Happy Friday! I had some fun taking from Remake for some scenes in this chapter. I'm happy to report I'm twice as far in chapters as this fic, so I'll be continuing to send them your way every Friday for a long while! As always, an incredible thank you to my best friend and beta Rand0mSmil3z for taking the time to help polish my writing. She's the greatest!


Aerith

Aerith woke up pissed. The dream she had been having was rapidly fading already, but something about it left a sour taste in her mouth and made her feel defensive. There had been something about a fight, some sort of panic, and an abrupt falling sensation that was almost overshadowed by a leering, angry, determined presence that felt like poison in her mind. She pushed the covers off her warm body and swung her feet to the side of the bed, stomping her way over to the kitchenette to serve herself some morning tea. As she walked, she noticed yesterday's stiff clothing, dry from the rain but coated in a thin layer of ash that had welded itself to her jacket and pants. She sighed heavily, mood worsening, and set about preparing the kettle with water.

Cloud hadn't messaged her last night. This was the fact of the matter, and it was one of the main reasons she was in such a poor mood. Despite his agreement to do as such, her PHS had sat there, silent and unmoving, at least until the newsworthy explosion that had rocked her from bed and made her rip open her curtains with a new, bleary horror.

Reactor five was gone. In its place was a fiery torpedo of green and red, shooting black, thick smoke into the sky. Aerith glared out the open curtains at the cheerfully sunny morning, the bright sky accentuating the twisting, smoking ruins of the reactor. If she had to put a finger on it, she guessed that Avalanche had done more terrorism.

As the kettle began simmering the water, Aerith heard a buzz from her PHS back on her nightstand. She practically flew across the room to grab it, disappointment evident on her face when she saw the message was from Kunsel.

Did your new friends do this?

She sighed angrily and gripped the PHS tightly, stalking back over to the couch and plopping down. A headache was blooming behind her eyes, trying to gently remind her that she needed to lower her stress levels. She didn't want to lose this negativity, however, and she pulled her PHS back up to reply.

They're not my friends, she immediately typed, and probably. They never got back to me yesterday.

She punched out the last of the message and flicked the send button, tossing it on the couch before heading back to prepare the teabag. Her timing was excellent – the kettle had begun eliciting its telltale high pitched signal right as she pulled it off the stove. With her freshly brewing tea in hand, Aerith went back to the couch to stare at the reactor – or rather, the lack of reactor . The PHS buzzed again.

I got a weird message from my A contact. They're asking for your contact information. Can I give it to them?

She sighed, setting the cup down. Fine, she typed in response, though Kunsel's message had her frowning. Why would they need her contact information? Cloud already had it in the PHS she had given him…unless he had lost it or it was destroyed in their endeavors?

Nothing was making sense and Aerith's mood wasn't improving. She headed over to her closet and threw on some easy clothes for the day – a pair of comfortable black leggings and a gray sweater. After dressing, she ran a brush carefully through her hair and gathered it into a ponytail at the top of her head. Tying her favorite pink ribbon at the top, she felt ready enough for the day.

After finishing her tea and waiting impatiently for further correspondence from either Kunsel or a random member of Avalanche, Aerith decided she needed to get out. Her hands were itching to do something, and as she stuffed her PHS in her pocket, she resolved to find a solution. Pulling boots on and leaving her apartment, she headed down the hallway – past the long-empty First Class SOLDIER rooms – to the executive section. Rufus was sure to be here.

The executive section was upscaled in a more tasteful, modern version of the boring hallway that held her room. She hadn't been to Rufus's apartment in years, not since they were both younger. Nevertheless, like muscle memory she stopped outside the unmarked door and tapped her knuckles against the knocker three loud times. Movement shifted slowly on the other side, but before long the lock was slid off and the door opened to reveal Rufus gazing down at her, trademark impassive expression on his face.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

She frowned at him. "I want to punch something," she told him matter-of-factly, anger licking at her insides. Rufus raised an eyebrow, but then sighed and opened the door wider.

"Come in then," he said, his expression exasperated as he ushered inside. She stomped in and crossed her arms, trying to keep the angry side up – she was beginning to recognize she was being childish, but she didn't care.

Rufus's apartment was large, just as minimalist as his office, and looked barely lived in. The only obvious signs of life from the room were the percolating coffee on the stove, a single mug set in the middle of a concrete island countertop, and a throw blanket laying haphazardly on his plush, white sofa that faced a muted tv showing the morning news. His apartment was just as nice as she remembered.

"Is now the appropriate time for childish tantrums?" he asked as he smoothly pulled the percolator from the stove and poured coffee to the brim of his cup – he took his drink black. Aerith's frown deepened.

"Furthermore," Rufus continued as he carried his mug into the living room, sitting in the space he had obviously abandoned when he answered the door, "do you have a right to be angry after the stunt you pulled yesterday?"

Aerith stopped, anger evaporating as she stared at him. He knew.

Rufus patted the couch next to him, not in an endearing or encouraging way, but more because he wanted her closer.

"Come," he ordered. "See what your new acquaintance was up to last night."

He was looking at the tv and her eyes followed his to stare at the news. She found her feet bringing her towards the living room as her eyes widened.

There, as plain as day, was drone footage of the same person that had been on her mind all night. His eyes were narrowed in defiance as he glared at the camera. The drone footage next focused on the face of a strangely familiar woman, with sleek, jet-black hair that was pulled back in a low ponytail in the small of her back. Finally, an absolutely huge presence of a man with a large gun for an arm was shouting muted expletives at the camera. The news flashed to other footage of bodies sneaking through a fence and inside vents as they infiltrated the reactor. Finally, it cut to different angles of a long, fiery battle between the three and some kind of robotic monster. In the corner of the screen, a box with Wutai's symbol announced Shinra's decision on the matter. Aerith gasped a little, putting a hand to her mouth.

Rufus's voice suddenly cut through her rapid thoughts. "Do you want to tell me what you were doing with a Wutai spy yesterday in sector one?" he asked. His voice was calm and cool, but Aerith couldn't rip her eyes from the tv as it showed other angles of the reactor break-in and subsequent sabotage. She followed every moment that the camera showed Cloud, from when he had first snuck in, to his part in the battle against the mech. The way he moved with his sword was purposeful and graceful, almost like he was dancing with it as he sliced cleanly and thrust to destroy his foe. She was transfixed.

"Aerith."

She tore her eyes away and frowned at Rufus, who was staring at her.

"Why did you meet with a Wutai spy?" he asked her coolly.

The earlier panic at being found out so soon had faded somewhat, and Aerith's mind worked in overtime to try and process Rufus's current question on the table. Her heart pounding in her chest as she turned her back on the television, she replied with a shrug, "No reason." The elusiveness in her answer had even her cringing, so she continued while walking back to the kitchen, "I liked talking to him." That wasn't a lie, at least. And she was still on her mission to find answers about Zack's death, so the more outside the strong arm of Shinra she looked, the better a chance she would get those answers. If this man – Wutai Spy, SOLDIER, Avalanche, whomever he was – was the person that could help her get those answers, then so be it.

"If you're not careful, you'll get on the president's bad side. You know what will happen if you do," he reminded her calmly. Aerith, back turned away from Rufus, paled a bit. Yes, she knew what would happen. Hojo would have more control. She clenched her fists to hide the shaking that had begun to pick up.

She didn't hear him approach, but Aerith started when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around to see Rufus standing there, pity evident on his face.

"If you want to punch something, follow me," he instructed, hand leaving her shoulder as he turned around to follow a hallway cutting a path through his apartment. Aerith had never gone beyond the living room before, and she hesitated momentarily before choosing to follow, curiosity winning over the fear that still trilled in her heart at the idea of Hojo getting his hands on her again.

Rufus's apartment was huge. The hallway led past a series of closed doors, more than any one man needed, and ended at an actual gym that was stocked with a small jogging track, a weight-lifting section, and its own armory. Aerith stared in shock at the expanse of space, mouth dropping open as she entered the room. Rufus led her to the armory, where a plethora of assorted weapons and materia greeted her.

"If fists are what you want to use, I won't stop you," Rufus was saying as he eyed the rack of weapons down. "I thought perhaps you would rather find a weapon of preference first." He side-eyed her and Aerith closed her mouth, nodding once. She didn't know why Rufus was continuing their training from a few years prior, but she wasn't about to complain. She tentatively stepped forward at his suggestion and looked at the weapons. By far the widest range of choice was a sword, and she cautiously picked up a smaller one, careful to keep the pointy side away from her. As she felt the balance in her hands, she realized she didn't like this feeling at all. She put it back and moved next to the guns. She knew almost nothing about them, so she glanced back at Rufus to see if he'd make an offer on what to choose. Rufus stepped forward and, after a moment of speculation, pulled a simple pistol off the shelf.

"Here, give it a try," he said with a gesture to the back wall, where Aerith saw a range of targets. She took the gun and, with his instruction, gripped it and held it up to eye-level. Rufus wrapped his hand around hers, directing her forefinger to the trigger. She held her breath and squeezed once, flinching at the slight recoil that struck her arms as the loud bang reverberated throughout the room.

"I'm not sure about that," she said breathlessly as she handed it back to him. "Is there a more… hands off approach I can take?"

Rufus thought for a moment before replacing the gun onto the wall. Then he moved over to the tallest part of the armory rack: a series of staffs. He picked up a couple, weighing them and contemplating. Aerith watched as he nodded once to one and pulled it off the shelf, handing it to her.

"How about this?" he asked as she took it, her hands searching for a comfortable grip. It felt light and malleable in her hands, and it also left a pleasant feeling in her heart. Rufus gestured for her to aim at the targets again and she gave a small brandish of the staff, feeling magic echoing its way up the core and out the end to hit dead in the center of a target. She gasped in delight, her fingers tingling from the pleasant feel of the magic.

"I like this one," she said with a big smile. Rufus nodded as if he wasn't surprised, turning back to the armory and pulling off a few materia.

"Do you have your fire materia with you?" he asked her. She nodded once, fumbling for the small orb that she had hidden in her favorite ribbon. Rufus took it from her, adding it to the plethora he held in his hands. Then, as Aerith watched, he inserted a few into the three available slots. At the top was her green fire materia, followed by a simple green materia, and ending with a vivid purple one.

"If you want to be ready for anything, it's best to have one offensive materia, a healing materia, and an MP up materia," he instructed her as he stood back up, dusting off his hands. "Casting magic can be draining on you, so the MP up will help you a lot."

Aerith wasn't looking at that one, however. She was staring at the one in the middle.

"Healing materia?" she asked softly. "I can heal people?"

She didn't know why this resounded with her so much, but the idea that she could finally be useful to the people of Midgar was a new, unfamiliar comfort. She smiled at the small materia, hopeful she would be able to help a lot of people.

"That's what healing materia does. Would you like me to show you how to use them?"

Aerith's resounding 'yes' echoed throughout the gym, making her laugh a little.

The next hour or two had Rufus showing Aerith how to use the staff and the materia. While he didn't use a staff himself, he seemed to have a good understanding of how to wield such a long-range weapon, which honestly wasn't that surprising to her. She was happy enough to learn, something she wished she had known ages ago. In the back of her mind while she learned to cast fire on a nearby target with stunning accuracy, Aerith had begun to devise a plan that could help her out of her current situation. She wasn't the safest as it was with her recent endeavors, and she had a feeling the only reason she hadn't been harshly reprimanded yet was because her guardian was still reeling from the destruction of the second reactor. She probably didn't have much time now, and so she needed to make a choice – a very, very, difficult choice.

Once Aerith had built up a comfortable sweat and felt a bit more proficient with the weapon she had been given, Rufus showed her how to minimize the staff and only appear at her will. This skill would be most useful of all, she knew, as she minimized the staff and clasped her hands in her gratefulness.

"Thank you, Rufus," she said sincerely with a smile on her face. "I feel more prepared now than ever!"

Rufus crossed his arms. "With the company you've been keeping, I would rather you're able to protect yourself than be defenseless," he said simply. "Which reminds me: I'm not sure what you're doing or why you're doing it, but Father is going to realize it if he hasn't already. You need to keep a low profile, Aerith. You're going to be in trouble as it is."

Aerith gulped a bit, keeping the now-shaky smile on her lips.

"Thanks for the advice," she said. "I can take care of myself, you know. I'm not a child anymore."

Rufus stepped closer, hand closing on her shoulder as he stared at her. "I mean it," he said lowly. "You will get hurt if you continue down this path, and I cannot help you if you don't help me first."

His words held a double-edged sword, one that slid into her stomach and twisted itself there. Aerith swallowed hard – his show of concern was a thinly-veiled threat.

"I can take care of myself," she reiterated, pushing his hand off her shoulder. "Maybe you should focus on how you're going to free me instead of worrying about whom I choose to associate myself with."

Rufus frowned at her for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his PHS. He pressed a couple buttons and brought the device to his ear.

"Tseng? I'll need a guard at Aerith's door," he said smoothly. "I'm concerned for her well-being."

Aerith gasped in shock and outrage, narrowing her eyes as anger flickered back up her bones and took out the twisted dagger of words he'd just said.

"Rufus!" she shrieked. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Rufus ended the call with a smirk, slipping the device back into his pocket. "Come now," he said, "I'll escort you back to your room – where you are to stay until you learn who you should and shouldn't be spending time with."

Aerith had half a mind to whip the staff back out and show him who he shouldn't be spending time with, but before she could he had a hold of her arm and was hauling her out of the gym and down the hallway to the door again.

"You are absolutely ridiculous!" she admonished angrily, clenching her fist again. "All that help and just to stuff me in a room by myself? So I can whither away and die? What about the freedom you promised me?"

"It isn't time yet for that," he replied instantly, no trace of his secrets in his voice or collected expression. "For the time being, it's important you stay safe and right where you need to be. Any further trouble will bring bad publicity upon the Shinra name and will be the end of the line for your stint as a loving ward." He spat the last word, and Aerith visibly flinched at the tone. This was the Rufus she remembered now – a barely-concealed angry man with a grudge and self-fulfilling purpose. She found herself dragged back down the hallway to her room, where Reno was already waiting, arms crossed as he sulked at his new job.

"I have better things I could be doing," he said with a pout as he eyed Aerith unhappily.

"I'm your boss and you'll do as I say," Rufus commanded, pulling Aerith forward and gesturing for her to unlock the door. Aerith did begrudgingly, glaring daggers at both men before throwing open the door and being shoved in.

"Rufus, you are the absolute worst son of a –" she didn't get to finish her well-crafted insult before he'd slammed the door shut in her face. Aerith huffed angrily and kicked her boots off, stomping over to the couch and throwing herself onto it.

In the back of her mind as she lay there in her fury, Aerith remembered the tv footage she'd seen earlier. She remembered the soggy blond hair that topped the serious expression of the man whose company she'd grown to enjoy. She thought back to that sword, very obviously Zack's, and the confusion Cloud had at trying to remember where he had gotten it.

Aerith reached over to her tv remote and flicked the device to life, scanning as she looked for more information on the reactor bombing. Shinra's news station was showing the same footage again, with more of an emphasis on the battle. The announcer was talking in-depth about Wutai and some of the spy tactics they had used during the war, how they matched the fighting techniques of the Avalanche girl in particular. As she watched, a large explosion hit the platform they were fighting on, knocking out one camera. A feed from a second drone patched in almost immediately, showcasing the results: the mech had fallen, and Cloud Strife was hanging with one arm above a sure death of a fall. As she watched, another explosion rang out, pushing the others to safety while Cloud lost his grip. She gasped and stared, wide-eyed, as he fell out of range.

He had fallen.

In a sudden remembrance she recalled the fall that had woken her up from her strange dream the night before. She whipped out her PHS, remembering Kunsel's weird request for her contact information. She hadn't checked it since she had gone to Rufus's.

There, waiting, was a new correspondence. Her heart fluttered in a terrifying, anxious lurch as she opened the message.

This is a friend of Cloud's. He fell into the slums from above. We don't know if he survived or where he is. Can you help me find him? He seemed to like you.

Her heart dropped into her stomach and she clutched the PHS hard. It had been over seven hours since the incident had occurred, and he hadn't tried contacting her yet. She dreaded to think it, but the thought that he may not even be alive anymore threatened to bring tears to her eyes. Thinking that a simple message wouldn't be enough, she pressed call and shakily brought the phone to her ear.

The recipient picked up on the second ring, only evident by the breathing on the other end of the phone.

"Hello?" the hoarse voice of a woman answered.

Aerith instantly put a face to the voice. "You were with him…last night?" she asked tentatively, her own voice soft.

"...Yes."

It was pretty obvious the woman was upset. Aerith let out a breath and continued, "I'm Aerith. And I… I saw what happened on the news."

"Tifa," the other responded. "Can you help me? I don't know where to start. I don't even know if he's…" she trailed off, and Aerith interpreted the silence pretty easily.

"He is," she said quickly. "I… The last time I lost somebody I liked, their soul came to say goodbye. I haven't heard anything from Cloud yet."

She knew this wasn't a tried and true science and the two had only known each other for a couple days, but something in Aerith's mind told her she was right – if Cloud Strife were to die, the planet would let her know.

"That's…interesting," Tifa replied slowly.

"I don't know how much help I'll be though," Aerith sighed. "I'm kinda… on house arrest at the moment."

"Because you two met in sector one?"

"Yeah." She glared at the smoking reactor out the window. "I may be able to get out, but I wouldn't have the slightest idea on where to look."

"Hold on."

Tifa's voice had caught a bit, and Aerith waited as other, muffled voices had a quick conversation on the other end of the receiver. She turned over the thought of Cloud in her head, trying to will the planet to show her if he was alive. Unfortunately, she had no such luck.

"Sorry about that," Tifa rushed as she came back on.

"Not a problem!"

"My friend here was just saying there were people searching the sector seven slums for us. Shinra placed a bounty on our heads."

Aerith sighed heavily.

"Sounds like them, all right," she replied.

"That's not all – apparently Don Corneo of Wall Market is in on it. It was his men searching for the other two."

Aerith digested those words, realization sparking and making her sit up straighter.

"Tifa – he's in Wall Market?" she asked uncertainly.

"That's what it sounds like," Tifa replied, voice saturated with relief. "Look, you were planning on coming down to Wall Market anyway today, right? Would you still be able to do that?"

Aerith thought hard about her unwilling guard outside and a plan began to formulate in her mind.

"Yes, I think I will be able to," she said thoughtfully. "I'll try and be there by midday."

"All right," Tifa replied. "I think I have a plan too. We need to get in closer to Corneo and find out what he knows. I'll see what I can do on my end. Meet me outside Corneo's mansion in Wall Market."

"Okay," Aerith agreed, clenching a fist again and summoning her staff. Delightedly, she felt it materialize in her grip. She grinned. Time to go find Cloud.


Cloud

Everything was black.

A low, swooping sensation hooked into his stomach and pushed, making him feel as if he were falling into a pool of water, gasping for air with each agonizing second. That all-too-familiar anger that constantly pulsed in his mind reared up, licking the fear that spread into his veins like ice as he found himself paralyzed.

Black gave way to white, and the anger softened, retreating back into its habitation behind locked walls he couldn't access. The faint, familiar floral smell that danced across his nostrils soothed the fear that threatened to consume him, and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Maybe just another minute of rest…

"Hey, buddy," a discombobulated voice from somewhere nearby greeted gently. "You okay?"

He managed to squeeze out a breathless "Yeah" from a tight throat. Nervousness? Pain? He couldn't register anything.

"Made it through with just a couple of scraped knees back then," the voice mused lightly but carefully, and Cloud frowned to himself.

"'Back then'?" Cloud repeated slowly.

"Whaddaya say? Are we doing this?"

The voice was low and familiar, one that graced at the outskirts of his memories – those that were over the edge of his cliff of knowledge and out of reach. "Have we…" he asked slowly, trying to find the words. Coherent thought was beginning to come back to him now.

"Never mind about that," the voice replied, a bit more sternly. "Right now, you need to focus on yourself. Move something. Anything."

Simple enough request.

"Why not…"

His limbs, like they were submerged in liquid concrete, were sluggish and not entirely responsive. Nevertheless, he succeeded – with great effort – in moving a single finger. Progress.

"Good," the voice encouraged. "Easy does it. Slow and steady."

Yeah, yeah, he thought to himself, not realizing he'd spoken these words out loud. This nagging was beginning to remind him of his mother. There was a soft chuckle from nearby, and a hand placed itself gently onto his shoulder, the first thing he had felt of this whitewashed world. It gave him a bit more power to move, and he lifted his head ever-so-slightly, determined to focus enough to speak.

"Hey, uh…who are you?" he asked, finally finding the strength to lift his heavy eyelids. Instantly the white world vanished, replaced once again by one shrouded in darkness. The hand pressed more firmly into his shoulder, solidifying the contact and getting his heart racing. "Who are you?" he asked again, a bit more fearfully this time.

A terrifyingly familiar, soft voice slid like poison into his ears and through his brain.

"I am…your everything," Sephiroth hissed, and his head jerked back in shock as he tried to turn around and see for himself.

Sephiroth was gone. He was surrounded by thick darkness that threatened to swallow him. Meanwhile, the presence in his head was pleased, tickled pink by his torture. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to wake up.

The first thing Cloud realized was that he was in pain. His body was sore, as if he had slammed into some heavy surface. His left leg felt unsteady and sharp, along with his right wrist. The familiar, comforting weight of his sword wasn't at his back, leaving him feeling exposed. He also found that he couldn't open his eyes, as his head swam with painful, sharp jabs at any impact of light against them. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, groaning.

His body didn't feel too uncomfortable, despite the immense pain that had begun creeping closer and closer to the surface of his awareness. His bare arms felt soft against individual strands of something that felt soothing and cool. He was on his stomach, a position that felt wrong in his current state. He grit his teeth and did his best to try and move, to even reach one of his potions.

"Shit," somebody swore loudly nearby. Cloud tensed instantly, halting his movements. He hadn't yet found the ability to speak, as his mouth felt dry.

"It's fine, the kid ain't going nowhere without help," another person said, and Cloud felt a slight kick against his bad leg. He groaned again as pain flared up his leg and into his chest. Everything became too hot.

"Put him under, it'll be easier," the first voice – a high, reedy, voice that didn't belong to anybody he'd met before suggested. Cloud tried to find his voice and his strength, tried to will his body into cooperating. Before he was able to do anything, he felt a soft cloud of sleep descend heavily onto his mind, willing him to unconsciousness once more.

In and out of consciousness as pain continued to flare up, he was able to only catch snippets of what was happening. He was moving, and not of his own accord. His body ached, pleading for the movement to stop, but he was powerless to do anything.

Next thing he knew, the movement had thankfully stopped. Cold air now clung to his bare arms as he lay on his side, face pressed against an equally cold floor. Stone? Everything was dark, which was a welcome change to the previous time he could remember being awake. His body was slowly trying to mend itself, teaching his broken bones to heal and encouraging his headache to temporarily subside. He lay silently, feeling his body working, unable to do much more than dream of drinking some water.

A sweet-smelling haze washed over him, lulling him back to a dreamless, endless slumber.

The next time Cloud awoke, he felt much clearer. His pain had subsided to a minimum, and his senses all seemed intact. He was sitting now, back pressed against what felt metal bars. He blearily opened his eyes for the first time in what felt like forever, adjusting slowly to his dark surroundings. Once he did, he bolted awake and jerked around, taking in where he was.

He was in the air, suspended in some sort of metal cage in what looked like a dungeon, not one he was familiar with. Below him were various items, both those that did and those that did not look like they belonged in a dungeon. His hands curled around the bars in front of him, searching as quickly as he could for a way down. Above him, the cage was suspended with a thick chain, one that wouldn't be easy to cut. His sword and items were nowhere to be seen, either; he was royally screwed.

Cloud growled in frustration and jerked back, resting his back against the bars behind him. The cage swung a bit, making his stomach turn the slightest. Good thing he hadn't had anything to eat or drink since meeting Aerith in sector one.

Aerith. His heart jolted as he felt quickly for the PHS she had given him. Of course his captor had taken that from him. He wondered how long it had been since his fall from reactor five, whether Tifa was looking for him. He wondered if Aerith was angry at him for not messaging her the night before. He sighed, leaning his head against the bars and closing his eyes.

With having no idea where he was and how he would get out, he knew there wasn't much he could do from here. It would take some planning to get out of this one, he realized as he tried to settle in. His body was still healing, and he would need all the strength he had to bust out properly. Hopefully, he could find that strength and escape before whoever was holding him came to chat. He grit his teeth in determination, crossing his arms and keeping his head tilted upwards.

He would wait.