Homecoming

The city of Edge closed in around him, and Cloud felt an odd sense of uneasiness upon returning home.

Construction seemed never ending there; new monochrome buildings stood all around in various stages of completion. Spells of light from the afternoon sun peeked through open slivers of gray clouds overhead, reflecting dully against industrial steel. The population even seemed thicker, the hustle and bustle of pedestrians padding through the streets and disappearing into stores or residences. The domesticity of city life played out before him as he glided through atop the rumble of Fenrir.

Like a spark to dried underbrush, the blaze of gossip soared through Gaia with the rumblings of a new yet familiar rise to power over Edge; the once free city now placed in the hands of the co-conspirator of the Planets near demise with WRO's full support. The murmurs of Shinra's sudden power grab reached him through his travels back home, prompted by a heated voicemail from Barret about the issue. The message itself was difficult to discern between the bellowing profanities and the rage-filled metaphors, but the word 'Shinra' peppered all throughout the lengthy information dump. It wouldn't have surprised him to know the abrupt end of the call was due to an aneurysm.

Cloud didn't allot any genuine concern to Shinra. His clipped conversation with Rufus during the Geostigma era left him with the feeling that his efforts at apologizing to Gaia and its residents would expand beyond his wallet in due time. A cunning nature was heavily ingrained into the blueprint of his personality, but near-death had a way of altering one's motives. If Cloud's instincts were correct, those motives were now closely aligned with righting the wrongs of the past.

Edge was a good start.

The call and the rumors were well-timed. His absence had been a much longer extension than he'd originally expected. He hadn't chosen to run for the sake of running; he hadn't chalked himself up to a lost cause and resolved to live out his days in a dilapidated church, a structural representation of guilt he didn't deserve. This time, he had left for a different reason.

There was a chill in the air, carried along by billowing winds that brushed against his face. Winter was fast approaching, the scent of the day's long precipitation lingering on as he coasted down paved roads, drawing closer to his distance. A sudden knot clenched his stomach as cerulean eyes narrowed behind his goggles.

They'd beaten Geostigma, beaten the Remnants, and he'd beaten his guilt. Unfortunately, it just wasn't enough for him to settle down into normalcy. The spoiled, festering bits in his head took space where they didn't belong and couldn't shake them free. He tried to barrel through the motions and hoped eventually it would pass, but the pit of despondency only widened and deepened with time.

How can you look after your family if you can't even take care of yourself?

Seventh Heaven was quiet when he finally arrived, bold text reading 'Closed' pressed against the clear glass window.

Something stirred within him when he considered entrance through the garage. Since he'd been away so long, entering uninvited felt intrusive. He suddenly wondered if he should be there at all, if returning was a mistake. He wondered if they would welcome him back into the fold.

His thoughts drifted to the night of his departure then. After making up his bed for the last time for a while, he scribbled out a lengthy letter behind his exodus. Coherency was lacking on paper, and frustration led him to shred his efforts. The pieces of his explanation rained into the trash bin by his desk as he pried something far more simplistic from his troubled mind. It was a partial lie but it was all he could summon without causing too much worry. Ultimately, he knew it would be little to assuage anyone's fears. It was a regret he still carried.

Killing the engine, Cloud positioned the bike off to the shadows of the entrance and flipped off his goggles, tossing them into the pouch at Fenrirs' side. While he couldn't go back and change anything about that night, perhaps he could make them understand now.

Instinctively, he reached for his keys. The motion felt foreign, out of place. He reasoned himself out of putting up Fenrir in the garage; he couldn't possibly enter Seventh Heaven unannounced. However, he still technically lived there, didn't he? His head was suddenly a cluster of confusion, agitation at his indecision welling up and spilling over.

He lifted his fist to knock, rapping three times before dropping his arm to his side and waited.

Only seconds passed before the door swung wide, and his eyes settled on the familiar face of Denzel.

Excitement and astonishment pervaded over his features as he stood in the doorway. "Cloud...it is you." He turned his head to shout over his shoulder, "I told you he was back!"

The pitter-patter of footsteps drew near before Marlene appeared beside Denzel. A smile crossed her lips before it vanished completely, a look of admonishment taking its place. "Where have you been, Cloud?"

The grin that caught his mouth surprised even him as he looked down at the children, realizing suddenly how much he'd missed them. "Can I come in?"

The two immediately parted, allowing him to pass over the threshold and into the room as the door fell shut behind him.

Everything was as he remembered—various picture frames littering the walls, bottles and cookery behind the polished bar, a green chalkboard filled with yesterday's specials. The floor was freshly mopped, the pungent aroma of a pine scented cleaner wafting through his nose. There was something different about it, however. A home once warm and welcoming felt oddly cold and melancholy.

Something was wrong.

Marlene and Denzel they approached him cautiously, as if he were a delicate apparition soon to dissipate into the stratosphere. He looked at them, the small difference in their persons' striking him. Had they grown? They looked at least an inch or two taller.

"Why didn't you use your key?" Denzel asked.

Cloud stretched his arm behind his head, fingers digging into the back of his neck. He still hadn't managed to break himself of his nervous itch. Because I was afraid the locks had changed.

"It doesn't matter, he's home now." Marlene came to his rescue, only to direct a much more pointed and loaded question at him. "So... why were you gone for so long?"

"Work was busy," he lied. The truth seemed far more complicated to convey to them. Their faces, however, told him they didn't quite believe him. How do you tell kids their age you had to fix yourself? "Where's Tifa?"

They both hesitated before their eyes glanced collectively behind the bar.

"She's in there a lot, in the garage," Denzel stated solemnly. "Ever since Reno left."

"Reno? The Turk?" Cloud questioned with a frown.

Denzel nodded, "That's the one."

Cloud recalled Reno and Rude were frequent visitors within the late hours of Seventh Heaven. While he initially didn't take much of a liking to their presence and would have preferred they found another spot to wet their whistle, Tifa insisted they be left to their own devices, their gil as good as anyone's. They never caused a ruckus, at least while he was there, and had no reason to use force to escort them out.

That knowledge offered no answers to whatever implication was being made by the kids, but the distress that crossed their eyes warned him there was a certain significance to the absence.

And what was she doing in the garage?

The sound of footfalls behind the bar cut off any further conversation about it.

Tifa came into view as she approached the counter. She looked tired and worn out. "Kids, did someone come to the door?" A flash of various emotions flooded over her face when she spotted him.

Cloud saw her stand there, posture rigid and fighting against some invisible entity based on the notable quiver of her bare biceps and the twitch of her brow. The warmth of her eyes was several degrees below its normal temperature, and he felt the chill that greeted him in frosty waves—it made his mouth dry and his body freeze over.

Maybe he should have called, first.

With quick expertise, she drew on a smile, tight and forced. It failed to reach her eyes. "Welcome back, Cloud."

The reception was as frigid as he feared it would be.

The kids looked uncomfortable, glancing between the two adults in the room, waiting for the proverbial pin to drop.

Cloud was just as nervous as they were. "Thanks."

The air between them felt cold and oppressive as he watched her; the pallor of her skin slick and ruddy, a layer of fatigue along with something he couldn't quite place behind the mask of her expression. She pinned him in place beneath her stare, and he steeled himself against whatever well deserved reprimand may come.

One never did.

Her gaze fell away with a blink, the smile dissolving into indifference. Quickly, she retreated through the kitchen, disappearing altogether.

Guilt bloomed in his chest, almost enough to send him out again. However, he knew he deserved the icy greeting to his unannounced return. He didn't begrudge her for it, but he wished it had played out differently.

"You should go talk to her," Marlene said once Tifa was out of earshot, the volume of her voice dropping considerably. "You have been gone a long time, but I know she's glad you're back. She just didn't show it."

He wasn't sure that was true, but the hopefulness of her expression inspired a shred of confidence.

"She probably misses Reno," Denzel offered. "I wish he'd come back. He was cool."

"I still have to draw his portrait," Marlene added sadly.

Confusion clouded his face as he looked from Denzel to Marlene, noting the gaping hole in the middle of this mysterious puzzle. How much time had Reno spent in Seventh Heaven to establish any kind of connection with them? Why was Tifa suddenly comfortable with a Turk within close proximity of the kids? How close were they?

"Were Reno and Tifa...really good friends?" he asked carefully.

Their own confusion informed him they didn't quite get the insinuation.

He knelt down to their level, Marlene's level—Denzel easily surpassing him in height at a crouch. "Can you tell me what happened when Reno left?"

Denzel looked to Marlene, who seemed to have no trouble providing the information. "It was really loud downstairs, like a fight, when I went to the bathroom. I woke Denzel up, but we're supposed to stay put if fights happen so we waited. When we thought it stopped, we went downstairs and saw Reno leaving but Tifa was asking him not to go. He said something to Tifa, then he kissed her goodbye—"

"Kissed her?" Cloud questioned, incredulous.

She nodded, and Denzel picked up the rest. "She was really upset when he was gone and wouldn't talk to us at first. She just went to her room. The next day she acted like everything was fine, until she started cleaning up the bar and found a lighter." His face dropped as he continued, "She tried not to do it in front of us, but she couldn't help it and cried over it. And then Barret came, and things got really weird."

The surprise on his face wasn't exactly subtle, but neither one seemed to notice. "When did all of this happen?"

"A few days ago," Marlene replied. "Daddy was mad and said a lot of bad words about Shinra. Tifa told him Reno wasn't coming back just like he wanted, and he said," her chest puffed out as the timbre of her voice dropped as low as it would register, "'Good! If that Goddamn Turk ever shows his Goddamn face around here again I'm pumping him full of bullets'. That was when Tifa stopped talking to him."

The voicemail regarding Shinra had been around the same time, and Junon was within reasonable proximity to Edge to make a trip to visit the family. He would have arrived furious—a powder keg on the brink of explosion.

It all started to make sense.

"I'll go talk to her."

There was relief in their eyes and he could only hope to meet their expectations.

"Don't make her more upset like Barret did when you go talk to her," Denzel warned emphatically. "We just don't want her to be upset anymore."

"I'll do my best." Cloud offered them a small smile as he rose to leave them, following Tifa's path into the garage.

The thought of her with Reno looped through his mind like a film on repeat. Whatever had transpired seemed to have ended now, but the lasting effects of the separation lived on. The union itself was something he thought he'd find Cait Sith foretelling—a fortune with no basis in reality. Although, given the life they all led until this point, it perhaps shouldn't have surprised him. He thought he should have felt something like jealousy or anger, but he was surprised to find he felt neither.

The violent collision of leather to leather became louder and louder as he moved closer to the garage opening. Approaching the open doorway, he stood there for several moments, watching as she pummeled a punching bag that hung in the space where Fenrir once occupied. Eyeing its sway, he realized she stopped waiting for him to come back.

Pinpricks of apprehension needled their way beneath his skin. Their brief exchange left him anxious, but avoidance had always been the default setting. The threads within their family were frayed, and it may very well be up to him to repair them.

"Hey Tifa?"

Perspiration dripped in thin streams from her hairline down her cheeks, her hitched breath echoing with each strike as she continued to batter the bag.

She didn't answer.

"Can we talk?" he pressed, raising his voice a little louder.

"I'm busy," Tifa grunted, punches connecting noticeably harder the longer he stood there.

"Right. Sorry." This isn't working. "When you're ready, then."

She gave a right hook before heaving a sigh, sights still trained on her target. "I'll be right in."

"Okay." He turned just as she resumed her stance and sent a flurry of jabs against her inanimate opponent.

If she didn't want to talk, he hoped she'd at least listen—he had a lot to say.

The kids were waiting patiently for his return, having moved behind the bar to stand within the arch to the kitchen. They looked at him expectantly.

"Could you two do a favor for me and go upstairs for a bit so we can talk privately?"

A shadow of suspicion fell over their features.

"Do you promise not to leave without saying goodbye this time?" Denzel asked with noted skepticism.

The question stung.

"I'm not going to leave," Cloud assured them.

Marlene and Denzel hesitated. Perhaps they assumed a fight would ensue and lead to his departure all over again. Perhaps they just didn't trust him anymore.

He deserved that.

"I promise."

With a bit of slow reluctance, they dragged their feet toward the steps as Cloud turned back into the kitchen.

He sat at the round dining table, waiting for Tifa to end her assault from beyond the doorway. With hands clasped together in front of him, he deliberated over what to say, how to explain to her what he's been doing, why he left. He thought over what the children told him about Reno's recent exit, Tifa's shift in behavior from it, and the friction between her and Barret.

He wasn't sure if he should address the latter, fearing it would lead to unnecessary confrontation. His first instinct had been to keep quiet and avoid it all; it really wasn't any of his business. Yet after so much time away, he knew he had to push himself and face these emotional entanglements head on. He had to force himself into conversations and find resolutions through open dialogue.

Cloud had to somehow help fix what was set in motion to be broken.

The onslaught ended, and the lull of silence buzzed around his ears. He dragged his attention toward the doorway where Tifa stepped through, hands still covered by her fingerless gloves. She took the seat across from him, arms folding at her chest.

Tension tightly coiled around them.

"So…" he started carefully. "I've been gone awhile."

"I noticed."

Silence dropped like a sack of bricks. Great start.

"I heard about Shinra."

"Is that why you're back? To fight the power?" Tifa asked, her voice pulled tight like a rubber-band, ready to snap.

"No...not really," he sighed, frustrated. "Not to fight, just to check on things. On you guys. I got a voicemail from Barret about it."

Her face immediately darkened. "What else did he say?"

Cloud realized then Barret hadn't said a word about anything else—anything about that Goddamn Turk. "That's it."

"At least you check your voicemails."

Shame washed over his face. "I'm sorry, Tifa."

"I know."

The barrier between them was dense, forged thick over time and distance. He didn't know how to break it down.

"You said business calls in your note," Tifa said, her focus glued to some crevice on the wooden surface. "Why did you really leave this time?"

He braced himself. "To fix myself."

The confession grabbed her attention, her neutral expression shifting into confusion and concern. She finally managed to look at him without hidden notes of resentment. "I don't understand."

Cloud took a deep breath, hoping the words in his head made sense as they tumbled out of his mouth. "I didn't realize how messed up my head still was, even after the threats were gone, after I got over the guilt of...living. After Geostigma was healed, I thought I could settle in and just be a normal guy with my family. But I still felt empty and broken. I had doubts that I would be good enough like I was and I just didn't want to burden you with it until I figured it out."

Several beats passed before he had the courage to look at her. When he did, he noted the hint of sadness in her eyes and the downward curve of her mouth. Her hands had fallen onto the table, fingertips pressing into the fabric of the place-mat.

"You could have tried to tell me instead of just leaving," she told him.

"I did try. I just...couldn't." His hand went for his neck again, and he halted the motion mid-reach, lowering his arm back to the table. "I felt like I needed to do it on my own. These last few years have been a blur. There are moments, fond moments I can clearly remember, but mostly I felt stuck and uncomfortable in my skin, like something wasn't right. I knew I had to figure this out, before I could settle myself into any sort of normal life. But once I started to pull myself together and understand who I was and what I wanted, I wasn't sure I wanted a normal life. I started to understand that I...that I wanted to…" He trailed off, his mind in knots.

Tifa picked at the place-mat, at the worn threading from the cloth. He could hear the thinly veiled bitterness lacing each word. "Come and go, in and out of our lives."

That one hurt, partly because it was somewhat true. "Tifa…"

Either she didn't hear him or pretended not to. "I think I've always known that, how you aren't meant to be in one place. That's why Strife Delivery Service is suited well for you. You have the opportunity to be free and go about as you please. You realized that you're meant to wander, and that's where you feel most at home—on the road. "

"That's part of it," Cloud conceded. "But my family is still my family, and that hasn't changed."

"I'm sure it hasn't." Her brows furrowed, the gleam in her eye carrying a skeptical glint.

They meant everything to him, but his heart was restless. He desired the open road, the freedom of lush green landscapes and empty wastelands—the thrill of the unknown. Perhaps the Mako was responsible, the reason he yearned to chase after the adrenaline and the very reason why he couldn't settle down.

It was the hardest thing to accept about himself.

Cloud shifted uncomfortably as he gazed at her. The current subject was not going quite as planned and he searched his head for a topic to change it to.

"What happened with you and Reno?" The question slipped from his lips before he could pull it back in.

The stillness of her body, of her expression, unsettled him. The silent anger that had simmered went cold, replaced by hints of sorrow she failed to disguise. "Nothing."

Cloud could have left it at that, and should have. "A kiss isn't nothing."

Tifa's fingers curled tightly into her palms. "Are you going to reprimand me, too? Tell me that I'm betraying my family? Tell me what to do with my life?"

The accusation caught him off guard. "No—"

She cut him off, and he watched that previous simmer jump straight to a boil. "I don't tell you how to live, I don't tell Barret how to live. But you both leave me to raise children on my own; walk in and out of my life, and somehow you all have the right to dictate how I live? You all have the right to tell me I'm a traitor to their memory?"

"Tifa, I wasn't—"

Petulance leaked out of every word. "It doesn't even matter anymore, anyway. I don't get to have what I want."

This was bigger than him. He may have set the ball in motion, but the events thereafter had triggered this sadness, this indignation that swung at him like clenched, brazen fists. While he bore some of the blame, it was also shared with others, and he was due to have a chat with at least one of them.

Cloud held fast to his patience; she deserved no less. "What do you want, Tifa?"

"It doesn't matter what I want."

"That's not true," he insisted, leaning forward for emphasis, "What you want always matters—to the kids, to me. Tell me what it is." I'll do anything.

There was a flicker of something behind her glossy, claret irises before it dissolved into nothing. Abruptly, she changed face, forcing a smile and stood. "You must be hungry. I'll make you something."

Tifa crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator beside Cloud, who pivoted in his seat to watch her.

"How's a sandwich?" she asked, swinging the door wide, scanning the contents within.

Drawings, pictures, magnets all littered the door, some old, some new—they all successfully blocked his view from her. He knew it was on purpose. "I'm not hungry."

"Of course you are." The jovial lilt to her voice and the offerings to his belly were little more than a smokescreen. Cloud knew this song and dance too well to be deterred.

He stood, hovering by the door as he peered at her sternly, "Tifa, stop. You're avoiding this."

She ignored him. "I think I have some lunch meat, mayo. You were never really a fan of mustard, were you? There's some fresh bread on the count—"

Cloud slammed the door shut, magnets and drawings rattling with the motion. He didn't feel like dancing anymore. "We always do this. We always avoid the hard talks."

Startled by the closure, she continued to avoid him, glaring into the door weakly. "You run from them."

"I did," he agreed softly. "But I'm not running now."

Tifa didn't move, didn't speak. She was challenging him with her stubborn reserve, holding her desires close to her chest.

He started to wonder if the barrier between them was insurmountable. "Do you want me to leave?"

As the seconds passed, her visage slowly began to soften. A small, tired smile spread across her mouth as she turned to him. Anger still lingered, floating just below the surface, but it was no longer directed at him. While some of it would have been justified, it didn't all belong to him. "I didn't want you to leave in the first place. But you've been gone so long that…"

"Things have changed."

It wasn't difficult for him to put it together. There was a point when their paths were one, and they both traversed the road of the future side by side, hand in hand. But as time went by, his path split from where it merged with hers and he left her behind. Now that he's come to unite with her once more, her course was no longer open to him in the same way it used to be.

Tifa wanted to move on, and he would let her.

"I don't want you to leave," she said, a tenderness seeping into her tone. "Your family is here, and we've missed you."

Cloud smiled, "I've missed you all, too."

The barrier was crumbling, and relief flowed through him.

The smile she supplied was equally genuine. "Where exactly did you go? Did you just… travel?"

Cloud considered how much he should tell her, how much she needed to know. Some of the details were ugly and painful when he looked directly into the face of his demons and banished away their existence. It wasn't an easy process, and It wasn't easy to talk about either.

"For a while, I drifted. I didn't really know where to go or what to do. I ended up in Cosmo Canyon, and stayed there the majority of the time I was away."

"It's quite peaceful there," she admitted. "Did you see Nanaki?"

He recalled the moment Yuffie rang his friend within the first week he'd appeared as an aimless mess.

Cosmo Canyon, while welcome to travelers and others seeking to learn more about the Planet, it was not terribly welcoming of spies. Regardless, as head of Intelligence, she utilized her resources to get her sights on him, inquiring as to his whereabouts, and if Nanaki had seen Cloud and his Fenrir gallivanting through the barren plains of the Canyon. While looking him in the eye, his four-legged comrade offered a very simple, short answer.

"No, I didn't," he answered her a bit too quickly.

She didn't seem to notice. "I guess you didn't really see anyone we know. I probably would have heard."

He felt his chest seize with the guilt of avoidance, hiding his purpose and location. He knew it would hurt her and he did it anyway.

That one day etched in their mutual history suddenly came to mind. "You know, that day you called? The day of Nibelheim… I'm sorry I didn't answer."

"You never answer. Why would that be any different?" There was a tinge of ironic humor in the question.

Cloud sighed, "Because I was there. In Nibelheim."

Tifa's face fell with dread, staring at him silently.

"It was one of the last parts of my healing, to confront my past," he began. "Everything was different there, obviously. Our Nibelheim has been replaced. But the ghosts of those memories are still there and I needed to face them. And after all these years, I finally mourned."

Aesthetically, their town hadn't changed from when they first revisited, rebuilt into a replica of their old home with not one recognizable soul from the past. The memories came flooding with a vengeance nonetheless, and he could still feel the heat of the flames licking his skin as his life turned to ash. He forced himself to remember it all; the monster that destroyed his home, the death of his mother, and the loss of himself. He relived the misery and moved through it to the other side.

The scar tissue of the past would forever remain unsightly and sensitive to the touch, but it made him who he was.

He wanted to be proud of the person he'd become.

Cloud studied Tifa as she blinked back the glittering moisture that rimmed her eyes. The admittance broke down the remaining obstruction between them, the recognition of a shared memory, a shared pain bringing them back to a common ground. He could see that she understood his why.

She understood him.

"Are you better for it? For doing that? For being away?" The inquiry was innocent. The anger was gone completely.

"Yeah, I am." he answered honestly. "I feel more like a person. Like, a whole person and not just a few slices of one. You know, like a pie."

Tifa lifted a brow at him, a slight grin flashing on her face despite the bit of sadness on her features. "So you're a whole pie now?"

"Right." He frowned suddenly, replaying the words over again and wishing he could take them back. "That sounded kind of stupid, huh?"

Tifa laughed, and the sound of it warmed him all over, even if a blush of embarrassment colored his cheeks. "It sounded just... peachy."

Her laughter continued, increasing in intensity. Contagious even, as Cloud found himself chuckling along with her.

For the first time in a long time, he felt real.

Two childish voices joined them in their amusement, a flurry of hushed giggles from around the corner.

"All right you two, come out here," Tifa commanded. Her laughter faded, but the smile lingered on.

Denzel and Marlene appeared sheepishly in the doorway, failing at their attempts to hide their grins of whimsy.

"You're just in time," Tifa said. "You get to help me make lunch." She turned to Cloud, "Why don't you put Fenrir away in the garage and rest. I'm sure you had a long ride."

A peace offering was presented with the suggestion.

Cloud would take it.

"Is there any room for it with that punching bag in the way?"

She grinned coyly, "I'm sure you'll figure something out."

"I'll open it for you!" Denzel announced, shooting off past them through the kitchen before a word of contention could be offered.

"We'll take care of you Cloud. You just relax," Marlene said with a wide smile.

He exchanged a look with Tifa as she drew her fingers through the girls' hair, smiling as well. They welcomed him home in this way. After such a long stint on his own, it was almost like nothing had changed.

Almost.

Cloud went out the front door and gently guided Fenrir into the free space within the garage, occupied by the hanging, beaten punching bag. Denzel laughed hard when it nearly jostled Cloud out of his seat, the weight of its abrupt swing from the motorbike's nudge sending it whirling.

The feat was overall successful, the bag leaning against Fenrir at a slant, unmoving.

Together, they pulled the garage door shut and flipped the latch to secure it.

"You didn't just leave for work, did you?" Denzel asked once they'd finished.

Cloud hesitated before answering. "No, I didn't. How much did you hear?"

Denzel's hands slipped into his pants pockets. "We only heard you talk about Cosmo Canyon." He looked regretful. "Sorry. We got curious. We shouldn't have been listening."

Scolding him for eavesdropping wasn't high on his agenda. At least they got a good laugh at his expense. He did worry that the weight of his journey would only further confuse him. "I'm not sure you'll understand."

"I won't tell Marlene—it can be our secret."

Cloud grinned, leaning his back against the closed garage door. Denzel mirrored him. "It's not really a secret. I'm just not sure you're old enough to get it."

Denzel frowned. "I've learned a lot while you've been gone. I've been the man of the house, so I've had to really look after Tifa and Marlene."

"That's good."

"I've been training too," he stated proudly. "I don't have a weapon yet to protect the house yet, but one day I'll get something like a sword, or an Electro-mag rod."

It was Cloud's turn to frown. "A what?"

"An Electro-mag rod. Like what Reno has. He let me hold it once. I almost electrocuted myself. He told me not to touch the button, but I wanted to see what it would do." He paused, eyes downcast as he dug his foot into the cement floor, "Don't tell Tifa. I said it was an accident. I don't lie usually, I just really wanted to know what it did."

The confession took him by surprise for many reasons, but the lie wasn't one of them. While curiosity still nipped at his heels, he let it go for now, having interrogated them enough for one day. "Your secret's safe with me."

Denzel smiled. "So, I'll understand whatever you tell me."

Cloud realized he had no hope in getting out of it. It was best to just speak as simply and plainly as possible. "I went away to fix myself."

He watched Denzel's face morph from tempered interest to a blanket of befuddlement. "I don't understand."

Cloud smirked. Tifa didn't either, but his tactics had to change when explaining the details to a boy less than half her age. "You know how we fought Sephiroth, saved the Planet, and all that other crazy stuff you've heard us talk about?"

"Yep."

"A lot of those things still really bothered me. So I left to go deal with them. As you get older, you carry more things that hurt you, and if you don't take care of those things when they happen, sometimes they get harder to fix. Sometimes you forget that they're there, that they're weighing you down until one day you wake up and you can't breathe because it's so heavy and everything hurts."

There was a vague hint of understanding in his face as well as a pinch of sympathy. "What did you do?"

Cloud rested his head against the door, eyes trailing up to the dark and dusty rafters. He'd have to clean those before he left again. "I faced them all, one by one. And it hurt more when I did that."

"Why would you do something that hurt you?" Denzel asked, clearly bemused.

"I didn't want to, but I had to. Sometimes you have to live through that pain and push through it. Once you've done that, you need to not only forgive yourself for letting that pain hurt you, but those who inflicted pain. Only then can you stand as a complete person without the darkness following you wherever you go."

Marlene's voice cut through their heart to heart. "Come inside! Lunch is almost ready."

The two of them shoved off of the door in unison.

"I get it," Denzel boldly stated. "You needed to get better in your head so you could be a better person for yourself and the family."

Cloud smiled, "Yeah, that's right."

Denzel's eyes fell as he fumbled with the hem of his shirt. "Are you leaving again?"

It was a conversation he wasn't quite prepared to have with him just yet. Inevitably, he would seek the open road again, and while he didn't anticipate his absence to be quite so extended, he knew the truth wasn't desirable for the kid no matter how it was presented. "Eventually, but not like before, and not for a while."

Denzel seemed to briefly ruminate over his answer before he smiled confidently, "It's okay, I'll look after things while you're gone."

The growing trepidation within Cloud's chest dissipated at the declaration. The foundation of their family remained solid despite the hole he left behind, the delicate pillars that held it together still intact despite the erosion. There was hope in filling the gaps between its members and settling into a new normal.

They started to walk toward the door, but Cloud's curiosity dangled and got the better of him. He absolved to satisfy it while they had privacy. "Denzel, wait." They stopped, and Denzel looked up at him in response. "Was Tifa happy before Reno left?"

Denzel suddenly looked older than he was as he answered. "They liked each other, Cloud. I know we're kids, but we notice things. We notice a lot of things."

It was difficult to look at him just then, at the wisdom of his expression and the understanding he held behind his large blue eyes. They had managed to underestimate the children's' intelligence and observational skills, and had the habit of trying to hide truths from them in which they inevitably uncovered on their own. It was easy to forget that this boy in particular lived a life many adults would never experience within their lifetime. While he still held onto his innocence, he was also capable of comprehending far more than he was given credit for.

"I know you do." He wasn't sure what else to say.

They shared a moment of silent understanding before Denzel rushed through the doorway and into the kitchen.

Cloud wasn't the only one that changed, and it would have been naive to believe everything else would have stayed the same in his absence. Between Shinra extending its tendrils of power into the city of Edge and a broken relationship that rocked the family into a slow dissension, he wasn't exactly sure if there was anything that could be done to mend it all other than to let time pass.

As he stood there beyond the kitchen of his home, deliberating over everything he had learned that day, he somehow knew it might be up to him to repair it after all.