Chapter 7 – The Crumbling Edge

Marlene was frazzled. She had been healing wounded townspeople for over 12 hours with virtually no breaks. She had been working on her capacity (or "magic points" as Tifa called them) and was much stronger than when she had first started training, but she had run through her magic points several times over already. Tifa had a limited supply of ether, but the local apothecary had donated everything in his stock to keep her going after she had healed his grievously injured wife. They had already burned through all of his phoenix downs, and the supply of potions and hi-potions were being carefully rationed by a matronly woman named Eleanor Joya.

A section of the town hall was set aside as a makeshift hospital. A few cots had been brought in, but not nearly enough for the queue of people waiting to be seen. Most of the injured were huddled on blankets on the floor, and a wall to lean on if they were lucky enough to find a space.

Ms. Joya had taken on the role of triage nurse. She did what she could to slow bleeding and reset bones when needed. There were certain things that needed to be done before Marlene could effectively cure them, and as the mother of 8 clumsy children, she was most qualified to apply first aid. (She had also had some training as an army nurse, but she claimed that she had learned more patching up her bumbling chitlins than she ever had with formal training.)

She had come up with a system with colored handkerchiefs that she handed out to the patients as she evaluated them. They were designated as critical (pink flowered hankie), urgent (green and yellow stripes), or wounded (blue swirls). Some of the time, Marlene could only give attention to the pink flowered hankies, and then often only enough to get them downgraded to green and yellow stripes before moving to more pink flowers. When things slowed down a bit and she could see no more pink hankies, she returned to the striped hankie patients. Those whose injuries were minor enough to be given blue swirls were sent off to another area, where a team of volunteers armed with antiseptic, gauze, splints, and tape were there to patch them up.

There were also some designated "helpers" – some girls around Marlene's age that brought around water to the people waiting to be seen and helped them drink it, or brought extra towels or blankets if there were any to be found.

The rest of the townspeople, those who weren't injured, caring for the injured, or out on rescue missions to bring in the survivors, milled around the town hall listlessly. A few of the stronger, more capable types had tried to help with the fighting, but they had badly underestimated the strength of their enemies. These beasts were not the occasional nuisance on the edge of town that could be chased off with a pitchfork. These monsters were big and strong and feral. They destroyed homes and ended lives without a modicum of guilt.

Many of Marlene's most critical patients were these brave but misguided people who had tried to help Tifa and her crew protect the town. They were not trained fighters. They were farmers and barbers and shopkeepers. Marlene poured everything she had into helping these people, because she knew that they were brave enough to do what she was not.

A wave of exhaustion swept over her as she put a hand to the wall to steady herself. One of the helpers, a girl named Alexis ("Lexi, please") came up behind Marlene and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"You're doing a really great job, Marlene," she said sincerely. She was a few years older than Marlene, with thoughtful brown eyes and wavy brown hair. She was slightly familiar, and Marlene thought that she'd possibly seen her around the halls at school.

Marlene tried to smile. "Thanks Lexi. You too."

Lexi snorted. "I'm about as useful as a pigeon in a pigpen. But what you can do…that's really something, Marlene. There are people here who would have died without you."

It's amazing how much difference a few words can make. A little ray of sunshine brightened Marlene's heart and she straightened up. "What you're doing helps too, Lexi. You're giving people comfort when they're scared and hurting. That's important."

Lexi smiled bashfully. "Well, back to it, I guess," she said, waving as she walked away.

A couple of hours later, they were down to the green and yellow hankies. It had been a while since a new wave had come in, and all of their patients seemed at least stable. Marlene took a break to get some water from the table at the center of the hall.

Across the room, she heard some commotion as two men helped carry a third inside. Ms. Joya waved frantically to get her attention. "Marlene! Get over here quick!"

Marlene hurried over, calling out to the lifestream even as she ran. By the time she reached him, the bright green glow at her wrist was channeled into a flow of healing that streamed out through her fingertips. The man arched his back as she moved her hand over his chest, where a huge gash was spurting crimson blood. She stopped the flow of the stream before it could reach him. He wouldn't heal properly if he couldn't hold still.

Ms. Joya was leaning over the man and attempting to press against both sides to bring the wound together, but the man was squirming and writhing in pain. On top of that, the blood was covering Ms. Joya's arms and spraying her face, making everything slippery and hard to see.

"Hannah! Lexi! We need your help!" Marlene called out over the man's screams.

The helpers hurried to the man's side. Hannah stood opposite of Ms. Joya, trying to hold the wound closed from that side, but she was quickly getting as slippery as the older woman, and even the two of them couldn't hold the man still. Lexi knelt down by the man's head and took his hand. She spoke softly in his ear. Her crooning words were unintelligible to Marlene, but the man immediately calmed. His thrashing stopped and his back relaxed against the floor. Ms. Joya and Hannah pressed his skin together so that the wound could mend evenly while Marlene streamed healing light over his chest.

The bleeding slowed dramatically, but the man was still pale and his breathing was shallow. A wave of dizziness swept over Marlene and the world went out of focus. No! Not now! I can't run out of magic points now! He's not healed enough yet! Pain started to thread up her arms as she fought against her body. Just a little more! Just give me a little more!

"Marlene. Stop." Lexi pulled back on Marlene's hands.

"No! He's still bleeding inside! I can still feel it!" Marlene cried. But she could also feel that the blood was slowing, being pushed weakly by the fading beats of his heart. "Get me some ether! I need to finish!"

Hannah ran over to the supplies and returned a moment later with a bottle of ether. Marlene snatched it and swallowed it down, feeling the clarity trickling into her muddled head. The empty bottle hit the floor with a muted clang as she grabbed onto the current of the lifestream again. But something was wrong. The healing stream wouldn't go into the man's body. It swirled around above his chest, going nowhere and ultimately dissipating into the air.

"Why isn't this working?" Marlene cried. She sent out another surge, and again it swirled above the man's chest and disappeared.

Lexi reached out to Marlene's hand and gently enclosed it within her own. "Marlene. It's too late. He's gone."

"No he's not! I can bring him back! I just needed a little more! Let me finish!" She sent out bursts, fighting against Lexi's hand.

"Marlene. Stop. You're wasting magic and there are other people who need your help," Lexi murmured in her ear.

"No! I just…no! Just let me!" Marlene sobbed. And then she crumbled.

Lexi held her, letting her gently down to the floor as she cried. She wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, held Marlene's head against her chest, and started singing. The words she sang meant nothing to Marlene, but the pain in her stomach began to fade as the music filled her head. The room around her faded out. The sharp iron smell of blood that had been inescapable for most of the day dulled and disappeared. There was only the music. Incredibly, a sense of peace soothed the jagged edges of her heart.

Marlene blinked and sat up as the music faded. She looked at Lexi in awe. "What did you just do?"

Lexi shrugged. "I just sang the first thing that popped into my head. I was just trying to get you to calm down."

"But I—" The sounds of groaning and crying filtered back in, and Marlene remembered where she was. She had work to do. She squeezed Lexi's hand and stood. "We need to talk later."

Lexi got to her feet as well. The others had covered the man's body and gone off to divest themselves of the worst of the blood. Marlene felt a faint sadness as she looked at the covered body, but none of the anguish that had overwhelmed her before. In fact, she felt more refreshed than she had in hours. Lexi had started to walk away when Marlene called out to her again.

"Lexi? Just…um…thanks," she finished awkwardly.

Lexi smiled and nodded, then turned away.

Denzel clung desperately to Cloud as they raced through the night. He had been uncomfortable with their speed on the way there, but this was terrifying. The helmet blocked out most of his vision, which was fine with Denzel. He didn't even want to look at all the things that were flying by fast enough to dismember him. He locked his hands together in front of Cloud and tucked his head against his back as he had been instructed. Cloud's body would serve as a shield against any debris or smaller branches that he didn't want to spend the time swerving to avoid.

The wind was cold against Denzel's arms, but he could feel Cloud's heat through his shirt, and he was hot. Denzel was getting uncomfortably warm just from the places they were in contact. He felt the first twitch at Cloud's abdomen after they had been on the road for about an hour. Cloud didn't show any outward reaction. They continued driving.

The next twitch was much stronger. It was accompanied by a rough grunt. Denzel lifted his head slightly. "Cloud! Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm…AGH!" Cloud doubled over, wrapping one arm around his stomach. He released his grip on the accelerator and the bike began to slow, but not nearly enough. He raised his head and reached out for the handlebar again, but before he could reach it, another pain tore through him. Cloud screamed and released both handlebars, aware of nothing but the searing pain ripping through his insides.

"CLOUD!" Denzel screamed.

Cloud was doubled over, attempting to curl himself into a ball. Fenrir swerved dangerously to one side. Denzel reached over him and grabbed the handlebars, attempting to straighten the speeding bike. He overcorrected, careening to the other side. Cloud stopped screaming and slumped in the seat, unconscious. Denzel released one of the handlebars and attempted to hold on to Cloud as he slid to one side. The guy was heavy. He managed to straighten the wobbling bike, but he was starting to lose his hold on Cloud.

He scanned the gauges and levers frantically, searching for the brake. Why hadn't Cloud ever shown him how to drive this thing? They were decelerating, but still moving way too fast.

"Cloud! Wake up!" he yelled down at him.

Cloud didn't wake up. Denzel's arm strained under the weight of Cloud's body as it slumped further off the side of the bike. His muscles burned and quivered. "Cloud! What do I do, Cloud? HELP me! Wake UP!"

Denzel's arm gave out. Cloud's body fell to the side, pulling Denzel and the bike down with it. They skidded across the rocky dirt together. Denzel's arm was still trapped underneath the heavy body. He felt every rock and stick tearing through his flesh, and he heard the distinctive snap of his forearm as the bone splintered. Finally the friction against Cloud's body pulled him free from Denzel, and Denzel bounced and rolled before coming to an abrupt stop against a tree. Pain speared through his back, competing with the agony radiating up his arm.

The sound of metal scraping against rock stopped a moment later as Fenrir slid to a halt. Denzel kept his eyes shut tight, trying to breathe through the pain. His stomach rolled and he turned his head to the side, barely quick enough to avoid vomiting all over himself. He tried not to move as he heaved and coughed. Every tiny movement sent a bonus shot of agony through his body.

Once he had managed to continue breathing for a few minutes, he lifted his uninjured arm – relatively uninjured, anyway. It was scraped and bruised, but had received some protection from his bracer. The restore materia was covered in dust and scratches, but it was still intact. The pain made it hard to focus, but he pushed it from his mind and called out to the lifestream. It slid through his body like a soothing stream, easing the ache in his back and dulling the pain in his arm. He kept his eyes closed as he focused. The tingling in his arm was intense, bordering on painful, but he pushed through it, knowing that all of the individual cells inside of his arm were being repaired.

Finally, he opened his eyes. He was exhausted. He pushed himself up on to his knees and looked around for Cloud. He saw nothing but blackness in every direction. The only thing of note was the trail of disturbed dirt where Denzel had skidded across the ground. At the very least, he could follow their skid marks to get back to Cloud, although he had no idea how far that might be.

Denzel started crawling in that direction, but as he put his weight on his healed arm, it collapsed under him. Alarmed, he sat up to examine it. It didn't hurt anymore, but it didn't look right, either. It seemed crooked somehow. The muscles seemed to work, but they weren't firing in the way he expected. It was like they were getting commands from his brain, but the orders were all mixed up.

Biting his lip, he pushed himself on, crawling with one arm, the other held protectively against his chest. After an excruciatingly slow 50 yards, he came across the heap of dusty clothes that was Cloud. He looked like he hadn't moved from the place where his skid had ended. Denzel looked him over. He didn't seem nearly as scraped up as Denzel had been, but his skin was much tougher due to all the mako treatments.

Denzel gently pushed on a shoulder. He jerked back his hand as if he'd been burned. It felt like he'd been burned. Gingerly, he reached out and touched the shoulder again. It was definitely hot, but it wouldn't burn him. He shook his shoulder harder. "Cloud. Wake up!"

Still no response. Feeling suddenly panicked, Denzel rolled Cloud onto his back. His head lolled limply to one side. "Come on, Cloud, this isn't funny anymore! You've got to get up!" Wet tracks cut through the dust on Denzel's cheeks. He bit back the mounting hysteria.

'No matter what happens, you have to stay calm. Think through it. Take in your environment and evaluate your options.'

Yes, trainer Cloud-in-his-head had a good point. Getting hysterical would help no one. But his heartbeat refused to slow down. His brain was spinning in useless circles. Snippets of voices flew past, random fragments of conversation remembered over the years.

Denzel, you need to finish…Don't eat those they'll make you sick…Wait for me…Can you show me how…Watch your feet…It's your turn for…Remember that day…Getting tired, buddy…You're not old enough…Don't touch the…

There was something in there. Something he needed to grab on to.

Getting tired, buddy?

That was it. That was the memory he needed. He clung to it desperately, letting the rest of the memory fill in around that one phrase. The sound of the waves. The murmur of familiar voices. The heaviness of a hand. The feeling of safety.

The tingling warmth of the lifestream ebbed and flowed around him, easily within his reach. Of course! I haven't even tried to heal him yet!

Denzel opened his eyes as the warmth flowed through his fingers and into Cloud. Denzel watched anxiously for his reaction. The relatively minor scrapes and cuts of his road rash sealed themselves under healthy skin, but Cloud didn't move. Denzel channeled more, widening the stream. But still, Cloud didn't move.

Ok. Ok, what now? Now…my environment. Take in my environment.

Denzel glanced around them, wishing for a moment that he had Cloud's enhanced eyes, and then feeling ashamed of his envy as he remembered that none of Cloud's enhancements had been voluntary.

'Work with what you have, not what you wish you had. Go back to the beginning and think about what you want to accomplish, and then find a different way.'

"Thank you again, Cloud-in-my-head," he muttered. And then, because he felt a little less alone just hearing his own voice, he continued to speak aloud. "Ok, what do I want to accomplish? I want to see in the dark. Magical glowy eyes are out of the question…no idea where the lantern is…probably smashed on the side of the road…fire! I have fire materia!"

Feeling energized, Denzel got to his feet. He found a thick branch that would last for a while, but he knew from experience that it wouldn't burn well by itself. He scanned the ground for something to use, mentally discarding leaves and moss and animal remains that he spotted. Finally, a tear in the hem of his shirt caught his eye. He grasped the material on one side of the tear with his repaired arm, and used his good arm to pull in the opposite direction. It tore unevenly, leaving a big half-circular patch that exposed the left side of his abdomen and back.

"Never works as well as in the movies," he grumbled. It didn't matter, though. He had his material. He grasped both ends of the cloth and twisted it tightly, and then wrapped the twisted material around the end of the branch and tied it. He set the branch on the ground and backed away. He closed his eyes and focused. He had recently leveled the materia up enough to use Fira, and he would be able to target a smaller area with that. He made his target slightly above the cloth-wrapped end of the stick and cast his spell.

"Yes!" The fire was just wide enough to reach the fabric, and it caught. The rest of the fire burned out quickly with nothing but dirt to consume. Denzel picked up the torch, pleased to find that it worked almost as well as the lantern.

The light glinted off of something, catching his eye. As he walked closer, he recognized one of Fenrir's mirrors. Examining the ground more closely, he could see the trail where the bike had skidded across the dirt. He followed it until he reached the prize.

Fenrir was looking pretty beat up, but Cloud could probably fix it. At the moment, driving it was out of the question anyway. He couldn't lift Cloud onto the bike, and he wasn't going to leave him to go get help. Even if he could, he didn't know how to drive it or where to go.

What he needed was its cargo. Denzel reached around underneath the bike until he felt the phone's clip. It was still attached to the handlebars, but the phone was not. He sighed and traced the path back again, holding the torch in front of him and crouching down to keep the tracks in sight. He finally found the phone a short distance from the skid marks. He scooped it up and examined it in the light of the torch. The screen was smashed beyond recognition, but he pressed the power button anyway. There was nothing. Not a flicker, vibration, or sound. Just dead.

"Great. Brilliant." Denzel let his head fall back and looked up at the stars, easily visible in the blackness. "Gaia, what am I supposed to do?" The stars had no answers for him. "Why is this happening to me? I'm just a kid!" The anger built along with the volume of his voice. "Tell me what to do! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?"

He raised the useless phone over his head, ready to hurl it into the woods. But as he pulled his arm back, the stupid voice in his head stopped him – the stupid voice that was Cloud and his endless lessons.

'Anger clouds your mind. You have to let go of it to think clearly.'

His arm lowered slowly and a determined look came over his face. "I'm not just a kid. I'm not helpless. And Cloud needs me." He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I can do this."

Denzel slid the wrecked phone into his pocket and returned to Fenrir. The rest of the cargo was surprisingly still intact, protected from the skid. He pulled out the sleeping bags first, along with the water canteen. He didn't know how long Cloud would be out, but he couldn't stand to leave him lying in the dirt like he was. And now that the adrenaline was fading, his body was starting to remember that it was the middle of the night. Maybe he could get some rest until Cloud awoke.

He brought the sleeping bags and canteen back to where Cloud lay. He dropped them and stabbed the bottom of the torch into the ground as hard as he could. It wasn't quite deep enough to hold the branch straight up, but Denzel dug a little further down with his hands, put in the branch, and packed the dirt back in around it.

"Voila," he said with a flourish. "Floor lamp."

He unrolled one of the sleeping bags next to Cloud and pondered how to get him into it. But as he put his hand on Cloud's arm, he knew that the warmth of the bag was the last thing Cloud needed. He could at least put him on top of the bag so he wasn't lying in the dirt, though.

Denzel walked around to Cloud's feet. He picked those up first and levered them onto the bag. Then he knelt down by Cloud's middle. He slid his arms underneath his back and lifted. "Ow!" His healed arm throbbed angrily. He pulled it out and attempted to lift him with his good arm alone. He managed to raise his body about an inch, but his knees slid backwards against the dirt when he tried to push him forward.

"Hm. Ok. That's not going to work. Cloud, get off your lazy butt and help me." He stared at Cloud's passive form for a few seconds and then shrugged. "It was worth a try. Hmm…maybe I can get the bag under you instead."

He reached across Cloud's body and pulled, rolling him onto his side. Once he had him in that position, he held him there with his injured arm and then reached over and pulled the sleeping bag forward. He let Cloud roll back onto his back, so now the sleeping bag was mostly underneath him. From there, he grabbed onto the slippery material under his body and shoved Cloud with his shoulder, little by little, until he was all the way on the bag. It was exhausting. "Dude, you really gotta cut back on the elphadunk chops or something," he panted.

Cloud still felt really hot. Denzel remembered once when he'd had a fever, Tifa had put a wet cloth on his forehead. Since his shirt was already ruined, it wouldn't hurt to use a little more of it. He found another small tear in the collar on the right side. He pulled at that, ripping off the cloth over his shoulder. It took the whole sleeve along with it. He carefully wet it with the water from the canteen.

He went to lay it across Cloud's head, but a drip from the cloth cut a path through the dirt on his foreheard. Denzel carefully wiped away the filth, revealing the pale skin underneath. Cloud was even whiter than usual, and he could feel the heat radiating from his face. Whatever was wrong with him, it was getting worse.

Adding a bit more cold water to the cloth after cleaning his face as well as he could, Denzel folded it and laid it across Cloud's forehead. A rustling in the bushes behind them caught his attention. They hadn't exactly chosen their camping grounds, and this one seemed far from protected in Denzel's limited experience. Relieved that at least it wasn't his sword arm that had been injured, he scrambled to his feet and unsheathed his blade. It looked like he wouldn't be getting much sleep that night after all.

Finally, Marlene had let herself sleep. Most of the surviving townspeople were inside of the town hall by then, and the critical cases had stopped trickling in. Once there were only blue swirled hankies left – although she suspected Ms. Joya had been getting more liberal with the blue ones after Marlene blearily staggered into her – she had simply curled up on her side on the floor and passed out.

She was awakened by Tifa's voice, and for a moment, she thought she was waking up in Seventh Heaven on a regular school day like any other. As her eyes came into focus, she saw the patterned tile of the town hall floor and remembered where she was. She moved her head slightly, surprised to find something soft underneath it. It was Hannah's sweater. She was covered with a fuzzy blanket that she didn't recognize.

Tifa was talking to Ms. Joya nearby. Most of the town hall had been cleared out, and they had left behind a mess. It looked like a massive party been held. The chairs had been moved into clusters in different areas of the room. Garbage was scattered everywhere, and the room reeked of blood, vomit, and body odor.

"Oh dear, I can't tell you how wonderful Marlene was today," Ms. Joya gushed. "Did we ever find out what happened to Doc Marten?"

"No," Tifa said wearily as she pushed back stray hairs that had escaped from her braid. "He must have been out of town. We couldn't reach him."

"Oh well, at least it's over now," Ms. Joya said, smiling brightly. "You got all of those monsters out of our town though, right?"

"Every last one," Tifa confirmed wearily. "There's still a lot of cleanup to do, but—"

"Don't you worry about that, dear," Ms. Joya said, patting Tifa on the arm. "You've done your part now. The rest of the town can deal with the cleanup."

Tifa looked as rough as Marlene felt. She was covered in monster guts, and she looked like she was in need of a blue hankie herself. She had a large cut extending from her hairline down to her cheekbone, narrowly missing her eye. Her other eye was sporting a shiner that was probably still swelling, and a nasty-looking bruise colored her jaw. Her clothes had been torn in several places, and she was standing in a way that kept most of her weight off of one leg. She had taken off her gloves already, exposing her cracked and bleeding knuckles, which told of more fighting than they had seen in a long time.

it's probably for the best anyway," Ms. Joya went on. "Your little girl did more than he ever could have for all those people. What a responsible, delightful young lady."

Tifa smiled over at Marlene. Finding her eyes open, she walked over, limping slightly, and knelt down next to her. "Hi sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

Without a word, Marlene reached out and rested a hand on Tifa's knee. The stream, which usually felt like sand slipping through her fingers, flowed out of her and into Tifa. This time it felt like the fingers hurt to move, like the sorest muscle she could imagine. She winced as Tifa sighed in relief and the cuts and bruises were sealed over with healthy skin.

"Thank you, honey. But you should let me do that for anyone else who needs it." Gently, she reached over and popped the materia from the girl's bracer. "You didn't answer my question. How do you feel? And how many ethers did you drink today?"

"Mm," Marlene groaned. She tried to sit up, but her arms were so weak that they barely supported her. She collapsed back onto the soft sweater. "I dunno. A lot." Her voice was hoarse.

"That's ok. You just go back to sleep," she said, scooping the girl up.

Marlene rested her head on Tifa's shoulder. She didn't even stay awake long enough to leave the building.

Cloud groaned and put his hand to his head. He had a headache that told him that his body had been furiously healing itself while he'd been out. It seemed to be a survival mechanism of the S-cells. When his body was too damaged for him to continue, it just knocked him out and went into intense healing mode. It wasn't the first time he'd woken up feeling like that, and it wouldn't be the last.

The first thing he saw was a large branch stuck in the ground. The top was charred black. The sun was high in the sky, so it had outlived its usefulness hours ago. He sat up slowly to find Denzel sitting across from him on a sleeping bag. He was watching him calmly, but his shirt looked like it had been torn apart by a rabid beast. "Denzel? What happened?"

"You had an episode," Denzel stated matter-of-factly. "We crashed."

That woke him up fast. "Oh sh—um, are you ok?"

"Yeah. Mostly." Denzel shrugged.

Cloud stood up carefully, surprised to find that he actually felt pretty good. He didn't have even the residual soreness usually left in the mako's wake. Denzel must have healed him already.

He looked over at the boy. "What do you mean by mostly?"

"Well. I'm not sure about Fenrir. The phone is useless. And my arm doesn't seem to be quite right," he said casually.

Cloud walked over to where Denzel sat. "What's wrong with your arm?"

Denzel held out his crooked arm. Cloud grasped his wrist, gently palpating his forearm. "Did it break?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Well you didn't set it before you healed it, so it didn't heal right," Cloud said grimly. He gently turned Denzel's wrist, examining it closely. "Jeez, how many places did you break it?"

"I don't know," Denzel said irritably. "I was busy being in pain. I wasn't up for…seeing inside my body or whatever Marlene calls it."

Cloud ran a hand through his hair. "Right. Well we're going to have to break it again, but we'll need to wait until we get back to Tifa and Marlene. You'll just have to live with it for now."

"What? You can't handle being there for it? You need the girls to do it?" Denzel teased.

Cloud gave him a pained smile. "Oh, I'll be there. I'll be the one holding you down."

Before Denzel could really process what that meant, Cloud had walked away. "Come on, help me fix this." He was collecting pieces of glass and metal from the ground as he headed to where Fenrir lay sadly in the dust.

Denzel jumped up and followed quickly behind him. "How are you gonna fix it? It looks pretty bad, Cloud."

"I guess we'll see." Cloud grinned over his shoulder. "But she's tougher than she looks."

When Marlene opened her eyes, everything ached. She was back home in her own bed. She heard the murmur of familiar voices being carried up through the vents to her room. She and Denzel had figured out many years ago that conversations held in the kitchen could clearly be heard if they sat next to the vent in their bedroom. It didn't seem that Cloud and Tifa had ever learned about it, because they continued to have not-so-private talks in the kitchen. She had heard a few other things that she preferred not to think about, too.

Her face scrunched up in pain as she pushed her stiff muscles to get her out of the bed. She hobbled over to the vent and painfully lowered herself to her knees. She immediately recognized that deep voice and her heart leapt.

"When's she gonna wake up, Tifa? I need to see my little girl!"

"You've seen her, Barret."

"I mean when she's awake. I need to know she's ok."

"I already told you. She'll be fine. It's going to take a few days, though." Tifa paused. "As near as I can tell, she drank about twenty five ethers yesterday."

"Twenty five?! Are you kidding me?" There was a pause. "I don't uh…actually, I don't know what that even means. What's that gonna do to her?"

Tifa sighed wearily. "Ether restores the mind and spirit by taking energy from other places in the body. Everyone has some reserves, but once you deplete the extra energy, it starts being taken from any place it can be found. Bones, muscles, blood…and eventually organs. Normally, the body has enough reserve for about two ethers."

"Why can't you just cure her?" Barret demanded.

"Cure only helps to mend wounds. This is more like a lack of resources. It's going to take time to rebuild them."

"Okay…" Barret spoke thoughtfully. "And that nasty drink you made for her is supposed to help that?"

"Yeah, it'll replenish some of the nutrients and things she lost. But she can only absorb so much at a time."

"But…she will be back to normal. Eventually. Right?" Barret's voice was pleading.

Tifa didn't answer right away. Finally, she said, "probably."

"Tifa!" Barret boomed. "How could you let her do that?!"

Tifa sounded furious. "Let her? Are you kidding me? I was out there fighting, just like you were, except a whole lot longer. She's not a baby anymore, Barret! I can't stand over her and make sure she doesn't put things from the floor in her mouth! She's 12 years old, she's very capable, and she was doing her part to help, just like the rest of us. And sometimes…" her voice softened. "Sometimes, doing your part means you have to make sacrifices."

Barret's heavy boots thumped across the floor below. They reached the end of the kitchen and thumped back again. "She's too young to be making sacrifices, Teef." His voice cracked.

"I know," Tifa said. "And maybe she won't have to. She's young. She could bounce back from this. She saved a lot of lives, Barret. She did the right thing, even if it's hard for us to accept the price."

"Yeah. You're right," Barret said gruffly. "She's a good girl. You done a good job raising her."

There was dead silence in the kitchen. It was the first time Barret had ever admitted that he had left Marlene under someone else's care for so long that he couldn't claim to be actually raising her anymore. It must have been hard for him to say. He was the last one to really accept it.

"Barret –" Tifa started.

A thump against the kitchen door interrupted their conversation as someone else entered.

"Tifa." It was Cid. "Some guy just banged on the door and said somethin' about a town meeting. You goin'?"

Tifa groaned. "Yeah. I don't want to, but I have to. I know I'm just going to spend the whole stupid time defending why Cloud wasn't here to stop this."

Cid laughed incredulously. "Seriously? What is he, like their personal town guardian?"

"Some of them seem to think so. At least they can't blame him for attracting the monsters this time," Tifa muttered.

"You serious? They're tryin' to blame Cloud for all this?" Cid sputtered. "Tifa, you gotta do somethin' about this! No, I'm gonna do somethin'. I'm comin' with you to that meeting."

"Cid," Tifa said sharply, "I've got it under control."

"Clearly you don't," Cid insisted. "Obviously being polite and respectable ain't cuttin' it with this group."

"And you really think a profanity-laced tirade is the way to convince them?"

"Maybe," Cid said staunchly. "I know you gotta act all civil since you gotta live with these people, but I don't. I can just tell 'em what I really think."

Tifa sighed. "I'm not going to talk you out of this, am I?" she asked finally. "Fine. You can come with, but please let me try my way first." Tifa's light footsteps crossed the kitchen. "Barret, can you take this up to Marlene? She needs to wake up to drink it now. But don't stay too long. She's going to tire easily."

"What? You wan' me to be the one to make her drink that sewage?" Barret asked.

"It might go a little easier if you don't call it 'sewage' in front of Marlene," Tifa said irritably. "She needs it. Man up, Barret."

"What did you…aww that's…you're jes lucky that –"

"That what, Barret?" Tifa asked, a challenge clear in her tone. Marlene stifled a giggle, knowing that Barret was getting one of Tifa's patented looks that he never could stand up to.

"Jes that…" his words faded into mumbles.

"That's what I thought," Tifa said. "Cid, let's go. Barret, bring that up before it gets any later. I'll make her another one in 4 hours."

Marlene was surprised to find that she was too weak to jump up as she usually would have. She braced herself on the wall and stood up slowly. Man, she was really worn out. She shuffled carefully over to the bed and sat down, trying to make herself look alert and comfortable before Barret made it up the stairs. She was just getting settled when the door creaked open and Barret's big head poked through the opening.

Seeing her awake and sitting up, Barret pushed the door open the rest of the way with a big grin. "There's my baby girl! I brought you a…uh…delicious shake!" He held out the thick, lumpy green concoction.

"Delicious shake," Marlene said skeptically as she took it from him. Her hand shook as she held the glass, and she quickly brought up her other hand to help, hoping Barret hadn't noticed. The slight lowering of his brows told her that he had.

"Well, Tifa made it, so it's gotta be, right?" Barret said, but he couldn't look her in the eye.

Marlene sniffed the suspicious drink and wrinkled her nose. It smelled like sour milk mixed with moldy vegetables. "You know, Daddy, I'm not four. You can't trick me into thinking my lima beans are veggie-flavored ice cream anymore."

Barret chuckled fondly. "I know, baby girl. Truth is, it might not taste great, but Tifa says you need it to get your strength back." He stroked her hair with one giant hand. "I heard you were the hero of the day out there."

Marlene shrugged. "I guess I was the only person who could use materia and couldn't fight. I wish I could be like Tifa. She can do everything."

"Naw, don't be doin' that. You did more than anyone to get this town through this." Barret leaned his forehead against hers. "There's a whole lot more to a battle than jes fightin'."

A small smile appeared on her face.

Barret sat back and gestured to the glass in her hands. "Enough talkin' now. Plug yer nose and chug it down."

Marlene was determined to get down the stairs the next morning. She'd made a few trips around her tiny room and been tired out yesterday, but she was bored out of her mind and needed some real stimulation. Visiting with whoever delivered Tifa's horrid nutrition shakes every four hours just wasn't cutting it for her, especially since she she spent a good portion of that time trying not to throw it back up.

She shuffled over to her dresser and pulled open a drawer. She grabbed the first clothes she saw, paying no attention to what they were. She made her way back to the bed and sat down to get dressed. She was obviously still weak and sore, but she refused to sit and stare out the window for another day. Slowly, she pulled on the pants. They were much too big. Most of her clothes were handed down from distant family members or procured from charities, so she was used to ill-fitting garments, but these pants threatened to expose her lacy white underwear if she so much as sneezed.

It had actually taken quite a lot of effort to get them on though, and she didn't have the energy to start the process over again. Instead, she slid a belt through the loops and cinched it tight. She carefully slid the shirt over her head against the objections of her muscles. It was pretty baggy too, but it was good enough for home.

She put her feet down on the cold floor. She had forgotten to grab socks when she was at her dresser, too. She shifted her weight onto her feet and began taking small, slow steps to the door. As she passed her vanity, the mirror caught her eye and she gasped out loud. She leaned closer, tracing a finger over the features that should have been familiar. Her usually rounded cheeks looked hollow. Deep purple rings under her eyes made them even more prominent than usual. Her skin was pale and papery, and her brown hair hung limply around her face. With a shaking hand, she reached out to the purple headband on her vanity and slid it into her hair, hoping for some familiarity. She felt slightly better with the hair out of her face, but the sharp angles of her jaw were only more pronounced. She looked like a shrunken version of the healthy girl she used to see in the mirror.

She decided she didn't care. She wasn't a vain person, after all; she'd just been shocked by her reflection. She used the surface of the vanity to push off and get moving toward the door again. Everything ached, but at least she had a little more strength today. She grasped the railing at the top of the stairs and slowly made her way down. Tifa was in the kitchen tending to a couple of large sizzling pans. Yuffie chopped up a variety of fruit on the counter with her shuriken. Marlene hoped she'd bothered to wash it first.

Yuffie glanced up as Marlene reached the bottom. "Hey kiddo! How ya feeling?" Her attempt at a casual question didn't hide the shock that had flashed across her face when she got her first look at Marlene.

"I'm fine. Great," she said cheerfully. "Do you need any help, Tifa?"

"Oh no, sweetheart," Tifa said with a smile. "You go sit down out in the bar. We've got the whole crew with us for breakfast today!"

"Ok," Marlene said, trying to walk as normally as possible out to the bar area.

"Still nothing on his phone." Barret's deep voice welcomed her as she opened the swinging door. He looked over in surprise, quickly stashing his phone. "Well good mornin', baby girl." He rushed over and pulled out a chair for her, as if she were a lady or an invalid.

Marlene was guessing the latter, but she smiled sweetly as she sat. Vincent and Cid were already seated at the table, Cid with a cigarette tucked in the corner of his lips. He set it down in the ashtray and squinted through the smoke at Marlene.

"You look like hell, girl," Cid drawled, blunt as usual.

"Cid! Do you need another hole in your—"

"It's fine, Daddy," Marlene interrupted smoothly. "I guess I went a little overboard with the materia," she said to Cid.

Cid nodded with approval. "No reason to be ashamed of battle wounds, girl. You earned your stripes the other day."

Barret looked mollified, although he didn't take his eyes off of Cid.

Vincent nodded, solemn as usual. "Yes, I think you can officially call yourself part of Cloud's crew, now."

Barret scowled. Although he had eventually accepted Cloud as the leader of their little group, it was no secret that he had grudgingly given up the reigns.

Marlene looked around the bar, which was empty besides the four of them. "Where is Cloud, anyway? And Denzel?"

The three men exchanged glances. "They're just…uh...well…" Barret waffled.

"They ain't home yet," Cid announced. "And they're not answering the phone."

Barret shot a glare at Cid. "Ya didn't hafta—"

They all turned to look as the front door opened. Then their gazes lowered to see the four-legged animal pushing through. Nanaki padded across the floor and climbed up on a chair at the table. Marlene never could get used to seeing him sitting at the dinner table like a person.

"Good morning," he said calmly. He didn't even give Marlene a second look. "Any news on Cloud?

Barret gave up on trying to protect Marlene from hearing too much. "No, no news."

Tifa walked through the swinging door a moment later with an aromatic platter of sausages, along with heaping plates of eggs and french toast. Yuffie followed behind, her arms loaded with milk, juice, various condiments, and a large bowl of mixed fruit.

"Oh good, everyone's here," Tifa said, but she didn't hide the weariness in her tone. She took her seat and glanced around at everyone, lingering on Marlene.

Everyone began dishing up, but their usual good-natured ribbing was absent. Marlene remembered the last time they had all gotten together. Cloud had tried to hoard a bunch of meat, Barret had yelled at him, and Yuffie had used their distraction to see how much she could pickpocket from the others. She always gave it back, but she enjoyed the challenge, just to see if she still could.

Now the dishes were all passed around in near-silence. The only verbal interaction was between Vincent and Nanaki, as Vincent dished up for the beast without opposable thumbs. Otherwise there was only the sound of spoons clanking against bowls, food plopping on plates, and liquid sloshing in glasses. Marlene waited for the obvious topic of conversation to arise, but after the silence stretched on too long, she decided to bring it up herself.

"So, how are we going to find Cloud and Denzel?"

The adults froze and looked around at each other, silent for a moment.

"I'm sure everything's fine. This is Cloud we're talking about," Yuffie's flippant comment finally came. "Maybe he just decided to take a scenic route or something."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Don't be an idiot, Yuffie," she scoffed. "He knew we were in trouble. He said he'd be home as fast as he could."

Yuffie just gaped at her. Marlene was normally such a sweet girl, and she didn't look like she had enough energy to verbally spar with her; Yuffie couldn't even summon a snarky retort.

"Maybe we should wait a bit longer before we get too concerned," Nanaki suggested calmly.

"No," Tifa said grimly. "He should have been here over 24 hours ago. He's not answering his phone. Marlene's right. Something's wrong and we can't just sit around and do nothing."

Dropping her fork, she got up and went behind the bar, pulling out a rolled-up map. It was made of a flexible plastic, and almost every inch of it had been covered with erasable marker at some time or another. She pinned it against the wall where they could all see it from the table. There was a black line stretching almost from the southwest to the northeast corner. It was relatively straight, although it curved around some geographical obstacles, and the section near the end of the trail appeared to follow a spiral up a mountain. The trail was marked with the distance every 1000 miles, and appeared to have increments of about 100 miles marked between them.

Tifa traced the black line with her finger. "This was the route Cloud mapped out for him and Denzel. The last time I talked to him, he said they were over a day out. Knowing Cloud's driving patterns, that probably put them between 1000 and 1200 miles from home." She marked two spots along the path. "I could hear a river in the background. Within those 200 miles, there are two parts of his route that are close enough to consider stopping at the river – here and here." She picked up a yellow marker and drew two circles within that area, each tangential to the path and the river. "That last contact was 48 hours ago."

"So," Yuffie gulped down a mouthful of food, "then we just have to search along that path? That's not so bad."

"Not quite," Tifa said, turning back to the map. "This route is only certain as long as they were on Fenrir. If something happened to the motorcycle, but they're still able to walk, they would have to find a way to get to the nearest town or at least drivable road for help." Tifa picked up a green marker and peered closely at the map, marking the nearest visible roads and towns to their route.

"These are all really small towns, and the farther they are from Midgar, the less likely they are to have phone service," Tifa said as she drew. "So we can't rule those out as a possibility."

"What do you want us to do, Tifa?" Barret rumbled. "I've already driven out as far as my truck can go along their route. I ain't drivin' it through the forest."

"No, I know you can't. I think we can assume they're not along that stretch of road today. There's enough traffic and enough people with phones that we'd know if they made it this far." Tifa indicated the green lines on the map. "We need to check these alternate routes. They're most likely to be on one of these roads if they needed outside help, but they could be anywhere in between. In some of these places, the road is pretty far from their route and it would take some time to get there."

She looked over to make sure she still had everyone's attention. "We're going to start our search at the point where the Midgar passable roads diverge and Cloud's path splits off into the wilderness, so that will cut off about 150 miles." She drew a flag at the place she had indicated. "Barret, Vincent, and Nanaki will ride together in Barret's truck and split up from there."

Nanaki let out a huff. Tifa gave him a sympathetic smile. "Nanaki, you can ride in the bed of the truck. You won't be trapped inside like you are in my car."

Tifa turned back to the map. "Barret, I need you to follow route A. Stop at any towns or houses you see along the way and ask around. Do your…you know…scary, intimidating thing if you need it to get information."

Barret nodded. "Got it."

"Vincent, I want you to do a flyover of route B. Same thing – stop at any houses or towns along the way and see if anyone has seen them."

Vincent nodded. "Of course."

"Nanaki, at the place where the path diverges, you can follow Cloud's route and see if their scent gets stronger anywhere. We'll put that pouch around your neck with the phone in it and keep an open connection between you and Cid. Yuffie and I will be on chocobo. I'll be halfway between their path and route A, and Yuffie will be halfway between the path and route B, so we'll be on either side of you the whole time."

Yuffie and Nanaki nodded their understanding.

"And Cid. I want you in the airship scanning the whole area. You'll be the point of contact, so if anyone sees anything, they call you. You call everyone else."

She turned to the rest of the group. "Everyone clear on what they're doing?" Five heads nodded back at her.

"Um, Tifa?" Marlene spoke up, sounding stronger than she expected. "What about me?"

"Nuh uh," Barret said, crossing his arms stubbornly. "You gotta stay here and rest, baby girl."

"Tifa?" Marlene implored.

Barret looked like he'd been slapped. He blinked and looked down at his cooling breakfast.

Tifa's eyes met the frail little girl's. She ran a hand over the back of her limp brown hair. "I need you to be here in case Cloud or Denzel calls. Same rules apply for you, ok? If you hear anything, you call Cid and he'll spread the word."

Marlene gave an accepting sigh. It wasn't an important role, but she told herself that Tifa wasn't treating her like a child. Someone did need to be there to answer the phone, and if not her, someone else would have to do it. Tifa was entrusting it to her, even though she was weak and tired. At least Tifa hadn't just told her to rest like Barret had. At least she hadn't insisted on someone staying behind to watch her.

Five phones buzzed, beeped, and vibrated at once. "I've just texted you all the coordinates where we'll meet up with the airship at 7 pm, if we haven't found them by then," Tifa said. "In a minute I'll be individually texting you the coordinates that are your responsibility to cover. There are lunches packed for everyone in the fridge, so you can grab it before you go. Finish eating breakfast, make sure your phones are charged, gas tanks are full, and chocobos are ready. We leave in one hour."

There was only one mechanic in Kilne. A patch stuck to the front of his greasy coveralls proclaimed his name as "Carl" in curly script. He was short and muscular, much like Cloud, but more compact. He was also arrogant, and it was really rubbing Cloud the wrong way.

"Are you kidding me?" Cloud asked irritably. "Why would it take 5 days just to replace—"

"Look, buddy," stated the mechanic condescendingly, "do you know how hard it is to get parts in Kilne? I already told ya we don't have phones out here. How do ya think we get parts? We gotta drive all the way to Arnold, Madora, sometimes all the way to the city—"

"Fine, forget it," Cloud sighed. "Is there anyone with a truck in town? Maybe we can find someone who will drive us back to Edge. I can get it fixed later."

"Just one." Carl smirked. "That'd be Manny."

"Ok, great," Cloud said. "Where can I find Manny?"

"He lives about two miles to the east, out in the country. I s'pose you can leave yer bike here for now, and I'll give ya a lift to Manny's place…for a fee."

"Thanks," Cloud said shortly, "but we'll take it with us. We don't have time to waste coming back for it."

"With those bent handlebars and axle on the country roads? That's more trouble than it's worth, son. For a few gil you can—"

"We'll manage," Denzel said, softening it with a smile. He could see Cloud was near the end of his rope with this guy. It was strange, really. Cloud hardly ever showed emotion, and it was extremely rare for him to lose his temper, but he'd been acting different during this whole trip.

Carl shrugged. "Suit yerself."

Cloud walked the bike out of the garage, barely clearing the doorway before starting it up and climbing on. Denzel scrambled on behind him.

Fenrir had absolutely no interest in getting them home in a hurry. It took 15 minutes to reach Manny's farm as they puttered along, fighting against the axle, and they sunk into several inches of mud before reaching the farmhouse. Cloud groaned, turned off the engine, and swung his leg over the seat. His boots squelched in the sticky mud as he walked quickly up to the front door. He hammered impatiently on the peeled and faded wood. After a few minutes of knocking, their trip was starting to look like a total loss.

Denzel was dreading Cloud's reaction already. He scanned the area around them and caught a flash of movement over by the open barn door.

"Hey Cloud!" Denzel yelled, already running toward the barn. "I think he's in here!"

Running wasn't easy with the mud clinging to his boots like cement, but Denzel got there as fast as he could. He spotted a stooped figure in a checkered flannel shirt, slowly shoveling hay with a pitchfork.

"Excuse me!" he called. "Are you Manny?"

The figure turned slowly and removed his woven straw hat. "Oh. Hello there. How can I help you, young man?"

The man spoke as slowly as he moved. He looked ancient. Tiny eyes were sunken into the deep, craggy lines of his face. His hands were liver spotted. Denzel wondered how fit a man his age could be for farm work.

Cloud appeared behind Denzel, saving him from having to explain their dilemma. The old man's eyes lit up when he spotted him. "Hey. You're Cloud Strife, aren't you?"

A familiar look of dismay crossed Cloud's face. "Uh. Yeah. I guess so."

But they were stranded, relying on the kindness of strangers to get them home. Denzel knew that they could use this to their advantage. "Actually, Manny, he's in the middle of a critical mission, and he really needs your help."

Manny's face spread into a slow smile. "Well I'll be darned," he said, clapping his hat back onto his head. "Anything I can do for the hero of Midgar would be an honor."

"Er…right," Cloud said uncertainly. "Well, we had a little trouble with my motorcycle. We need to get back to Midgar in a hurry, and Carl at the shop says you might be willing to give us a lift back to Edge."

"Edge?" Manny asked, scratching the back of his head. "Edge of what?"

"Umm, the edge of Midgar, actually."

"Midgar?" Manny looked even more confused. "Midgar got smashed by that giant meteor, son."

"Yeah, I know," Cloud said impatiently. "It's built on the edge of the Midgar ruins. Look, we're really in a hurry, so…"

"Oh, sure, of course," Manny agreed, nodding emphatically. "Would you like some tea?"

"No. Thank you," Cloud said, trying not to let his irritation show through his voice. "We need to get home. So would you be able to give us a lift? We'd need to put the motorcycle in the back of your truck."

"Oh?" the old man asked. "If you have a motorcycle, it would probably be a mite faster than Ol' Bessie."

"Yeah," Cloud snapped. "But it's broken. That's why we need a lift from someone with a truck."

"A truck," Manny pondered slowly. "I have a truck! I call 'er Ol' Bessie." His wrinkles split into a smile again.

Denzel could practically see the steam coming from Cloud's ears. He took a step forward and took Manny's hand, gently pulling him toward the farmhouse. "Manny, do you think you could bring us and the motorcycle to the ruins of Midgar in Ol' Bessie? Cloud Strife has an important mission there." He hoped that if he said everything at once, the old man would be able to keep up with the conversation.

"Cloud Strife? Why, he saved our whole planet once!"

"Yes, he did," Denzel said calmly, continuing to pull Manny toward the house. "And you can help him, if you can drive us to the Midgar ruins in Ol' Bessie."

"Oh, why certainly!" Manny said. "Let me just get my keys." With that, he continued on toward the house, muttering to himself. "I'm going to help the hero of Midgar. It's an important mission!"

Cloud pushed a hand through his blond spikes. "Thanks, Denzel. I thought I was gonna lose my mind talking to him."

"No problem," Denzel said with a grin. "I saw the truck around the side of the barn. Maybe we should get Fenrir loaded up while he's getting his keys."

Cloud went back to Fenrir and walked it around the side of the barn. They both eyed the truck doubtfully. It looked like it might have been Manny's first truck, about 80 years ago.

"Are you sure this thing still runs?" Cloud asked.

"Well…Carl sent us out here, so he must have a working truck, right?" Denzel circled the vehicle, wondering if it was possible that Manny had a different one. "Oh, wait! There's tire tracks in the mud here. So it must work."

"Yeah, alright," Cloud sighed. "I'll get it put into the back. Maybe you should check on Manny and make sure he hasn't forgotten what he was doing."

Manny had forgotten. After pulling off his mud-caked boots in the entryway, Denzel found him in the kitchen, in the middle of making himself a sandwich.

After several more gentle nudges and reminders, Manny located his keys and shoes and coat and glasses and driving gloves and seat cushion and was finally out the front door. The three men made their way over to the ancient truck at a glacial pace. They climbed into the cab and Manny spent another couple minutes adjusting the seat and the mirrors and checking the glove compartment and cleaning the windshield. Finally, he turned over the ignition, and Ol' Bessie grudgingly started up.

Just as Manny released the parking brake and put his hand on the gear stick, a small car pulled up into the driveway. "Oh look, Chase is here! Maybe Chase should drive you. You know I'm not as sharp as I used to be." He put the parking brake on again.

"So close," Denzel murmured.

Cloud thunked his head against the window.

Manny rolled down the driver's side window as a tall, skinny man in khaki slacks and a button-down shirt stalked up to the truck. His jet black hair had enough gel for an entire month, which gave Denzel the distinct impression of a sleaze ball. He had a look on his face like there was something nasty-smelling right under his nose.

"Hey!" he demanded. "What do you think you're doing, Pops?"

"Hello, Chase! I was just bringing these nice boys to…" he looked over at Cloud. "Where were we going again?"

Cloud looked past Manny to address the younger man. "We crashed my motorcycle and we need to get back to Midgar Edge. It's an emergency. Manny here agreed to drive us. We'll be happy to pay him for his help."

Chase snorted. "I hope you're not in much of a hurry for this emergency. Ol' Bessie can't go any faster than 30 miles per hour." He shrugged. "It's good enough for Pops."

Manny nodded serenely.

Cloud looked like he was about to explode as he pushed open the door of the ancient truck. He got out and walked around the other side to Chase. "Look, it's really important that we get home immediately. Is there any way you would be willing to drive us to Midgar in your car? I know it's a long way, but I'll pay you 5000 gil. If you could store my bike for a few days, we could come back and pick it up."

Chase smiled. Somehow, that made him look even slimier. He put an arm around Cloud's shoulder and led him away from the truck. Denzel trailed behind them, listening in. "How about you give me your old busted-up bike, and you can keep the car."

"Are you nuts?!" Cloud jerked away from the greasy man. "That car isn't even worth 2000. My bike is a one-of-a-kind custom made—"

"That bike is practically scrap metal right now," Chase argued.

"No. No way. It's not for sale. Look, I'll give you 5000 now and another 5000 when we get to Edge, and then we'll come back for the bike."

Denzel couldn't help wondering where Cloud even planned to get that kind of money, but it wasn't the time to ask.

Chase laughed and shook his head. "I told you my offer. That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

Denzel knew Cloud would never give up Fenrir. That machine was his pride and joy. It was a necessity for his livelihood. It was as much a part of him as his sword.

"Fine."

Denzel's jaw hit the floor.

Cloud gritted his teeth. "Denzel, let's get our stuff off of it and go." He strode off toward Fenrir and began unloading their cargo.

Denzel hurried after him and climbed onto the bed of Ol' Bessie to help him with their bags. "Cloud, are you serious? You can't give up Fenrir! It's…it's Fenrir!"

Cloud looked like he was having trouble holding it together, but he doggedly continued opening the compartments and pulling out their things. It was astounding how much he carried in that one little machine. It was like a clown car. He was accumulating a huge pile of belongings next to him.

"It's not Tifa and Marlene," Cloud said quietly.

He opened the last compartment and pulled out Tsurugi. He quickly assembled the sword and slipped it into the harness on his back. He turned around to face the men who stood and watched them – Chase with a smug grin, Manny with oblivious serenity. Manny beamed at Cloud when he saw him with the sword. It did seem more like his natural state. Denzel always thought Cloud looked incomplete without his sword, like a puzzle with a missing piece.

Fenrir was another piece of him. Denzel shot daggers at Chase with his eyes. That man had no idea what he was taking from Cloud. He only knew that he wanted that bike and that Cloud was backed into a corner. If there was one thing Denzel had learned from the destruction of Midgar, it was that he despised people who took advantage of another's hardship. All of that hate was currently aimed at the man who had smugly stood there and watched as they unloaded the machine. But it was replaced with a surge of satisfaction when Chase stumbled backwards and fell over his own feet into the thick mud. He stared with wide eyes at the man in the red cloak who had materialized beside him.

A smile spread across Denzel's face. "Vincent!"

Author's note - I don't usually do this, but I wanted to say thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed so far. It's a huge encouragement to me when I get stuck or frustrated!

Writing this story has been really challenging for me for a few reasons. First, I'm writing this almost entirely from the perspective of Denzel and Marlene, and it's been a *few* years since I was a pre-teen, so I'm not sure I remember how kids think at that age.

Second, I wrote this at the request of my 10 year old son. Since I'm writing it for him to read, I have to keep it PG and keep it from getting too deep, which the writer part of my brain keeps fighting against.

Flirting with the edges of the Nibelheim mansion story is really making me itch to write that story, but I can't go into much detail in this one because what happens in that mansion would be really dark and definitely not PG. So I have a question for you, my readers: would you like to read something a little darker from me? Or prefer the lighter, family-type stuff? Let me know in the reviews or a PM and I'll decide what to write next. Thanks for your support!