Splintered Dreams

"Kalm Before the Storm"

Chapter 19

By the time the group reached the outskirts of Kalm Tifa wanted nothing more in life than a hot bath and a stiff drink. The relief she felt at seeing small puffs of chimney smoke rising over the hill was nearly staggering. Her feet—apparently encased in lead shoes—felt like they were about to fall off with each step.

The long walk through quiet plains had left her plenty time to think, and for Tifa, that wasn't always a good thing. She had tried to keep her thoughts on the task of keeping one foot steadily in front of the other and nothing else, but the plan failed miserably as memories of tortured screams and black ashes filtered through and left her breathless and burning.

Was he really alive?

What was he after?

Would they be able to even find him?

A giggle, light as the air it floated on, reached her ears, and pulled her attention up from the laces of her boots to the couple ahead of her. Ever since they'd left Midgar Zack had been in close proximity to Aerith, being both watchful and playful.

In the first few miles not much had been said by any of them, but as time crawled and the miles stretched Aerith had begun chatting—about nothing at all really—but her energy was refreshing and endearing, and Tifa could easily see why Zack was so fond of her. She was impossible not to like, but that didn't stop the unexpected pang Tifa felt whenever she caught the easy smiles exchanged between the two.

She tried to tell herself that it didn't really bother her—that she was simply tired and raw—but the truth of it was that it did bother her. And she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to fully examine the reasons why. So, faced with the options of self-analysis or making excuses, she opted to attribute her wayward emotions to the fact that, at the moment, she felt completely alone within their small group.

Barret and Red seemed to have bonded in the Shin-Ra cell they'd shared and were following behind her at a sedate pace, speaking animatedly about the Planet and its energy. Every so often Tifa would hear Barret's voice and a string of curse words associated with Shin-Ra, but for the most part he was surprisingly quiet and let Red do most of the talking.

Ahead of her, Zack was still teasing Aerith, who seemed content to indulge his playfulness and countered it with some tickling of her own. They were a lovely couple, she thought with that same undefined pang in her chest. Zack with his spiked dark hair and his sharp blue eyes and Aerith with her softly coiled ringlets and gentle emerald gaze. They complimented each other. They fit.

Tifa ducked her head down when Zack glanced back over his shoulder, the rocks beneath her boots becoming her focus as she purposefully ignored the bitter sting of tears in her eyes. Stop it, she scolded herself. You're just tired.

"Hey." She was startled when Zack fell into step beside her. "Doing okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm good," she told him with a nod and was glad to hear her voice was steadier than she felt.

He angled his head, tried to see her face which she kept carefully averted. Zack had a way of seeing through her.

"You've been kind of quiet," he commented. The concern in his voice was genuine, she knew, and the knot in her stomach loosened a bit.

She shrugged, kicked a rock out of her way. "I've been...thinking."

Leaning in, voice lowered to a not-so-quiet whisper, he asked, "Was I naked?"

Her eyes widened and her cheeks flamed. "Zack!"

He grinned, completely unrepentant. "I bet I was." He turned, and walking backwards shouted to Barret, "Tifa's thinking about me naked again!"

And there it was, she thought with a warm flutter. That humor, that genuineness,that made Zack, well, Zack.

"He's delusional," she countered, but she was fighting a smile.

Barret waved his hand. "What else is new?"

Zack shrugged him off with a grin, resumed walking beside her, but his eyes focused on, and followed Aerith. Tifa admired the loyalty he had to the other woman, and once again wondered at their history. She knew, from what Zack had told her, and her own eyes, that they had been romantically involved, and Aerith herself had called Zack her 'first love'...but what of now?

She shook her head at herself. It was none of her business. Zack was her friend, and that was the extent of it. Good friends. Teammates. Nothing more.

"You're doing that thinking thing again," he hip-bumped her.

She aimed a look at him, fully intent on quipping back, but the sight over his shoulder slowed her feet, then stopped her altogether.

Zack stopped too. "Tifa?"

The sun, with its pale fingertips of light playing with hints of blue, was barely peeking over the horizon, stretching up to the waking world. The soft, muted glow was warm, hinting at calm, clear skies and Tifa found herself wondering when the last time she had seen a sunrise was.

The simple beauty of it overwhelmed her and as she looked around, really looked—at the trees dotting the road; the grass beneath her feet; the fresh, clean air in her lungs—she let out a slow breath, watched it plume and felt...something stir in her chest.

Life.

Living beneath the plate, surrounded by heaps of metal and decay, it was so easy to forget that there was so much more... so much worth saving.

"Tifa?" Zack laid his hand, warm and steady, on her shoulder.

"It's beautiful," she answered with an open hand gesture toward the rising sun. "I'd... forgotten."

Understanding shone in his deep violet-blue gaze and as he turned to face the dawn with her, he slipped his hand down, linked his fingers with hers and held fast.

The touch was familiar, Tifa realized, with mild surprised. Familiar and...welcome. When had she grown accustomed to Zack being in her personal space? Somewhere along the way he'd managed to slip past her defenses and make himself quite at home.

Deciding that questions were only going to spoil the moment, Tifa closed her eyes, tilted her head back and just...was. For that brief, simple, moment there was no Shin-Ra, no Sephiroth, no painful past, no uncertain future; there was only light and warmth and sunshine and the welcome pressure of a hand joined with hers.

"What the hell is the hold up?" Barret groused, coming up behind them. "This ain't no sight-seeing tour, kids, let's move!"

Returning to herself, Tifa blinked and sighed. He was right, of course. There was no time for silly indulgences. Shin-Ra wouldn't be far behind and there was no telling how far ahead Sephiroth was.

"He's always just so charming," Zack muttered.

Tifa gave the horizon one last, longing, look before she tugged her hand from Zack's and squaring her shoulders, dutifully trailed after Barret.

As he watched Tifa walk away, Zack had the overwhelming urge to run up and smack Barret in the back of his fat head. For a moment—far too brief a moment, in his opinion—the shimmering tension that always seemed to surround Tifa had faded, and she had seemed...at peace. Which was something that Zack knew she hadn't had a lot of. It wouldn't have hurt to let her have it for a few more minutes.

Sighing, he ruffled his hair and winced at the texture of grime and blood. They needed to get into town, and get cleaned up. Some clothes and food were in order as well. It'd been forever since he'd had a decent meal and his stomach was currently in the process of trying to devour itself.

"You comin'?" Barret hollered over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get your panties in a bunch!" Zack jogged after them and seriously considered the head-smack.

Fifteen minutes later, he and the rest of the bone-weary group walked beneath an arched 'Welcome' sign and into the quiet village of Kalm. The town was tidy with an "old-time" feel to it, with its vintage stone townhouses and shops, painted porches and cobblestone streets—designed to look like ripples of water. Those streets were empty now and the quaint little houses were still dark and silent, which was no surprise, really. Kalm was an idyllic community known for its festivals and food and not its hustle and bustle.

It was also known for its close proximity to the Myrthil Mines, Zack knew. Shin-Ra like to keep close track of surrounding villages and what purpose they could serve to the corporation. Years ago it was determined that Kalm wasn't of any real use to Shin-Ra; strategically it was too open and being absent of any real source of Mako it held no interest there, but the mines were potentially useful, and so SOLDIERS patrolled the village from time to time.

Back when he was still a recruit, Zack had considered the surveying clever on Shin-Ra's part—to secure what they could, and use it to their advantage was just smart, in his opinion—but that was before he'd become a surveyed thing. Now, Zack saw it as coldly calculating in a way that made his skin crawl.

"So, this is Kalm," Tifa murmured as she took in the surrounding homes and businesses. Her eyes rested on a mining well in the center of town for a long minute before moving on to gaze across the streets.

"We should find an inn," Aerith suggested. She turned to Zack. "Where to?"

"This way." Zack took point, leading the group towards a nearby inn. The Inn was small, but clean looking, with a"vacancy" sign above the door. Not that they'd be too particular at this point, Zack mused, as he pushed open the door.

The lobby, as he'd expected, was empty when the entered and they made their way to the front desk as a chain; a tired, dirty, nearly broken chain. Zack brushed his hair back from his face before he slapped his palm to the bell on the counter, attempting to look presentable given his un-presentable appearance.

"Hold your chocobos," a rough, sleep-laced, voice filtered out from the back room followed by a bump and grunt and a few seconds later a bleary eyed innkeeper strolled out, rubbing his eyes with one hand and fumbling with his spectacles with the other. His hair, thin and white, stood out in tufts behind his over sized ears. "Who is it?" He blinked owlishly at Zack, donning his eyeglasses.

"We need a room," Zack said by way of introduction.

The elder man peered at him over the rim of his glasses. Warily, his eyes traveled down and back, taking in Zack's dirty, worn appearance with a stiffening frown.

"Our carriage broke down," Zack answered the unspoken question, his voice smooth and even as silk. "We've been walking for hours."

Gray eyes narrowed skeptically, but the innkeeper reached beneath the counter to produce a leather 'Guest Book', which he set carefully onto the wood. "I'll need you to sign in," he stated, one crooked finger jabbing the brown leather. He swept the rest of the group with a speculative glower. "All of you."

Zack cleared his throat, leaned against the counter. "I'd really rather not have to sign in. Just the room, please."

The older man chuffed, indignant. "I ain't boarding no criminals."

"We're not criminals, sir," Aerith spoke up, cutting Barret off before his protest even formed. She gave his beefy arm a gentle pat as she passed him and approached the counter. "We're just weary travelers trying to find a place to rest."

Behind his spectacles, the innkeepers eyes widened and he absently straightened the buttons on his sweater

"Hi," Aerith greeted, smiling a smile so sunny that the man had to blink again. "I know it's probably a terrible imposition that we're asking of you, but we can't sign in." She leaned in a bit, lowered her voice. "Here's the thing...Mr...?"

"uh...Roemer."

Aerith grinned, apparently proud of the older man for remembering his name. "You see, Mr. Roemer, I'm trying to escape an arranged marriage to a horrid man and my friends here are helping me. If my parents find out..." she gave him a doe eyed look. "Well, let's just say it wouldn't be pretty. I would be so grateful, sir, if you could find us a room." She brushed her hands over her skirt, chuckled. "I'm a mess after walking all this time and a soft bed and a warm meal would be so welcome."

The elder man cleared his throat as he closed the 'Guest Book'. He placed it back beneath the counter top."It's two hundred gil per night."

"Oh, thank you, sir!" Aerith beamed, clapped her hands.

Zack, closing his open mouth, reached into his pocket and pulled out what little gil he'd managed to pick off of the dead guards at Shin-Ra HQ. He counted out two hundred and placed it on the counter.

"No pets," Mr. Roemer grunted, his eyes flicking on Red.

"I can assure you, sir, that he is completely house trained." Red's voice was soft and serious as he tipped his nose toward Zack, his good eye remaining on the man behind the counter.

To his credit, the lines of the innkeepers face barely twitched. He simply pulled a set of keys off the hook on the back wall and handed them to Aerith.

To Red he replied, "He'd better be." And the group shared their first laugh in what felt like forever.

Before they left the lobby Aerith asked, "Would it be possible to have some clothes sent up to us? We're filthy, and I'd hate to ruin any of your lovely things."

Mr. Roemer emerged from behind the counter, made his way to a small closet beneath the stairs. "We've got some odds and ends here in the lost and found." He held open the door, gestured to the hanging jackets and boxes of clothing. "Help yourselves."

A few minutes of rummaging secured some clean clothing for all of them, and despite some loose fits and unfashionable combinations, Zack was thankful to have something not smeared with blood. He placed another fifty gil onto the counter just for that little luxury alone.

At the top of the stairs Barret let out a soft chuckle and said to Aerith, "That was some quick thinkin', girlie. Good job."

Zack nodded in agreement and slid Aerith a glance."I never knew you could lie so well. An arranged marriage, huh?"

She blushed a bit, shrugged. "It was the best I could come up with."

"It was good," Zack said, and told her, "It got us a room."

Aerith held up the room key with a triumphant but tired sigh. "And I can't wait to crawl into bed."

"First things first," Barret interjected, his voice once more hard. He jabbed his thumb at Zack. "Princess here needs to fill us in on who this Sephiroth guy is and what the hell is going on."

"You're right; first things first. We need to get cleaned up and get some food and supplies," Zack countered. "Then we can get together and I'll tell you what I know." His eyes sought out and found Tifa. Of all of them, she was the one he needed behind him the most. "Agreed?"

She gave a small nod of ascent, but remained quiet, lost somewhere in her own thoughts.

Zack rubbed his face. Her silence wasn't a problem, but the faded look in her eyes and the way she was retreating, was. He was concerned about her, about what she was thinking...and feeling. He shook himself. Now wasn't the time. "Okay, let's move."

The room they were to share was good size, and had two beds, a recliner, a small table with chairs, a television and access to a bathroom. Once inside, Zack divvied up tasks between them. He had Tifa organize the clothes, and Aerith sort the materia they'd stolen, instructing her to keep the strong ones and set aside the others to be sold or traded for weapons and supplies. Barret and Red, once showered, were sent to do just that while Zack rustled up some breakfast.

The room was quiet when he returned, a tray of food procured from the unoccupied kitchen in his hands. He set it down on the closest of the two beds, and made mental note to figure out sleeping arrangements soon. He didn't imagine Barret wanted to snuggle, so chances were one of them—most likely him—would be sleeping in the chair beside the window.

"Tifa?" Zack glanced around, spotted the bathroom door slightly ajar. "Aerith?" The hiss of the shower told him that it was occupied, so he paused just outside the door and rapped lightly against the wood. "Hello?"

No answer. He knocked again, a bit louder, but still received no reply.

Frowning with concern, he pushed the door open a bit more... and froze. He couldn't see the shower itself, it was nestled somewhere behind the door, near the toilet, but he could see the mirror, and in it, Tifa Lockhart was washing her hair.

Face tipped up into the spray she was vigorously massaging frothing bubbles through her mass of long, dark hair; and as Zack watched, a slippery trail of bubbles slid down a tone back and over a perfectly rounded posterior. Abruptly everything hummed, blurred and then shot into sharp focus, and her reflection filled his vision.

It was a SOLDIER response, one that usually emerged when fighting and he was honing in on targets, and Zack wasn't altogether sure what to make of his having the reaction now, but he wasn't entirely complaining either.

Acute senses took in the clean smell of shampoo, the shimmer of skin beneath water, the barely there taste of heat and skin, and as his hands twitched and he had the near overwhelming urge to just feel her, he heard the door of the room open and his name.

"Zack?"

Zack turned away from the bathroom door with a small jump."Aerith!" He closed the bathroom door quickly, wincing at the sharpness of it. "I was just, uh, checking on you guys," he said lamely, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Uh-huh." Aerith placed a small bowl and towel on the table, pulled out the chair. "Why don't you come over here and let me take care of the injuries your trying to hide," she suggested, clearly not buying his excuse.

Zack blinked. "Huh?"

Aerith cocked her head, tapped a foot, pointed at the open seat.

"How...?" He shook his head, smiled ruefully. "Never mind."

She motioned for him to take off his shirt and waited patiently as he did, her cheeks only marginally pink.

Shirt around his wrists, Zack sat in the chair, bent forward so she could tend the series of welts and bruises on his back.

Leftovers from repeated beatings with the EMR baton.

His breath hissed through his teeth at the first touch of her fingers on his skin, but he let it out slowly and started to relax as soothing cool breezes wrapped around him like satin ribbons, seeped into his skin, tingling as they went.

Palms flat on him, Aerith ran her hands along his spine, across his shoulders and back down and with each sweep Zack felt energy flow like water from her to him. He closed his eyes, let out a low groan of appreciation. "You're an angel," he murmured, slouching even more, muscles relaxing and tension ebbing.

She giggled quietly behind him. "So you've said." A few minutes later, he felt her shift, her finger tracing along barely puckered skin. Incision line. "You have a lot of scars," she said softly and he heard the question in her voice. She had seen him shirtless before, several times, in fact, and he knew that he hadn't carried the marks back then. He was SOLDIER and SOLDIERs healed—or they were supposed to. Being peeled apart by a lunatic scientist with Mako infused tools was apparently the exception.

"Yeah," was all he replied, his voice slightly rough.

Her fingertips were light, feathering across his back, no longer sending healing energy, but lingering.

Uncomfortable beneath her scrutiny, Zack straightened, pulled his shirt back over his head and broke the silence with a cheerful, "You're the best, Aer," over his shoulder.

Her green eyes were troubled as they tracked over his features. "You keep shutting me out," she accused softly.

He sighed, letting the pretense of cheer fall away, and ran his hand through his now clean hair. "I'm not."

"Then why won't you tell me what happened to you?"

"It's not important."

"I think it is."

He paced a few feet away. "It's not something I talk about," he told her finally. Not something he even liked to think about.

"I bet you'd talk to Tifa," she muttered.

He turned on her, eyes wide. "Aerith?"

Her own eyes were large, as though she were surprised at her own words. "I..." she shook her head quickly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's just...things are so different now." She tilted her head, angled him a look. "We used to be close."

Zack's eyes softened on her. "We still are."

"Yes, but it's different. I knew it would be, we both did, but I just...I just wasn't ready to see someone else where I used to be so soon," she explained in a rush.

Where she used to be? Zack raised a brow at that. "Aerith," he approached her slowly, cupped her shoulder in one hand and tilted her chin up with the other. When she wouldn't look at him, he brushed his lips across her forehead. "No one, and I mean no one, can replace you in my heart. You...are special to me."

Her gaze lifted to the his, searching. "But it's not me you're in love with, is it...?"

"No," he answered after a short pause. He wouldn't lie about that, but the question made him curious, and concerned. "You're not...still in love with me, are you?"

It was Aerith's turn to pause, considering. "I thought maybe I was...until I saw you with Tifa."

He was startled by her confession.

She shrugged, cheeks flushed. "When you left, there was so much unfinished, I guess I felt...we hadn't run our course. But then you came back...except...not to me."

"Aer—"

Eyes still on the his, she stopped him, "I know. But you did...and that's okay, Zack." She touched his cheek, her green gaze warm and tender. "If I'm honest, the answer is no; I'm not in love with you, at least not like I was." She stepped away from him, gave him her profile as she stared out the window.

Zack didn't know what to say, so he simply said nothing and waited.

She sent him a sidelong look beneath her lashes. "When I was a child I learned that I could tap into the planet, like plugging in an outlet, and I could hear these... voices. So many voices and yet... I was so lonely." Her lips curved slightly up in a wistful smile. "And then there you were, crashing into my life, and I wasn't so lonely anymore. And even when you disappeared, even though we weren't together, you were still mine. And now, you're not." She faced him again, her chin up. "And it hurts a little, but I understand."

Zack stood very still, dumbstruck. That she thought so much of him, it made him feel humble. He opened his arms and said with feeling, "I'll always love you."

She smiled, genuine and happy, and stepped readily into his hug. "I love you, too," she murmured into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," The voice, soft and quiet was tinged with embarrassment and something Zack couldn't identify, and it brought his head up sharply."I—I didn't mean to interrupt," Tifa continued, her dark eyes darting to the bed and the haphazard pile of clothes there, never meeting his. "I just wanted my clothes. I'll be gone in just— "

"Wait, Tifa, I..." Flustered, Zack struggled for words that would keep Tifa from getting the wrong idea about what she just walked in on.

Aerith took the matter in her own hands, however, and stepping away from him, she reached out for Tifa. "There's always room for one more," she stated emphatically, pulling a startled Tifa into their hug.

Why did the soap from the showers smell so much better on her? Zack wondered, resisting the urge to close his eyes and bury his face in her hair.

Tifa gave a soft "oomph" as she collided with them, but her arms hung limp at her side.

"You don't go until I get a hug," Aerith threatened.

Hesitant arms curled around Aerith's waist. Satisfied, Aerith reached for Zack and placed his arm around Tifa, and Zack recognized the gesture for what it was. Aerith had just given him her blessing and Zack felt his heart swell for her and her generous spirit.

"Thank you," he mouthed over Tifa's head and Aerith smiled.

When the five of them were together again, cleaned and fed, Zack began his story. He paced in front of the window and internally debated on how best to describe Sephiroth and the magnitude of the threat he presented—if he was indeed alive.

"C'mon, man, out with it," Barret urged. "What's the deal with this Sephiroth chump?"

Zack looked up from the carpet, met Barret's impatient gaze. "Sephiroth isn't to be taken lightly. He is...was a legend. SOLDIER First Class, and elite even amongst us. He was the greatest warrior Shin-Ra ever had."

Barret leaned back in his chair. "Sounds like you had a crush on the man."

Zack narrowed his eyes briefly, but then sighed. "In a way, I guess you aren't far off." Before Barret could interject some off-color remark, Zack added, "I used to want to be like him." He looked to Tifa, searched her face. "I wanted to be a hero."

She nodded once, barely there, but it was encouragement, so he continued. Turning toward the window Zack let his mind drift back to his days at Shin-Ra, when he was tagging along with Angeal and idolizing Sephiroth. "We went on several missions together. He was my General and I thought..." he shook his head. "I thought he was my friend."

"What happened?" Aerith asked gently when he stalled.

Zack once more found his eyes resting on Tifa. "We were sent on a mission. It went bad."

"How bad?" Red questioned, lifting his head from his paws.

"Bad." Zack pinched the bridge of his nose. "We were sent to investigate an old Mako reactor that was malfunctioning, releasing brutal monsters near... the village." Funny, he thought, looking at her, he couldn't say the word. Nibleheim. It was just a town, right? He should be able to spit that much out.

"Just you and Sephiroth?" Barret wanted to know.

"No," Zack swallowed, straightened and refused to flinch. "There were two Shin-Ra Infantry guards with us: Patrick Henderson and Cloud Strife."

Tifa closed her eyes on the name, took a breath and Zack paused for her. When she looked at him again there were flecks of red bleeding into the brown. When Barret opened his mouth, Zack shot him a look, and held up his hand. He wasn't continuing until Tifa was ready.

Slowly, she nodded. "Keep going."

He held her gaze as he recounted his impression of the village, and their reception. "We were to take a guided tour up the mountain to the reactor, try and find the problem. I was a bit reluctant to have Tifa as our guide—"

"Wait, wait, wait," Barret waved his hand, sat up. "Tifa was your guide?" He gave her a long look.

"Yeah," Zack nodded.

"You were a mountain guide? For damn Shin-Ra?"

Tifa shot him a glare. "No. I was a guide for my hometown. How about we let Zack finish talking?"

Zack crossed his arms over his chest, the gesture unconscious and futile. There was no way to defend himself from what he knew was coming. "The trip up the mountain was tricky. We were attacked non-stop. We lost Henderson down a gorge and more than once we were forced to fight beasts like I've never seen before—or since."

In brief, succinct words, Zack informed the group of Sephiroth's reaction to the Jenova locked in the reactor, his mental breakdown, and his self-imposed confinement in the Shinra Mansion. Over the next hour he answered as many questions as he had answers for. It was painful for him to relive that betrayal, painful to realize just how deep the wounds still went, and so very painful to watch his words tear at the wall Tifa had built around herself.

Zack sat on the end of the bed. "Later, his insanity got the best of him, and Sephiroth committed his ultimate act of hate and vengeance against the people of Nibleheim."

"What did he do?" Aerith asked, knees drawn up to her chest.

"He slaughtered them." It was Tifa who spoke, her eyes ruby hard. "He killed everyone he could get his hands on and lit the town on fire."

"That's awful!" Aerith exclaimed, her soft green eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Oh, Tifa..."

Tifa lowered her head, her hair falling over her shoulder to veil her expression. "Keep going, Zack," she whispered.

"I found him at the reactor," Zack continued, choosing his next words carefully. "But I wasn't the first to reach him."

Tifa, with her head still bowed, let out a shaky exhale and then straightened her shoulders. "I tried, foolishly, to avenge my father," she explained briefly. "I was no match for Sephiroth, and he let me know it." Absently, her hand wandered up to press her chest.

"Well, shit, from what Zack says, there was no match for him," Barret said gruffly.

"There was," Zack answered. "He was pure fire and vengeance himself." A swell of old pride caused his throat to close and Zack paused to swallow before he was able to continue. "It was Cloud's village too, and his home, and his mother..." a glance at Tifa, "and his love that Sephiroth took."

"The other Infantry Guard?"

"Yes. It was Cloud that attacked Sephiroth, and Cloud that defeated him."

Tifa's eyes were closed again, her breaths small and quick.

She was trying not to cry, Zack realized, and his heart hurt for her. He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up into his arms and take it away. The memory, the pain, Sephiroth...all of it.

"How?" Red asked, snapping his attention back.

"He threw him into the Mako pool at the base of the reactor—into the Lifestream."

Barret rubbed the crease between his eyebrows. "Wait a damn minute. If this Cloud kid killed Sephiroth, how the hell is he responsible for what happened at Shin-Ra?"

"I don't know," Zack acknowledged, not liking having to admit that uncertainty. "But I do know that if it is Sephiroth, then he's more powerful than I imagined."

"Strong enough to withstand a swim in Mako? Yeah, that's pretty damn strong," Barret agreed.

Aerith nodded. "Pure Lifestream is corrosive, right? It would have been like acid." She angled a look at Zack. "But what happened to you and Tifa after Cloud beat him?"

Zack shoveled his hands through his hair. Trust Aerith to pick up on what he wasn't saying. "We were all pretty beat up. I don't really remember much, after," he lied. "Just that Cloud and I were taken into Shin-Ra custody..." he looked at Tifa, questions in his eyes.

"Zangan," she provided. "Came and got me."

"So where's this Cloud now?" Barret wanted to know. "Maybe we could get him and have him kick Sephiroth's ass again?"

The ache in Zack's chest almost doubled him over, and how he managed to keep his voice steady was beyond him. "Not possible. Cloud was killed by Shin-Ra months ago."

"Aw, shit. Now it makes sense," Barret muttered. "Aw, hell, Teef." His expression was one of concern and understanding. "That's why chuckle-monkey here found you, isn't it?"

"Cloud sent me, yes," Zack answered. But he's not why I stayed...

"So what now?" Red questioned in his calm, neutral tone. "Interesting back story aside, we must figure out a course of action to deal with the current threat this Sephiroth SOLDIER presents."

"Now we find out what we can. Somebody, somewhere has to have seen a man with a mile long sword and silver hair."

"And if they have? What then? If this person is as unstoppable as you say—"

"I never said he was unstoppable," Zack corrected, eyes flashing. "And I intend to stop him."

"But what if you can't?" Tifa demanded, surprising all of them. "What if you can't, Zack?" she repeated. Her voice broke and she angrily swiped at the tears in her eyes. "What if I lose you too?"

Zack got to his feet. "Tifa?"

She shook her head, rushed for the door.

"Tifa, wait," Zack called after her, and got the door slamming as his response. He glanced at the others, who were all staring at him in a muted sort of shock.

"Go after her," Aerith urged.

"Make it right," Barret commanded.

Could he? Zack wondered as he stepped out of the room. Would there ever be a way to make it right?

He found her at the end of the hallway, staring out the large window. Even in the bright light of day, she was shrouded in the shadows of memories, and she had never before seemed so far away from him. It didn't take a genius to know what—who—she was thinking about, and his steps faltered.

There was so much he wanted to say, so much he had to tell her. He wanted so much to just make things right for her, and to take away what had been done. But he couldn't, and that made him ache and hurt in ways he didn't know how to handle.

She had lost everything at the hands of Shin-Ra; her father, her home, her innocence. Her life had been scorched and ruined that night, just as Nibleheim had been, and no amount of words were going to change that.

Sephiroth had robbed her of nearly everything, but it had been him that had left her to die. It was bitter and hard in his heart and in retelling the tale he had been forced to relive that moment. He had left her there, cut open and bleeding, on that cold floor, with her fiery eyes dimming with each labored breath. He had stood up, walked away and left her to die.

He had left that out when telling the others, but in his mind the scene played over and over again.

SOLDIER training was ingrained in him and he had assessed, calculated and determined her to be a lost cause and had moved on. Teenage Zack had cared nothing for teenage Tifa, but now... Now it twisted him inside to know he'd left her.

"Tifa..." His voice came out husky, but he knew she heard it by the way she stiffened. She didn't turn, remained facing the window—away from him—but the tilt of her head changed, indicating that she was listening. He swallowed, wiped his hand on his pants. "Are you all right?"

"Go." Her voice was soft and ragged, worn and frayed thin. "Just...please, go." She pressed her forehead to the glass. "I'll be okay. Just give me a minute."

"Tifa..." He took a shaky breath and another step closer."I need you to know..." What did he need her to know? That he was sorry? That he never should have left her? That he wished he could go back and save Cloud and give her the happy ending she deserved? Or that part of him, some selfish, greedy part of him, wanted her to look at him and forgive him. "I lied to you."

Her shoulders stiffened but she didn't lift her head, kept her eyes down and angled away from him.

Another step closer. "Back then...I said I wouldn't ask you to forgive me... but, I'm asking you now. Please, Tifa—"

"Stop."

One more. "Please forgive me."

A shudder from her and then a slow shake of her head... and something inside of him withered.

"I understand if you can't..." he cleared his throat, tried to alleviate the tightness there. "Just know that I am sor—"

"Don't!" Her voice cracked like a whip, surprising him. Then, softer, "Don't say it again." She lifted her face and Zack was stunned to see the vehemence reflected in her eyes. "I can't forgive you because there's nothing to forgive! Don't you see that? I don't blame you, I never did, and I'm the one who's sorry. I'm so sorry I said...I said I hated you, Zack. I... I just was scared and hurt and...I'm so sorry," she choked, long lashes closing on a shudder. "So please, just don't." She tried to push past him.

"Tifa, wait." He placed his palm flat on the wall, blocking her. There was a subtle shift in his stance, one that told her he was prepared for her to try and dart away.

"Don't leave, okay? Not yet." He brushed the fingers of his opposite hand against the side of her face. "I wouldn't blame you, if you hated me," he whispered. "I can't change what happened...or what I did, but I want you to know...I'd do anything to go back and do it differently."

Her eyes were wide and wary, her body so tense she practically hummed with it.

Words, he realized, were not enough. Inadequate, at best, and empty of what he felt. Slowly, giving her plenty of time to realize his intention, he bent and brushed his lips over her cheek, her nose, and then her mouth, feather light—not really a kiss at all—but it made him light headed and heavy all at once.

She didn't protest, didn't move away, but that wasn't enough. Zack angled his head, pressed—gentle, undemanding—to coax her lips apart. He slipped in past her teeth and savored the slight, subtle play of her tongue against his.

She made a broken little sound, soft and barely there, but it brought his head up. He trailed his lips up over her cheek to brush the corners of her eye where tears had formed and then he was back again, full and deep and more than a little needy.

He felt her fingers flex between the press of their bodies as if she wasn't sure whether she wanted to push him away or pull him tighter.

The decision was made for her when the door down the hall slammed shut and snapped them back to reality. Zack's head lifted from hers only far enough for him to angle a look toward their room, his posture protective and on guard.

"I can't do this," she whispered, and her voice trembled. Her eyes shone in the sunlight with tears and regret and something deep and indefinable. "I just can't." And then she was out of his arms, pushing past him and practically running down the stairs.

Zack watched her go, his lips still alive, tingling with warmth and want, and his heart so heavy it hurt. His fingers tunneled into his hair and he took a steadying breath. He'd pushed, too much, too soon, and he knew it. But he had seen her in that room while he spoke of Nibleheim; had seen the way her knuckles had whitened on clenched sheets, the way her lips pressed together and the way her eyes shimmered ruby red every time he mentioned Cloud, and he wanted to comfort her.

No, he acknowledged to himself. It was more than that. He wanted her to need him, to accept him, and to know that she wasn't alone. She had lost Cloud, but she had him.

And he was afraid that wasn't enough.

AN: Wow, this chapter turned out a lot angstier than I had anticipated... But Tifa's head isn't so far up her ass that she's completely oblivious to her feelings or Zack's, so that should be changing really soon. ;) I hope you are all still with me and enjoying the story. Thank you so much for reading !! Also, special mention goes to the end scene being completley inspired by a MAGNIFICENT piece of fanart done for me by mymystranger!! In fact, this whole chapter stems from it, so MANY, MANY thank yous to her!