The shattering of Meteor should have been humanity's greatest, undeniable victory. It wasn't. While the night beckoned a new dawn, a promise of humanity's continued existence, the day came with unforeseen consequences.

The young Turks' name was Alvis. What Alvis had first insisted must have been a hangover spontaneously caused hacking, wet coughs. Less than an hour later he collapsed, his body succumbing to seizures, and he spat up inky fluid.

Despite every effort of medical teams, Alvis of the Turks was the first recorded fatality.

As the morning drew on, Reeve received more reports from the refugee camps that some kind of infection was spreading and claiming victims distressingly fast. What members of the Science Division that hadn't disappeared after Cloud's assault on Shinra tower—and Hojo's death—had many a theory on what they were looking at, but certainly no answers. Tests were being done with the limited equipment available (that didn't need more than mako batteries to function) to determine if the black infection was bacterial, fungal, or some form of horrifically-fast-acting carcinogen.

While it would take time to confirm if it was actually connected, the working name of this alien condition was "Meteor Crash."

Reeve had wanted nothing more than to enjoy waking up to a new day, to revel in the thrill of facing Sephiroth and surviving—or at least to be grateful that Gaia had taken pity on humanity as a whole. Meteor Crash was a grim reminder that there would be no rest for those who hadn't abandoned Shinra, and the people who depended on Shinra. There was still too much left to do.

The door of the moving truck shut, and the crew waved to each other to signal it was ready to depart. With the last of the Sector 4 headquarters packed and being shipped out of the Midgar Basin, Reeve had some time to focus on a more personal crisis.

The call went to voicemail yet again and Reeve hung up. Letting out a haggard sigh, he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"No word from your mother?"

Reeve shook his head tiredly, meeting Veld's steel-eyed gaze. "It…It's probably just a connection issue. Maybe her phone is out of power…"

His lips tightened in concern. "I can take over on the ground for a while. Why don't you oversee the recovery efforts in Sector 5?"

"Don't you…still have…Are they handling it well?" Reeve said, fumbling over his thoughts.

Glancing away, Veld let out a long breath. "They're young, but they're Turks. They'll mourn when there's time."

"I'm so sorry."

"I'll mourn when there's time," Veld added gently. "Even if Alvis didn't fall on mission, we all accept that any of us could die at any time. We can only continue our own work."

Uncomfortably, Reeve tapped his phone in his palm. "I…I don't think I have that kind of resolve in me."

"You do," Veld insisted with a weary smile. "Why don't you see what's in Sector 5?"

Reeve didn't really want to, but he accepted maybe it was the only way to know for sure. If nothing else, seeing his mother's home would give him some hint of if she had evacuated or remained as stubborn as usual. "…Thank you."

Veld whistled sharply, waving over one of his subordinates. Veld gave a short nod to Reeve, passing along what stoicism he could, then turned away to other tasks. As the young, blonde woman approached, a smile came to Reeve, surprised to see this familiar face.

"Elena, you cam—Wait," Reeve said quickly—noticing the slightly different cut of her hair, blue eyes rather than brown, and the several inches of height less this woman had than Elena. "I'm so sorry. What was your name again?"

She smirked at him in amusement. "Emma."

"Emma," Reeve affirmed with a nod. "I'm so sorry, you two look so much alike. Have you managed to reach her yet?"

Her smile widened and her face softened. "No. Who knows where Tseng's team went? But no matter how hard she tries to hide, I'll find my sister eventually. She's gonna make some airheaded mistake sooner or later."

The fact the Turk's collective loss didn't show on Emma's face was impressive. Chuckling, Reeve smiled back. While Emma's words were cutting, the tone of voice was nothing but affectionate. Sometimes he wondered what not being an only child would have been like. "Would you…Would you escort me to the Sector 5 plate?"

"Of course, Senior Director."

The condition of Sector 5's plate was unsurprising, but it was the first time Reeve had seen any of the devastation in person. Few buildings stood at all, and crews struggled to sift through the crumbled homes and businesses with limited tools. They needed better than what they had, but Reeve had to face the reality of a world that had no choice but to reject mako use. Efficiency would have to be sacrificed—perhaps for a very long time to come. Despite how much mako had cost the world, would the people be willing to let it go for even the short term?

Reeve's brow grew hard as he lost himself in thought. Shinra storage facilities worldwide were full of hardware from before the mako era. How quickly could he coordinate efforts to pull it out and get that equipment running? How much manpower could he devote when evacuation and salvage efforts were so much more immediately needed in Midgar? Maybe bring in people from outside Midgar? Then there was the question of powering any of it—any non-mako power refinement had nearly come to a complete halt in the last decade. Rocket Town had the largest concentration of alternate power sources, the city had been largely self-sufficient from the time it was built. If Reeve spoke to the engineers—

"Director!"

Reeve started, his head spinning on Emma in shock. "Yes?!"

"We've been stopped for nearly five minutes," Emma said cautiously. "When you get lost in thought, you really get lost there, don't you?"

Blushing, Reeve cleared his throat awkwardly. "I have uh, a lot to think about."

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure you do. Come on."

Reeve was not eager to step out of the chopper, but he did. Instantly, his heart grew heavy as he soaked in the sight of the residential street. Collapsed homes lined each side of the road, he shook his head in dismay as he searched for landmarks. So little of what he remembered remained. An errant street sign, some vaguely recognizable house paint…

Emma jogged to several abandoned cars parked next to the sidewalk and studied them. "Looks like refugees already went through here," she said loudly enough to reach him. "The tanks are drained. Probably anyone capable of being rescued already was earlier. But teams are supposed to be getting to this sector within the hour, sir."

Reeve didn't reply. He came to a halt in front of a demolished home, staring at the intact number plate lying on the curb. His hands in his pockets, he wordlessly took in the splintered wood, the way the second floor had fallen into the first, the crushed furniture strewn about the fake, dust-covered lawn…Barely anything remained of his mother's house.

Reeve vividly remembered the day he had walked both his parents to the sidewalk, enthusiastically showing off what his newly-gained position on the executive board had afforded him. They didn't have to stay in Kalm, they could be right next to him and take advantage of the standard of living Midgar allowed. They had been so proud, his mother had openly cried while his ailing father had congratulated him…It was one of the last good memories he'd had with his father. All of those memories were now buried under destruction.

Gradually, Reeve moved forward, cautiously stepping around debris and layers of dust. He eased himself through the skeleton of the front door, and coughed as his presence kicked up particles. Emma silently eased beside him, solemnly awaiting some signal from him.

"…There's not much left," Reeve murmured, afraid to bring his voice high enough to disturb the silence.

Emma patted his shoulder and walked past him, her icy-blue eyes scanning what was likely once the kitchen. "If anyone is here, can you hear us?" she called out loudly, startling Reeve. She continued calling as she began peering through heavier tangles of beams and siding.

Reeve would leave the more formal duties to her. He busied himself with drowning in bittersweet nostalgia. His mother had made those curtains herself, they were in tatters and stained…Every last photo had been knocked down and the glass shattered. His grandfather's piano had been crushed when the second floor collapsed…He could almost picture the aging man with white hair seated at the keys, playing with his long, gnarled fingers…

Reeve paused. The sofa was in one piece, but dark stains covered it, sending a shiver down his spine. Blackened smears, dried, but not old…

"Sir!" came from the direction of the back yard. "This way. You'll want to see this."

No, he really didn't.

"Coming." Every step was like through tar, his limbs rebelling against him taking the path to the backyard. As he ducked under a fallen beam, he noted Emma standing next to an area of the plot. Debris had been moved aside, and a marker sat in the ground above freshly-dug earth. Emma's face was soft as he approached. She turned her eyes down and held her hands in front of herself respectfully.

Reeve brought himself to a stop in front of the marker. It had been formed from scrap metal, and letters scraped into it with some tool clearly not meant for the task. With eyes that regarded it from a million miles away Reeve read the scrawling letters forming, "Ruby Tuesti, Wife, Mother, Friend."

He reached a hand to touch the marker, but paused, noticing how precarious it likely was. Chunks of concrete had just been piled around it to hold up the plate. A firm enough push would knock it over. However, it would have taken a strong hand to carve out the writing or move rubble…who made it?

Emma gently cleared her throat. "Sir?"

In a daze, Reeve eased both of his hands in his pockets. "Hm?"

"It…There's no guarantee she's here," Emma offered gently. "Once salvage teams get to this sector, we can have this dug—"

"No!"

Emma's mouth immediately closed and she bit her lip.

Reeve rested a hand over his eyes and steadied his breath, having startled himself at his extreme reaction as well. "No. No, there's…There's no need. She's here. It's her," he whispered hoarsely. "It's her…I just—I just know."

He flinched as a soothing hand patted his arm. Emma looked at him, her lips forming a thin line. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tuesti."

Silently, Reeve nodded and lowered his gaze back at the grave.

Emma stepped back from him. "Sir, I can make some calls for a bit. Take the time you need."

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "We should probably…"

"Please, take some time, sir."

Numbly, he nodded. All around him fell still. Reeve wasn't sure how far away he was this time, but nothing felt concrete. He didn't hear Emma walk away, he was unaware of how long he stared at the packed earth, he didn't feel himself walk up the precarious dregs of the stairs to sit at the edge of the second floor hall, but he was suddenly there. He dully sat at the demolished floor's edge, his legs dangling over the living room and staring down at the black-stained sofa.

Reeve dragged his face back up to move his attention to the view of his dead city. The ravaged Shinra tower loomed in the distance, empty and dark, and the spine of the silent and cavernous train rails spiraled to the undercity below.

Midgar wasn't meant to survive without mako. Reeve supposed the only thing to be done was salvage as much as possible from Midgar and move the entire city out. Maybe closer to the edge of where life thrived. It would likely be easy to convince the plate denizens, the undercity folk would be a greater task. They had stayed in Midgar when there certainly hadn't been a good reason, would they agree to abandon it?

What else needed to be done? The refugee camps didn't have enough supplies. Water, food, power…Would any of the surrounding city states be willing to cooperate with Midgar's relocation efforts when Midgar had made its reputation as a purely corporate entity? Would they only negotiate if an uninterrupted distribution of mako continued? Mako allotment had to focus on keeping emergency services and medical research operational—and very little else. Humanity shouldn't be using mako at all, but how quickly could an entire world's power structure really be changed?

Thinking of medical teams…The black stains on the sofa came back to him. His mother had been taken by Meteor Crash. It had to be. The disease wasn't a peaceful death. The whimpers and wails from the victims, the hacking, sopping coughs, the spasms and seizures, the rapid decay of the bodies…

And where was Denzel? Only someone much stronger than an eight-year old could have buried Reeve's mother, or made the marker. Emma had mentioned the likelihood of scavenger caravans…

The shattering of Meteor should have been humanity's greatest, undeniable victory. There was no victory Reeve Tuesti had that didn't come without cost.

It was so hard to concentrate on any one thought. Had Reeve's phone been ringing? What was that sound?

"Can you hear me?"

Reeve gasped and he spun to face the voice that had been calling his name. At the bottom of the stairs a young man stared up at him, a face that Reeve had seen over and over again and yet never met over more than visions. The man awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, rustling the many, blonde spikes, and his mako-altered eyes shifted to the floor. "Uh…" the young man mumbled, idly stretching out the shoulder covered by a SOLDIER uniform's paldron. "Are you…Are you Reeve Tuesti? I mean, the Turk outside said you'd be in here…and you look like the footage…"

"Cloud…" Reeve whispered, stunned. "It's you."

Cloud started to lean a hand against the stairs' railing, but immediately withdrew his hand when it shifted. Recollecting himself, he took tentative steps forward. "Yeah…Yeah, it is you…"

Easing himself to his feet by degrees, Reeve met him at the top of the stairs. "You're…not as tall as I thought you were."

Cloud chuckled and shrugged. "And I honestly expected to hear Cait's voice out of you. I mean, I know I've heard your voice before, but…"

Reeve shrugged back. "I know."

A long silence passed, Cloud glancing away and wrestling with some thought he couldn't put into words.

"I wish circumstances could have been better," Reeve said in a low voice for him.

A soft sigh made Cloud's shoulders rise and fall. "Yeah. She, uh, the Turk told us what happened."

"Emma."

"What?"

"Her name is Emma."

"O-Oh. Sure."

"Us?" Reeve repeated.

Cloud titled his head slightly. "Huh?"

"You said 'us.'"

A sad smile on his face, Cloud nodded. "Sure. All of us. Cait hadn't come out of sleep mode since last night…We…We got worried. Midgar's a mess, there's some kind of disease…"

Reeve had forgotten to check in all day. Wearily, he rubbed his face. "Oh. I'm so sorry. I—I lost track of time."

"You're…sorry?"

"I made you come all this way."

"Why wouldn't we have?"

"I mean…"

Cloud took several steps down and gestured toward the front of the house. "Come meet them."

"Pardon?"

"You want to, right?" Cloud asked, his eyes swiveling to the floor uncomfortably.

His mind in a fog, Reeve blinked and cleared his throat. "Is that why you're here?"

In frustration, Cloud's eyes briefly grew larger and he grit his teeth. "Goddammit, Cai—Reeve. Reeve," he corrected himself with a sharp chop of his hand. "You just found out your mom died and your friends are here to help. Could you please just come out and see them?"

"Oh." Struck, the moment began to settle back in Reeve's mind and his eyebrows raised. "Oh!"

"'Oh'?" Cloud repeated in bewilderment.

"Right." Reeve eased past Cloud down the stairs, mechanically focused on the new task that he had been offered, but his dress shoes slipped on the precarious steps. He half-yelped as the floor jolted closer for an instant.

Cloud caught the back of his collar, and helped steady Reeve at the base of the steps. "Hey, easy…easy."

Sinking onto the step, Reeve felt his expression twisting in distress. "I…I don't know if I can." Losing his footing had been the last his composure could take. Of all the absolutely ridiculous things to break him. Tripping on the stairs? Really? Reeve leaned his head in his hands as his shoulders shook. "Not…Not now…Not like this…"

"Hey…" Cloud slid beside him on the floor. "I'm sorry. Things should've been better than this. I know. Things were supposed to be…Well, it was supposed to feel better than this to save the world, right?"

"I can't," Reeve groaned, tears welling in his eyes. "None of you even know me. You've known…nothing but…some other face I put on for you all."

Silence passed. "…Are you screwing with me right now?"

Taking shaky breaths, Reeve shifted his watery eyes toward Cloud.

Cloud grimaced and gestured to himself meaningfully. "Do you…remember who you're talking to?"

A strained laugh tumbling from him, Reeve half-smiled. "The master of his own illusionary world."

"More than that…there's something else. Did you forget?"

Rubbing his face again, pushing aside moisture with his hands, Reeve shrugged and he took deep breaths. "Forget…what?"

"You're surrounded by orphans, Reeve." This had been a new voice, feminine and gentle.

Reeve raised his head, and his jaw went slack to see all of his renegade companions in the remains of his family's home. The four-legged warrior with red fur and a flickering tail, the young ninja with a broad smile and a bob cut, the willowy figure in black and red lingering near the shadows, the captain in a well-worn flight jacket leaning against a spear, the towering, broad-shouldered revolutionary with a replacement arm, the young woman in sporty gear who gleamed at Reeve genuinely.

"All of us," Tifa reminded him.

"I am grateful all of you are with me," Nanaki began in a gentle voice. "I finally am mourning Se—m-my father…and Grandfather. I don't know how I would have managed without you all."

Yuffie sighed heavily and sat on a pile of rubble, propping her jaw on her palm. "I don't remember my mom. But I remember what it was like without her. And what it did to my dad. So, I get it, I guess."

Lighting a cigarette, a distant, weary smile came to Cid. "I lost my old man a while ago. But…he only got to see me screwin' up my chance at space. Knowin' I can't tell him I finally made it there…" He raised his eyebrows once and glumly shook his head. "Shit, it brings it all back."

Vincent glanced away. "…Even if any of my family is alive, the man they knew is dead. I can't possibly return after so many years."

Patting Vincent's shoulder, Barret shook his head. "Think about it, at least. Hell, I'd do anything to have my grandparents back…no matter how long it's been. Thank goodness it wasn't Shinra that took 'em. I woulda never come back from the kinda hell I woulda made for myself."

Idly, Cloud tapped his heel of his combat boots on the floorboards. "Five years of my life is missing…so…losing Mom feels…fresh. Raw. Like it happened less than a year ago."

"Oh, Cloud…That's right," Tifa said sadly, moving aside strands of Cloud's blonde spines from his forehead. "I'm so sorry. It was the smoke, right? Sephiroth didn't…?"

Cloud closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his mouth forming a thin line. "…No, he did."

"Yeah…" Tifa whispered bitterly. "Like Dad." She wearily sat next to Cloud, leaning her head against his shoulder, then added a tired grin to Reeve. "I wish I could say it gets better quickly, Reeve. But I lost Mom when I was eight…it still hurts. And Dad…I really don't think that's ever going to be better."

"I had so many images in my head about how this meeting was supposed to go," Reeve said dryly. His eyes had locked on a particularly noticeable scuff mark on his shoe, and he couldn't look away from it. "Not like this…"

"There have been a million days I would've liked to meet everybody here than when you did," Cid chuckled with a heavy roll of his eyes. "But sometimes ya meet somebody on a day when yer at your worst and yer screamin' at them to shut up and drink tea—tea I didn't even make you myself!" he groaned, rubbing his face self-consciously. "Goddamn, it still makes me sick to my stomach to think about."

Vincent grinned. "Was that better or worse than complaining to go back to sleep?"

"Oh, shut up!" Yuffie cackled, leaning forward against her knees. "At least these jerks bothered to ask you your names. They said for me to tag along and then made me scream after them! 'Oh, don't worry about me. I'm just gonna be your best friend, don't bother asking anything about me, I guess! I'll just shout small talk at you from twenty feet away, okay?'"

Cloud shook his head and held up a hand, smiling largely. "No, no, no. You don't get to say that. You made it clear you were ready to run off if we looked at you the wrong way."

"I was a delicate flower all alone in the cruel wilderness," she scoffed, placing her hands on her chest in mock dismay. "How could I possibly have trusted you weirdos instantly?"

Tifa's shoulders shook from giggles. "And you followed us anyway?"

"You had cool materia."

Laughter followed, and Reeve felt himself joining in. "Oh, if we're tellin' these stories, did Cloud and Aerith tell ye how Aye muscled my way in? Bloody master of deception, Aye was. The Turks told me it'd never work, but they didn't count on ye bein' a buncha roasters. How did it take all of ye wee bawbags so long to see through that utter shite?"

The laughter in the room intensified tenfold. Several of the group pointed at Reeve as their faces lit up in excitement. At their reactions, Reeve started and gaped at them in bewilderment.

"There he is!" Yuffie squealed happily. "I don't believe it!"

Vincent allowed a very rare, genuine smile, letting out the softest of snickers. "You mean that accent wasn't a fabrication?"

"Cait Sith don't have a mouth on him, though," Barret said through booming laughs. "I don't know what the hell you just called me, but I take offense—whatever it was."

His face hot, Reeve straightened his collar sheepishly. "Excuse me. Got carried away. I don't usually…"

"Get carried away!" Tifa insisted, her face bright. "Whenever you want, please."

"The second I can, I am getting you trashed," Cid announced. "Highland folk are the best assholes to get drunk with."

"Like you could keep pace, Highwind," Reeve said with a grin.

"That is a challenge, and I win either way."

A thought occurred to Reeve, and he held up a hand. "Wait, wait. Before I forget…Shera wanted me to ask what you said to her."

Abruptly, Cid's face turned a violent shade of crimson and he plucked his cigarette from his mouth. He rolled it between his fingers, fidgeting his shoulders as he searched for words. "Well, shit…Now? I hadn't planned to announce anythin' yet. I mean, I didn't even have a ring or anything…" He grinned shyly.

"Did you ask her to marry you?!" both Tifa and Yuffie shrieked simultaneously, causing everyone else to spin on them.

"Yes?!" Cid barked back in a knee-jerk reaction. "Holy shit, gimme a heart attack!"

Glowing enthusiasm and jubilant celebration overtook the group instantly, everyone jumping their feet to offer their congratulations. As levity and eager conversation passed through the husk of a living room, Reeve glanced between his companions. For the first time he was seeing these colorful outcasts with his own eyes, hearing their voices, being a part of their overwhelming energy. There were so many facets of them he had never seen before: how the beads in Nanaki's mane had a lyrical chime to them as they rattled, the way Yuffie's eyes all but vanished into her cheeks when her smile widened, the way direct light brought a coppery tint to Tifa's dark-brown hair, the surprisingly pleasant, spiced scent of Cid's cigarettes, the varied nuances of red in Vincent's eyes as they moved, how Barret's grin shone against his richly-toned skin, and the subtle shyness in Cloud's melodic voice. None of the tiny details had come through Cait Sith, not even when Reeve exclusively used his knack. Reeve had spent so much time looking through someone else's eyes, filtering experiences and missing the little things.

But now Reeve was there. He was present. His friends had sought him out, and they welcomed him in their reality. He was grateful to Cait Sith for this chance, and certainly Cait would never be retired for good, but there was no comparing the sensation of being Reeve Tuesti in this moment. For everything Reeve had to dread, for every loss and every approaching challenge, he could look forward to this. They would be there. He wouldn't have to seek companionship with distant dreams and readouts. He would see with his own eyes.

The knock on the door immediately broke Marlene's pouting. She leapt from the floor, knocking crayons into the air as she scrambled to the door.

Elmyra nearly stopped her out of habit, but managed to collect herself instantly. There was nothing on the other side of that door to fear. They were finally safe. Elmyra smiled to herself in contentment.

As Marlene threw open the front door, a cheerful cry of delight met her. "Marlene!" Tifa said, flinging her arms around Marlene and immediately sweeping her off the ground. "Look at you, how are you so big?!"

"Daddy said that," Marlene giggled, clinging to Tifa tightly.

Snickering, Tifa shook her head. "Oh, oh, okay. Only Daddy is allowed to notice you're bigger. Okay."

"Ms. Gainsborough," Barret greeted as he stepped in. "Thank you for agreeing to this, but I don't…think it was clear just how many people would be here tonight."

As a small, garish army filed into the parlor, Elmyra's smile faded awkwardly. "Oh. Oh, no, you didn't make it clear at all."

A young Wutaian girl immediately propped herself on the back of the loveseat instead of in it, like a coiled spring ready to snap at any moment. The tall, slender woman in a crimson, tattered cape was a bit distressing—wait, no, that was a man. A man carrying a very, very large gun in a holster around Marlene. And was that a cat? They were just bringing that giant animal in the house? Why was its tail on fire? Would that burn anything?

Marlene let out a fearful shriek at the sight of the lupine cat, burying her face into Tifa's shoulder. As Marlene began weeping, Tifa's face went pale and she gaped at the beast. "Oh—No, no, no, Marlene, that's Nanaki! He's our friend. He's not going to hurt you." She added in a harsh whisper, "I'm so sorry, Nanaki. Don't take it personally."

Elmyra started when the beasts' mouth opened, and in a well-spoken young man's voice he wearily sighed, "It's fine. I'm used to it."

Nanaki…Elmyra recognized the name now, and recognized where the beaded hairpin Marlene had received must have come from. Sinking on the couch in shock, Elmyra mumbled, "Oh. Oh, he talks…"

"I don't think so," Barret said sternly, taking Marlene from Tifa. "That is not how we act. You apologize to Nanaki right now, Marlene."

Sobbing louder, Marlene shook her head wildly.

Awkwardly, Nanaki began to slink to a further corner of the house. "It's quite alright. Human children act that way."

"Marlene!" Barret pressed. "He has feelings just like you and you're hurting them cuz you don't know how to act. Didn't you just hear him talk to you? Hm?"

Her blubbering subsiding, Marlene dragged her gaze back to Nanaki. "Muh…?"

Clearly uncomfortable, Nanaki raised his good eye toward her. "Hello, Marlene. I've…heard a lot about you," he said in a silken, rumbling tone. "I'm sorry your gift probably doesn't fit yet. I have a hard time gauging the sizes of human children by age alone."

Wiping her eyes, Marlene sniffed sloppily. Barret eased her into the crook of his right arm to use his hand to clean her face. "Go say you're sorry."

Barret set her down, and very cautiously Marlene approached Nanaki, sniffing heavily. With very subtle movements, Nanaki lowered his head closer to the floor, allowing her to rest her hands on his mane. "N…Nuh-nah-kee?" she mumbled, stroking her fingers through the soft strands.

"You don't just touch without asking, Marlene!" Barret huffed in frustration. "I raised her better than this, I promise."

"It's fine," Nananki assured him.

Something finally clicking in Marlene's head, she quickly withdrew her hands and whipped them behind her back. "I'm sorry! You're a person. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, sir."

A motion like a smile turned Nanaki's snout. "I am not…but thank you. You're very polite, Marlene."

"Can…Can I pet you, Mr. Nanaki?"

While Tifa laughed softly, Barret let out a ragged sigh and waved a hand dismissively.

Nanaki nodded gently. "You may," he said.

Marlene hesitantly pet the reddish fur, a smile growing across her face. She then leaned fully against Nanaki, both arms around him, nearly pushing him off-balance. Nanaki chuckled and adjusted himself. Marlene's head then rose and her gaze met with Vincent's piercing, red eyes. She sank further into Nanaki and let out a long whine into his fur as she buried her face in him completely—fearful whimpering starting anew.

Rubbing his face wearily, Barret heaved out an aggravated breath. "Marlene, what are ya doin' to me? You're puttin' me in an early grave, child."

Another knock at the door signaled yet another arrival. Elmyra supposed that was Reeve. "Tifa, would you get that?"

Tifa opened it to allow Captain Cid Highwind to stroll into the house. Despite knowing the Highwind had parked outside Kalm, Elmyra hadn't honestly thought she would have its captain in her parlor.

Cid glanced around and paused, then quickly backstepped to thoroughly wipe his boots on the doormat before reentering. "Evening, ma'am. You must be Mrs. Gainsborough."

"Captain Highwind," she said with an affirming nod. "Goodness, you look just like you did on the posters…"

Grinning, Cid offered a gloved hand. "I got nuthin' but good sides and they got 'em right, what can I say?"

Elmyra laughed lightly. And he was every bit as charming as she'd imagined. "Is…Is Mr. Tuesti not coming?" Elmyra asked, accepting the handshake he offered her.

"He is," Cid said with a shrug. "He's just got things he's got to take care of before he can get away. Bein' all that's left of Shinra leadership means wherever he stops officials will wanna talk first. He should be here soon."

Elmyra's smile faded. "Hasn't earned the rest then yet, has he?"

"None of us," Cid chuckled. "That's just life." He then turned and moved to where Nanaki layed curled up in the middle of the floor, Marlene draped over him. "And you must be Marlene. Well, lookit you!"

She smiled up at him brightly. "Hello, sir."

"Captain," he insisted, kneeling next to her. He then half-smiled up at Barret. "Takes after Mom then…?"

In an instant, Barret's brow hardened and he glowered at Cid.

"Cid!" Vincent hissed.

Yuffie groaned loudly, flinging her palms in his direction. "Are you serious, Cid?"

"Shit!" Cid blurted, slapping a hand to his forehead. "I forgot. You told me and I forgot like a goddamn idiot. Shit on me!"

"Stop cussin' in front of her face. Y'all are really tryin' me tonight," Barret grumbled, rolling his eyes largely while Marlene cackled with glee.

As the others playfully poked at each other, Cloud paused in front of Elmyra. "Hey."

She looked up at him, marveling at how much Cloud had changed. It was difficult to pin down, but she recalled him reminding her so much of Zack when they first met—just infinitely more dour…Somehow all of that had vanished, and the young man in a SOLDIER uniform in front of her now was unique. Singularly Cloud. His posture, the manner with which his vibrantly-blue eyes shifted idly…it was hard to say. Maybe Aerith had seen the difference sooner too…Elmyra just hoped Aerith hadn't wasted all her time chasing ghosts.

"Yes, Cloud?"

He glanced at the others, then motioned for Elmyra to step aside with him.

Feeling what was coming, Elmyra half-smiled and joined him by the stairs. "What is it, dear?"

"Reeve…told us that he told you what happened."

Nodding wearily, she folded her arms across her chest. "Yes. He was here the morning after."

"That's…Wow, that was sooner than I expected," Cloud mumbled, looking away. "I just wanted to say how sorry I am. I'm sorry."

"I know," Elmyra said in a low voice, patting his right shoulder. "Just to be clear, I don't blame any of you. I did for a while, but I know better than that. There was no one who could force her to do something she didn't want to do. I don't blame you. Okay?"

Cloud's face softened, and distantly he sighed. "I…She mattered a lot to me. To all of us."

"She had that way of prying herself into everyone's lives, didn't she?"

A knowing smirk tugged at Cloud's lips. "She did. There was no way for her to not…affect people."

To Cloud's surprise, Elmyra hugged him gently. "All of you mattered to her too."

Stunned by her gesture, Cloud cleared his throat as they parted. "Uh…yeah. Just…Just I feel like it shouldn't have had to have been Reeve to tell you. It almost doesn't feel fair."

"Things were less than ideal."

Raising his eyebrows once, Cloud smirked. "Yeah…You could say that. So, before he gets here, I feel like I should return the favor." His gentle face grew solemn and he bit his lip once before continuing. "Something just happened to him earlier today he probably won't want to say out loud but…but it'll help if you know, okay?"

Her expression tightened, and she gestured for him to go on. "What happened?"

Cloud took a deep breath, then firmly locked his gaze with hers.

It was several hours later when Reeve finally arrived at the house, finding Cid sitting on the stoop and enjoying a cigarette.

"She wouldn't let you smoke inside?" Reeve asked with a grin.

"I'm not a goddamn heathen," Cid grunted. "What, no honor guard, Mr. Senior Director?"

Reeve smirked at Cid. "I don't need security breathing down my neck at my own house. All of you are more effective anyway."

"There is also not enough room for all of us to crash," Cid informed him.

"I tried to tell you all."

"Eh," he said with a shrug. "I got the Highwind."

"Of course."

Taking a deep drag, Cid waved him on. "Well, go on, then. Door's unlocked."

Reeve eased himself through the door, greeted by the group packing the parlor. While there was little time left, exhaustion clear on all their faces, Reeve got to spend the last of the evening with all of them.

Then came the almost military-level strategy necessary to divy up sleeping spaces. Vincent ultimately agreed to join Cid back on the Highwind, Barret would be on the floor next to Marlene's bed, Nanaki was fine on the rug in the parlor, Tifa and Cloud would share the largest bedroom, and Elmyra would take the smaller bedroom across from Marlene's. Reeve volunteered himself for the sofa in the living room, and by pushing chairs against the loveseat it was big enough for Yuffie's gangly legs.

As lights shut off through the house one by one, Reeve and Elmyra found themselves the last to turn in. They sat at the kitchen table, cups of herbal tea in front of them and a single lamp illuminating the space. The porch doors were open on this mild night, shedding that end of the room in silvery moonlight.

Elmyra rested her chin against her palm, gazing at the starlit, mundane sky. "I had started to get used to that damn thing being there."

"It was so much worse in Midgar," Reeve said tiredly. "I don't know if you could hear it from here, but it made a noise."

"It did?"

"It let out this hum, for one. A never-ending base. Then there was like, a…crackling. Not like fire, though. A log fire is soothing, this was…I can't even describe it," he sighed. "Wait, that's what it was. Like stepping on bugs. Just a crunching, crackling, popping sound…"

Elmyra's lip curled. "Are you serious?"

"There was nothing natural about it, so it didn't even sound natural."

"I cannot believe how grateful I am that you got us out of there," Elmyra mumbled, shuddering once. "Did I ever thank you?"

Reeve smiled. "Often."

"Well, thank you again."

"I…wasn't exactly doing you a favor."

Mirthlessly, Elmyra turned to look at him with a lowered eyebrow. "Reeve. You can claim an awful lot of things, but you can't even remotely claim that. Of course you were. I might not be as clever as you or your friends, but I'm not an idiot."

He held up a hand quickly. "I never said that!"

She nodded. "No, no you've never suggested that. I…"

"Well…" Yawning deeply, Reeve rubbed his face. "Another couch awaits. I probably should stop doing this to myself."

"Wait," Elmyra said quickly, resting her hand on his before he could lift it from his cup.

Reeve paused and lowered an eyebrow at her. "Yes?"

Clearing her throat gently, she firmly placed her other hand on his and held it tightly. "Meteor has changed everything."

"I know." Reeve shrugged slightly. "I didn't ask for the position I'm in…But I can't walk away now."

Swallowing once, Elmyra squeezed his hand. "Cloud…told me," she whispered. "I'm so sorry about Ruby."

Reeve's face visibly fell and he stared into his empty teacup. "Oh. Uh. Yes."

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Reeve. She was such a wonderful lady."

Clearing his throat, Reeve's eyes grew exponentially more haggard. "I don't think it's…really sunk in yet. I don't know how I feel."

"That's more normal than you think. And it gets worse."

Raising his eyebrows and grimacing, Reeve looked back to her. "That's…not reassuring."

"It's not," she agreed, patting his hand. "But it's fair warning."

"…That is fair." He slid his hand from her, sinking further into his chair. "It's not as though I don't remember what my father passing away was like, but it was different. It wasn't so sudden. We had a lot of time to get comfortable with the idea." Anxiously, he tugged at his collar. "No, 'comfortable' is the wrong word…"

"I know what you meant," she assured him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Reeve pulled himself up. "Thank you. You've done so much…"

She smiled up at him. "I don't think it's been nearly enough. You realize what this means, don't you?"

Reeve shrugged as Elmyra stood and cleaned off the table. "No?"

"You're all my kids now," she informed him as she rinsed off the cups casually.

A surprised chuckle falling out of him, Reeve followed her to the sink. "I beg your pardon?"

"From what I hear," she continued, drying off the cups and saucers with a flowered dish towel, "the lot of you have maybe one mother between you. So, it looks like I'm now your mom, and I'm not hearing any arguments about it."

"You're…maybe twelve years older than me."

"And you look like the kind of grown man who still has to be told to eat vegetables."

Blinking, Reeve scoffed. "I…eat vegetables."

"Lettuce on burgers doesn't count."

"Stir fry counts."

"Not if it's greasy takeout, it doesn't."

He opened his mouth to speak, then gradually closed it with a half-smile. "I don't appreciate being called out like this."

"And how many nights have you been sleeping on couches?" she asked with a knowing grin.

"Uh…I've…lost count recently."

"Tonight you're taking a bed. I can handle a sofa once in a while."

"Elmyra, I volunteered…"

"And I'm un-volunteering you," Elmyra said firmly. "Goodness, she was right. All of you are a mess," she said with a deep yawn as she walked to the stairs. "If anything, she understated this trainwreck."

"Wait…" Reeve urged her to continue. "Who said?"

Elmyra paused at the door frame, smiling over her shoulder at him. "You know who I mean, don't be silly. Goodnight, Reeve," she said gently, turning away.

As silence fell over the kitchen, Reeve turned off the lamp. His way shown by a starry, moonlit night, Reeve took quiet steps to the porch, and leaned against the railing.

That coy grin on Elmyra had reminded Reeve of Aerith, to the point where it was hard to imagine she and Elmyra weren't actually related by blood. But there was something about family that didn't need blood, wasn't there? This house was home, and not only because it had belonged to the Tuestis. It was the ship resting at the outskirts of Kalm, and it was the bizarre mishmash of friends packed in too-few beds inside. It was the quiet of a night that belied the uncertainty of the days to come, and the moonlight falling on flowers transplanted from a city that would have drained them of life.

Transplanted just like those inside the house. Reeve closed the porch doors and made his way to a bed.

The End

To be Continued in Days of Advent

Since this is the last chapter of this leg of the story, I wanted to put some notes at the very end here. Thank you for joining me on this journey, Through Another's Eyes has been something I had wanted to write since the late 90's, but had never had the drive to complete. I hope that even those who aren't as die-hard Reeve fans as myself can still enjoy this story.

Chapter 14 is dedicated to every player who sat in front of a star field and waited for a better resolution. This is the kind of end I would have wanted for the original game. Of course, it also keeps in mind a nod to On the Way to a Smile: Denzel. Doing my research for this story, the second I came upon Ruvie's death, I knew exactly what had to happen, and that this very strange group bonding over it was the most logical conclusion.

Those around Migar assuming the first outbreak of Geostigma had something to do with Meteor made sense to me, so until they know otherwise Meteor Crash is their working title. Marlene not taking well to some of her father's friends at first was one of my favorite interactions to write. I used to work at theme parks, and I'd see young kids having extreme reactions to things all the time. The way Barret talks while having none of it this time is taken from the various parents I've known. There is a certain tone some parents take when they refuse to accept their kid's outbursts.

The feeling of more to do that comes with this chapter is certainly not accidental. I am planning to continue this story, and my drive to write fanfic in 2020 is more for what comes after Through Another's Eyes than this leg of the story itself. Regardless of if you agree with me, I see my home country of America as a clearly failing democracy, and stepping into Gaia has been much-needed catharsis. The story that will follow is the more difficult part of a story, one that is often glossed over, and the one I want to write the most: rebuilding and redefining what society means.

Gaia must come to terms with a world that must move past mako, and honestly does not need even a reformed Shinra. I am not very forgiving of oligarchies, and much of SquareEnix's hand-waving of Shinra's crimes against humanity is not satisfactory to me. I do hope you'll join me and this version of Gaia as I present what I believe is truly necessary for a world like this to heal. Cloud and his team beyond Reeve will have a much bigger role, though as the founder of the WRO I still plan to heavily lean on Reeve's work post-Meteor.

That been said, this last chapter was posted on August 25, 2020, and I'm taking a short break from regular posting while I gather some thoughts and focus on some drawing. Follow me and you'll be notified when I start posting the next leg of the story, Days of Advent. In the meantime, I will be posting a one-shot, and any of my fics can be considered in the Days of Advent AU unless I state otherwise. Feel free to read those while you wait.

I also make the earnest plea for those of you who have enjoyed my work to do me a very sincere favor: share Through Another's Eyes or any of my other works. It costs nothing to share, and I freely admit the support would mean the world to be and give me the encouragement I'll need during my break. Seeing that others are actually enjoying what I do helps keep me going.

Hear from you all soon, and thank you again!
_

Those of you who have reviewed my work, you are all appreciated! I do respond to them, but only on my forum. I won't respond to comments or reviews in the documents. _

Please leave a review, or if you'd like to join a conversation post on my forum.