Author's note(s):
Hello readers! Thank you for dropping by for this to-be-multi-chapter journey (yes, we are here for the long haul, with plenty and plenty of fluff!). Chapter one's title will be the story's title until my brain has found something fitting. These next nine months begin almost 2 years after Advent Children.
Just three little headnotes to go in with:
1. Given Cloud and Tifa's plights around mako-exposure, Jenova and all else in between, this is not going to be a, per say... 'normal' pregnancy.
2. Said pregnancy will be accounted from Denzel's perspective. Don't you worry, I promise you plenty of Cloti (my Denzel is an eavesdropper).
3. Denzel is nine. Nine-year-olds exaggerate. How much... well that's up to your interpretation.
I.
There's a baby in Tifa's tummy!
It was the end of an exceptionally busy week when Tifa called her children to the bar.
Her husband looked as exhausted as she. Like a Tonberry he hunched and hovered around her, blonde spikes disheveled, dark bags beneath his eyes. But their mako glow seemed to twinkle in the light and Denzel instantly knew that something was up. Something good.
He could almost hear Marlene's thoughts beside him, loud amid servings of secret smiles and grilled chicken. But their guardians gave nothing away, and when they joined them in the booth curiosity yielded to blissful chatter.
It began a typical week's end, really.
The kids shared their ventures at school with Tifa's encouragement and the occasional hum from Cloud.
Their Wutaian dinner turned out to have been under-raved so seconds were a must – even for the barkeep, who'd brooked a frightening come-and-go sickness the last six weeks. On top of a lingering exhaustion and mutually odd appetite of a Behemoth (which, with the family's record of mortality-scares, had the kids more than a little worried).
She even matched Cloud on thirds – which prompted Denzel to fuel his second stomach before dessert in a declaration of manliness. Something he was sure to regret having spurned her warning for the cake that followed... Bellies pleased (or at least intact), they ended up on the couch in a tangle; Marlene cuddled at Cloud's side and Denzel wrapped in Tifa's arms, too full and – don't you dare tell – joyously content to protest.
Marlene chatted away for several more minutes before a companionable silence fell upon the family. And slowly, Denz found himself succumbing to slumber, lulled by Tifa's fingers roaming his hair.
It wasn't til her tentative statement that the kids recalled their intrigue from earlier.
"So, Cloud and I were wondering… how would you two feel about a new addition to the family?"
"New addition?"
"Huh?"
"As in," Marlene sprang up like a Shock Trooper, "a puppy?!"
She caught Cloud by such surprise that Tifa and Denzel were jerked in his embrace. But the young boy determinedly kept his cool as the former's fingers paused mid-caress.
"No, not a pet..." he felt her turn to Cloud, "More like..."
"...A brother or sister."
Denz reflexively shot up too, unashamed at his own eyes bulging like frogmouths. As always, though, Marlene was first to recover. And then the bombardment of questions began.
"You mean–?! You found–?! How?!"
"Are they a boy or girl?"
"How old are they?"
"Do we know them?"
"When can we meet them–?"
"Can we meet them now–?"
"–Can we bring them home–?"
"–Can we–?"
"–What happened to their parents?"
Tifa blinked in a daze, hand hovering absently at Denz's shoulder. "Found…?" she repeated slowly, and a few moments passed before her husband began to chuckle.
"I think we're gonna need to clarify, Teef."
Merlot met mako, and the couple exchanged a glance that morphed into a smirk on Cloud's part.
"Suppose we could start with the second question?"
Tifa grinned. "Yeah. The first's a bit... soon..."
Cheeks reddening, she bit her lip and turned back to the expectant faces in front of them.
"This one's... a little different. We don't know whether they're a boy or girl, and their age hasn't really begun yet... Or, at least... it'll restart when we meet them."
Cloud's smirk broadened at the silence. "You definitely don't know them. No one does – yet... Though," he gave his other half a squeeze, "Tifa's the closest."
"It'll be a while before they're ready to meet everyone, you see..."
"Six and a half months."
"Well, give or take a few days."
"As for where they are... they're actually here."
"As in... here with us..."
"And as for the parents..." Cloud's expression could now best be described as a beam. His free hand drifted to his wife's stomach, stroked it emphatically, "Tifa's just mentioned them."
Denzel blinked at the couple, eyes widening to the saucer size of Marlene's. His mouth fell open but no words came out.
He blinked again.
He opened his mouth again.
He closed it again.
Then he blinked some more.
Just as his brain began to formulate a response, Marlene's sudden gasp sent his thoughts back into shambles. This time rather than jumping up beside Cloud, she all but lunged across the man – straight for Tifa in a hug that could rival the speed and strength of Soldier.
"You mean– you–... you're–..." Denzel resumed his blinking. "There's–... there's–"
"–a baby in your tummy!" Marlene finished.
Tifa took a deep breath, from nervousness or relief as her oxygen supply was freed again. "Yup..." she chuckled shyly, beaming down. "There's a baby in here..."
A baby...
The words ricocheted in Denzel's skull.
A baby... Inside her tummy...
A... baby…
"But… it's so small…" Marlene's hand trailed searchingly where Cloud's had been. "Are…" Her brow gave a squiggle. "Are you sure it's not just dessert…?"
Tifa beamed lovingly. "Oh, we're very sure…" Her lips grazed her cinnamon hair, fingers curling over her knuckles. "He or she's just the size of a little lime right now… Right about…" she guided their touch downward, "here… Most moms don't start showing for another few weeks, so I'm actually a bit early."
"Really?"
"Mm-hmm. It takes nine months for a baby to grow, and we're just in number three."
Three months?! Denzel tilted his head, squinting to see the evidence.
He hadn't felt a bump in Tifa's stomach. Not in their snuggle just before!
But she was wearing a looser and lengthier shirt... as she had been for about the last fortnight with–
Ohhhh.
"They'll be a real bump in a few months," said Cloud, and after a few seconds of finger-math Marlene began to giggle.
"I can't imagine Tifa with a big tummy."
"Neither can I," he grinned, gaze locking with the owner of said name as she blushed. "Though I'm sure it would suit her."
Tifa turned a brighter red. But her eyes softened with that special look reserved ever and only for Cloud.
"Mmm-hmm!" their daughter beamed. Then her cocoa eyes mellowed. "So this is why you've been so sick? And so tired, and–… hungry?"
Tifa could scarcely do more than nod before she exclaimed, "You've been eating for two!"
"I have…" the woman grinned, stroking her cake-filled abdomen. Which – Denz swallowed a gasp of his own – did have the slightest of curves!
Like bloating that would linger after a very big meal… (Which, granted, they had just had – triple, plus dessert…)
But Tifa was a martial artist – a Monk. She worked out a lot!
Her tummy was always flat. Flat and incredibly toned and–
"Would you like to see?"
The boy flinched at Cloud's sudden appearance behind him – or return, realizing the cushions empty next to Marlene. Reclaiming them, their father-figure presented a photo.
"It's a little blurry, but…" Tifa kissed her cinnamon pillow, and the kids bumped shoulders as they peered at the fuzzy print.
"They're a mover," said Cloud. Denzel sensed his sea-hued orbs gleam as they watched him.
Marlene giggled while the boy gaped.
"Whoa…" The head was so big!
"Is that a leg?"
"Yup."
"And an arm?"
"Mh-hmm."
"And you see that little blob right here?"
"Yeah!"
"That's a hand. Gave us a wave."
"Wow. It's so tiny!" Chocolate met wine, awed and eager, "Can you feel it?"
Tifa shook her head. "They're too little at the moment. It'll be a couple of months before the kicks are strong enough."
Her thumb stroked her lower tummy as she spoke. Denz swallowed. There's really a baby in there…
"Awww…"
It looked…
"...so cute!"
…like an alien…
"So… six and a half months…" Marlene's musings filled his ear. "He or she will be born in… winter, right?"
"That's right," replied Tifa.
"Awww. That's ages away…"
"Well, they've got lots of growing to do," Cloud grinned.
"So Tifa will have a super big tummy?"
The couple laughed, the young barkeep with a little nervousness. "And by that time…" her husband said conspiratorially, "we'll be the ones looking after her."
Determination filled the girl's beam. "We'll have to learn how to cook! And make drinks and do budgets and– oh!"
She jerked up suddenly, knocking Tifa's chin.
"But we never answered your question! Did we, Denz?"
"Uh…?"
"About the new addition! We'd love to have a baby brother or sister! This is so, so awesome! Right, Denzel?"
Denzel felt his face grow hot as three pairs of curious eyes were suddenly on him. Brain re-solidifying at last, he drew his gaze from Tifa's middle.
"Y– yeah. Uh… of course…" he heard himself mumble.
Marlene shot him a toothy grin, and with hopeful ocean and wine beseeching him, the boy snapped out of his stupor.
Slowly, a smile began to overtake him, and the bar-light twinkled in his eye as he leaned back in Tifa's embrace.
"I think I'd like having a little brother…"
Her beam warmed the top of his head.
The weeks that followed seemed as slow as they were busy. Even with the baby's arrival so far away, Denzel learnt that there was a lot to deal with.
Tifa was forced to (further) cut her work – on Cloud's insistence when not the bouts of "all-day sickness" as the latter had dubbed it. Even though it was meant to "just remain a first trimester" thing, whatever that meant.
Cloud was, in non-discreet Cloud-fashion, declining deliveries to help at the bar against her insistence – and general wisdom, according to the regulars that would tempt the Bahamut threatening to burst his skin every time they so much as glanced at Tifa. Denzel didn't know what that meant either. If anyone, Cloud was the "moody" one.
Except when it came to his wife's wardrobe. Which was seeing a rapid(er) increase in looser and lengthier tops.
"Do you think it's too early?"
"Hm?"
She stood in front of their mirror, adjusting her tunic. Tugging it. Turning angles. Re-turning angles. Tugging some more.
As she'd been doing for the past twelve minutes – the kids coming up to tell her their surprise toast was cold (which was totally Marlene's fault) and bacon burnt (which… may have been Denzel's) and that the eggs hadn't exactly cooperated when they cracked (but they'd gotten rid of most of the shells) and…
The boy forgot the rest of the message.
There's a baby in there. His mind went fuzzy again.
He gazed at the (if-one-was-observant) knap of proof. A baby… A growing baby…
"I dunno…" Cloud mused over Tifa's shoulder, his fingers crawling round and obscuring the boy's view. "But you're bigger…" they hugged her tummy. Fondled it lovingly, "Definitely bigger…"
"Mmm," she leaned into his touch, smiling at their reflections. "Enough to really notice?"
"Well I guess it…"
He cocked his head thoughtfully.
"Naaah… still looks like bloat."
Her face fell into a frown. And with a disheartened sigh she was out the door, leaving him blinking like a Cuahl under Confu.
"Dummy," Marlene shook her head disapprovingly.
"Urgh! Nothing fits!" began the sequel a fortnight later – shirts and skirts hitting the bed with loud flops – "Nothing fits, Cloud!"
Denzel ducked further behind Marlene, who ducked further behind the doorframe.
"They're here in ten minutes and I haven't done the count! And the tables are a mess and there's dishes everywhere and nothing fits anymore!"
Tifa spun round, hugging her (one-no-longer-need-be-observant) bump. Denz couldn't decide which was more disconcerting: that she looked so frustrated or about to cry. (Or that her bump was a bump and the tables were tidy, and the dishes were stacked and her clothes fit perfectly fine.)
Tifa never got flustered over her looks.
Tifa never complained about anything.
And Tifa never got angry. Never ever in Denzel's world did she get angry.
Except that time she'd lectured Cloud through an anomalous burst of sobs after the Remnant Crisis. Which had dissolved into a (not-so-anomalous) session of moans and thumps, and strange noises from both of them that neither wall nor pillow could quench.
With a cautious swallow, the man guided her arms apart – gently turning her so as to keep the kids undercover.
Along with his severely lacking strategy. Say something! Marlene mouthed.
"It's… well, it's getting a little noticeable…" He trailed off at her fervent headshake, "…but…"
She crossed her forearms in an 'x', then drew an arc in front of her tummy.
"…it's extra… showy… Not showing. I mean– starting to show. But you look fine– good– beautiful, in fact, and–…"
The girl face-palmed as Denz suppressed a snigger, and Tifa was out of her husband's arms in a frenzy.
"Tifa, I didn't mean–" The trio flinched as she yanked the dresser open. "Teef, wait–"
"Don't, Cloud." Flop. "Just… don't."
"I only meant– you're… look, you're–"
"Extra showy." Flop. Flop. "I know."
"Huh? No, I–"
"Forget it."
Wham!
"Teef, really, you look great–"
"I said forget it, Cloud."
Denz yanked his sister to cover just in time as the blur of wardrobe sped past them.
Taking up the kids' specific attentions, meanwhile:
Marlene's Operation: Remove-All-Sharp-and-Pointy-Objects-in-the-House ("Swords are dangerous, Cloud. What if there's an accident and the baby gets hurt?"); Cloud sorting them for school ("Tifa gives us real food." "Tifa doesn't do it like that." "Tifa does a fishtail plait on–" "A what–?" "Shh, you'll wake her!"); and the swordster's thankfully seldom – yet too-frequent-of-late – cooking ("Clooouuud…" "Huh?" "That's not–" "How Tifa does it, I know!").
Not to mention their new favorite pastime: bar-watching. A drama involving a roomful of ogling male eyes, one death-glaring swordsman and one exhausted yet glowing barmaid.
"Bahamut's rising…" Marlene hummed, tone ostending the verb.
Denz smirked through his mouthful of pudding. "Maawr'ikeBahamut ZERO. HeezgonnaTeraflare the old perv."
"Denzel! That's rude!"
"Zo? He dezervzitt."
"Yeah but, he's a regular."
"So?"
"If Cloud's mean to the regulars they won't come back, and Tifa can't buy us ice-cream anymore."
"What? That's not true."
"Is so! Daddy said regulars pay the bills, and no bills means no ice-cream."
Denz scoffed toward to their mother-figure serving up a tray of cocktails. A smile for her happy customers; a turn to her blonde-spiked porcupine.
"Well… thadwon'beabroblem now."
"Hm?"
"Alright, you." Hands on Cloud's chest, Tifa pretended not to hear their snickering children. "Out."
"Me? What did I do?"
"You're scaring off my customers."
Despite the odd bouts of entertainments and frenzies, Denzel did notice that – between the hordes of duties the couple were juggling – neither was spending as much time with him as they used to. And the boy was becoming aware of a little monster purring in his own chest. One that was green.
Fenrir received similar neglect – the upgrade Cloud had promised they'd do together now shunned for extra Teraglaring at the bar. Sparring with Tifa was at a halt for obvious reasons, and sword-training was still a firm "no".
"They're too big for you to even lift, Denz."
(How Marlene had managed to get Tsurugi in the upstairs closet remained a mystery to everyone.)
Sometimes Denzel felt he was spending more time with his inanimate parents on his bedtable. A photo that had once brought pride and happy memories now evoking a sorrowful guilt as he yearned for his guardians.
But worst was getting used to Tifa being sick. And the young boy was beginning to suspect that she was abnormally sick even for her condition.
Tifa never got sick. Not in Denzel's world, not ever.
Except that time they'd mistaken stomach flu for a Geostigma attack and she'd been his furnace for the night.
Tifa wasn't supposed to get sick. She was the one who always took care of everyone else – of him. The one to hold him, stroke his hair, kiss him, tell him everything would be okay.
Her being sick was… well, it wasn't right. And in Denzel's (far from perfect) world, that meant everything was not okay.
One particular night – a particularly bad night for Tifa, as his ears told him between flurries of sleep – the boy was woken by a thud from her and Cloud's bedroom. A rush of footfalls followed and he found the bathroom occupied instead; door ajar, their muffled voices escaping with the light.
"I hope I didn't– didn't wake D– Denzel again–"
Tifa never finished her sentence, a severe bout of sickness cutting her off.
"He'll be fine…" Cloud shushed her gently. "Besides, it'd be my fault this time…"
There was silence, spare for their breathing. Then with a rugged moan Tifa hurled again. Expelling – Denzel thought, feeling nauseous himself – the spud and leek soup from yesterday.
(He'd heard her dinner go around midnight. And lunch and breakfast together some time after that.)
A long minute of dry-heaves followed. A flush, a rinse. A shuffle. Deeming it safe, the boy risked a peep through the doorframe.
Tifa was curled up in Cloud's lap, legs over thighs, the latter bare-chested while her smaller frame drowned in his nightshirt. It concealed the little bump that had made itself known, white fabric matching the sickly pallor on her cheeks.
It was odd, Denzel thought; her tummy was swelling while the rest of her seemed to be undergoing… the opposite. In truth, she looked… skinny… As if she'd been losing weight.
"Mmmmh…" she hummed groggily, thumb trailing over a fresh bruise on Cloud's jaw. "Will I need to worry about the girls in Junon? It's hard enough without the bad-boy image, you know."
"I was worried about you," he teased back. "And no. Might have to wear a 'married with kids sign' next time though."
"Next time?"
Cloud's expression hardened, tone suddenly serious, "I'm not going."
"You cancelled?" Tifa gazed up sluggishly. "Cloud, we– you can't. Your clients… they need you."
He shook his head, drawing her chin up in the most tender way. "Not if you need me more."
"Cloud…"
Amidst the love and warmth in her eyes, there was a deep, almost desperate hint of… fear?
"We can't afford to do this… Cloud, the kids…"
"I know." Cloud brushed a sweaty lock from her cheek. "Reeve came back about the grant today. They know it's… because of me… Jenova… He said he's sure they'll take that into account."
Tifa shook her head at snail's pace. Though the gesture was no less resolute as she disputed with a mumble, "But Denzel… with a grant there's no chance they'll… no chance we'll–…"
But her words were cut short once more as she shot out of his embrace and lunged for the toilet.
SPLLLTTKKK!
A grant...? Denz swallowed the flutter in his own gut.
…Like…
…as in…
…money…?
"…Uuuuhhggkhh!"
SPPLLLTTTGGGGKKK!
He'd heard his father use that word for his work at Shinra… For projects he and his friends couldn't afford!
With a rush of dread Denz recalled Marlene's statement about bills.
Were Tifa and Cloud in financial trouble because of him? Because Cloud had brought him home and he'd had Geostigma…?
Was he somehow standing in the way of them getting help…?
One hand securing Tifa's hair while the other rubbed soothing circles on her back, Cloud waited with an expression that matched the boy's distraught.
Cautiously, she began to straighten and he offered a cup of water from the basin above. But she shook her head feverishly, hugging her little bump, as she gripped the bowl tight in preparation for round four.
Cloud shattered at the sight. Brow knit, eyes mournful, he retrieved the rogue locks that had escaped his clutches.
He hated this, helplessly watching her suffer.
Denzel knew. And so did Tifa.
When she calmed at last, her hand reached back to take his, pulling it round and placing it on her tummy. She held it there while she rinsed, completed the routine, then turned to give him a weary smile before nestling into his chest again.
"Tifa..." Cloud murmured as he wrapped her up carefully. His fingers caressed the source of her sickness while hers curled over his breast.
"I'm sorry," he kissed her temple, then her cheek, hand taut on her stomach.
"Gods, Teef," he hugged her closer. "I'm sorry. "I'm so sorry."
Tifa shook her head again, firmly this time, and reached up to wipe a – Denz stifled a gasp – tear from his cheek!
"Don't ever be," she murmured as another glazed her thumb. She gripped his fingers, gave them a heartfelt squeeze, "He's our miracle, Cloud."