cold stare. His suit reminded her sorely of the Turks, and Reno when he had so mercilessly killed her friends back in Midgar without real purpose or cause.

Her eyes couldn't fail to notice the scar running across the strangers face, roughly diagonal from the edge of his forehed down past the corner of his eye and over his cheekbone. It unnerved her, reminding her of her own scar, and the old enemy that had caused it. If this is what she was up against, it would have frightened her before. But this time, she didn't care.

She felt sick and angry. She would kill him here and now if the grip on her faltered just for a second.

"What is it my dear?" He said, as if speaking fatherly to a daughter.

This flamed revenge in her eyes.

"You leave him out of this. Whatever this sick game of yours is, just get on with it and take me wherever you're planning. But I swear I'll fucking haunt you if you don't leave him you heartless bastard." She spat, her voice direct, raw with clearly spoken words.

Dylon laughed at her.

"Excuse me? Well I must say as threats go Ms. Lockheart, that was the weakest childlike version I have ever heard. And you claim to have been in the legendary AVALANCHE? It must have been a bigger joke than people thought."

Tifa continued to glare at him.

She meant full well she would come back for him somehow. And if she didn't, being who she was, there were plenty more people who would avenge her. She was threatening much more than revenge. She was threatening butchery. Barrett Wallace alone would rip this man to pieces.

And she knew this guy knew exactly what she meant.

His fake sneer instantly faded. And Tifa knew this moment was where things would start to happen.

Dylon turned his glance to Miguel and he nudged his lifeless body with his foot, to roll him on his back facing up on the grass.

He was still.

Tifa gasped and felt the air choke her. The tears returned in a rush and her vision became blurred with a thick layer of tears.

"No…" she whispered.

Dylon's expression remained hard. He looked to his armed men around him, then directly to the man holding Tifa's right arm.

"He's gone. Take her to the docks. And be quick. This body is starting to rot already. The stench will attract neighbours soon enough. They can clean it up."

Tifa felt like she would throw up. Her body jerked and she hunched over in panicking breaths. He couldn't be dead…he was Miguel…he didn't just…give up.

But he had. Lying there alone, he had joined his Ella. Leaving Tifa and the world behind.

And worst of all, his little sister didn't know she had lost her big brother. But she soon would...she soon would.

"But sir, won't leaving him here attract people's attention? I thought this was a discreet set up until the –"

"Don't doubt my methods." Dylon shot back, instantly as if Tseng himself was commanding him with his presence. "The whole point is to raise public awareness of the seriousness of my plight. I want people to know of my reputation. This will place Costa into panic, no doubt attract all those worthless AVALNCHE members here which will get them out of the way, and allow for my final plan to follow through." The power of this slight raise in his voice made all the men silence. No sound could be heard apart from Tifa's painful sobs.

Dylon frowned at the sight of her and turned to leave.

"Get her out of my sight."

Author's Notes:

Yes. Before you say it, I am heartless. But I'm sorry! Don't mean to be but this fic had to have my little guy go. Trust me, when you read on you'll understand. Trust me...please?

I hope this chapter makes up for the short one last time. I told you things would change. This one was a straight run through of the one scene I've been dreading to write. I kept stopping and coming back to it. I didn't want to mess it up, but I'm happy with it. If you can even say that about it. Miguel! Oh my God I'm a heartless person aren't I? My poor little guy! cries Well I hope you all thought this was a chapter worth reading, because the rest of the fic will start to go down a new path now and eventually start getting towards the – yes that point we set out to reach people – the ending. It's a way off yet, but this fic is two thirds the way through now. I'm aiming to get it finished if it kills me. Which it probably will because it still returns to this kind of dark theme a couple of times after this. So if you guys don't mind coming along for the ride still, I will be eternally grateful.

After all this fic is for you guys! Help me write it some more by reviewing. I'm constantly nervous now and need reassurance I'm doing this right. I feel like we're all equal partners in this thing, me the writer and you guys the readers. So tell me off if I need it, but please give me some encouragement!

Xx Jessie xX