AN: I know this starts out a little confusing, but things will clear up soon. If anyone doesn't get the Final Fantasy 8 references, let me know.
Tifa sat with Marlene in the girl's old bedroom for hours, trying to comfort her. Cloud watched stoically from the doorway.
Barrett was on his way. So were a number of the others.
He walked out and down the stairs, unable to stay in the same room with his wife and sobbing godchild. He'd let them down enough times to know when it was no use trying to help.
Just outside the bar he found Reno and Rude leaning against the alley walls, speaking in hushed tones until they noticed his presence.
"Hey, it's the Cloud-man. How've you been, Spiky?" Reno asked, giving him the double gun with his index fingers and thumbs.
Cloud shot him a glare. Didn't anything get that dude down?
"Tell him," Rude said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Ah, tell him what?" Reno asked, his smile dropping just slightly.
"About the kid. Tell him what happened after the kid jumped."
Reno grinned, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "Oh, yeah! I almost forgot. Man, it was incredible. That Zell guy must've packed some serious juice. I'm talking your level, Cloud. I couldn't see where he went, but the whole sky clouded over and ice spikes fell from the sky. He made the thing attacking us into a shish kabob. Froze it solid and made it explode. It was great. He totally saved our asses!"
Cloud nodded, turning his gaze to the ground and then toward the setting sun.
"Sounds like Marlene picked a good one. Too bad you two losers let him die like that," he said.
Reno sighed and his whole body seemed to sag a little, the stress and wear finally showing on his face. "Ah, come on, man. Don't bust my balls like that. I told the guy not to jump. Didn't I, Rude?"
"Ain't like you can talk, Cloud," Rude chimed in, turning to walk inside, Reno following behind him.
His shoulders slumped when they were out of view. Rude was right. He couldn't talk.
Sure he'd come back when he heard the news. The planet had finally stabilized. It was possible to live there again. Still didn't change the fact that he'd left for so many years. He and Tifa had gone their separate ways after the planet was declared uninhabitable, and after the mad panic that ensued. Never mind the war.
I will never be just a memory.
Tell me what is precious to you. So I can take it away.
Sephiroth. Why did that voice never stop haunting him?
There was a time in his life when he thought he held everything precious. Tifa, their friends, the orphans living with them. He'd never known he'd find something that would dwarf everything else in comparison. Something he loved so much it destroyed him when he lost it.
Not just him. Tifa too.
He used to think that nothing could ever drive her away from him. Nothing could make it unbearable for her to see his face, wake up next to him every morning. She'd always stood at his side, no matter what.
He was wrong. So wrong.
She'd gone with the Turks. Traveled far and wide to find the greatest martial arts teachers in the galaxy and become strong again.
He'd gone with Cid and Red for a while, dying a little more each day.
Because of their travel at relativistic speeds through space only a few years had passed for him and Tifa. It had shocked him a little to see Marlene as a full grown adult in her early twenties and not the pre-teen adolescent he'd expected. She too had traveled through space, but not extensively. Denzel, the boy who was Marlene's age when they were children, had aged six years past her.
Cloud grimaced a little. He couldn't think of them as children anymore, no matter how much he wanted to.
He didn't have a motorcycle, so he started to walk toward the outskirts of Midgar. He walked across the planes toward the place where an old, rusted Buster sword was stuck in the ground. A lonely grave in the middle of nowhere.
It was past dark when he finally reached that place where he'd spent so many hours soaking in regret.
He knelt down next to the sword and touched the groves in it, where it had been damaged in the fights it had endured. A red ribbon flew from its handle for Aerith.
"I'm not strong enough to save anyone," he told them, wondering if they could hear him.
Even if they couldn't, they must already know.
Zack. Aerith.
His son...
So many times he'd been so strong, held so much power in his hands--but they all died anyway.
