AUTHORS BELOVED NOTES: Okay, took me a while to finish this chapter, sorry everybody! This was supposed to be an angsty-chapter, but instead it turned out kind of funny (or one part it funny, I was snickering writing it!) don't hate me for it okay? STILL no Cloud in this chapter, I know I promised but soon, soooooon. He's just such a complicated fellow.

Some personal notes;

VampireToy, the sweet little darling, made me another heart-warming AMV! I love it thank you so much! And you were totally right about the music!  Looking forward to that fan art! Hope I'll keep on inspiring you love, you sure make this story fun to write!

(that goes for all you wonderful reviewers!)

SweetSnowCherry…etc; Glad I could make you happy! Weeee! Now that makes me feel happy! Everybody wins! Hope you'll like this chapter as well!

Onward to the story!

Yazoo felt better but he was so tired most of the time. He had tried walking around the small room, to the window and back, and his legs carried his weight, but it tired him. But he didn't sleep. He couldn't sleep. It felt like something was… changing. Something was different somewhere but he couldn't pinpoint where or what, and it scared him. At night, when the house was quiet expect from the slow breathings and occasional choughs from the children, he warped himself as tightly as he could in the covers and blankets, hiding in the warm darkness beneath the soft fabric. At those times, he was scared. And he didn't know of what. He just knew he was scared and he wished for Kadaj and Loz to come find him soon, because without them he wasn't safe. None of them was. This was possibly the longest they had ever been apart.
Kadaj could feel it whenever he moved. He tired easily. And the smells had changed. Or possibly it was his sense of smell because Loz said he couldn't smell anything different, but then again, it was Loz, and he usually never paid attention to anything. Staring up at the clouded night-sky, listening to his brother murmuring in his sleep, Kadaj wondered over the fact that he couldn't rest. His body was tired, but his mind was alert, constantly alert. He couldn't relax his thoughts. Perhaps that was why he couldn't sleep. Or maybe he was worried, for his brothers. What would become of them without him? And he was scared and there was no one to confide in. He hadn't told his brothers. He didn't want his burden to be theirs as well.

It's a peculiar feeling he addressed the un-seen stars to be born only to nourish the dead. Live only to be someone else.

He turned his head, watching Loz in his uneasy sleep. He made faces and grumbled, dreaming. Kadaj placed a hand on his brothers face, tracing those lines which was so like his own, and yet so different. Loz muttered something and turned around, but he settled down. Kadaj smiled tiredly.

Will I die? Will what is me, my soul if you will, seize to be? Or was I never an individual to begin with? These feelings, these memories, these thoughts, do they mean anything? Or will they all die with me?

He curled up against Lozs warm back, closing his eyes and admitting to seeking comfort. Loz was so strong, he seemed almost invulnerable at times. Yazoo, on the other hand, was fragile and delicate. What was left for him? Was he a mix of both, or neither?

But you will not die, my brothers, you will not die. And so I will live with your memories.

He could actually sleep for several hours that night.

There was someone in the building that did not belong there. Yazoo sharpened his senses, trying to identify the perpetrator. There were three of them, and they could not be friends of Tifa, for friends don't go in through windows. They where passing through the kitchen, into the living room. Going through drawers and cupboards. Quietly, Yazoo slipped out of bed. Dressed in a pair of borrowed, too big black pants and the black turtleneck Marlene had brought him (which, according to the size-label, was a female model and probably belonged to Tifa) he walked down stairs. He didn't try to sneak up on them, he just moved silently by nature so the sneaking-part was just a natural result.

"What are you doing, if I may ask?" he said quietly.

All three men jumped and snapped their heads around to locate the owner of the smooth voice. Standing in the dark doorway, his silver-hair framing his black-clothed shape and his eyes glowing with that inverted green he was quite the sight, and the men, rough and by the smell dirty, was dumbfounded at this appearance. Then one of the men dropped a cart he was trying to carry off and hissed to the others; "Come one! It's just a girl!"

It was Yazoo's turn to be dumbfounded. Sure, he was slim and his hair might be a bit long but he was quite tall to match so… what? They took him for a woman?

The other two men started to advance on him, trying to push him back up the staircase. Yazoo's eyes functioned well in the dark, and he could all too clearly see the unpleasant looks in the two men's eyes. They where smiling.

"Come on, sweetness" one of them purred, half laughing "Don't make a fuss. Come over here to Mr. Charlie and maybe we won't hurt you"

"You might even like it" the other one finished, hunger radiating from his eyes.

Suddenly, Yazoo realized that these men was planning on raping him. He had to hold his breath not to burst into violent laughter. This might be one of the most bizarre things that had ever occurred to him.

"I would prefer if you would be so kind to put everything back and leave peacefully" Yazoo answered after regaining control of him self "There are sick children trying to sleep here"

Both the men laughed. They had come really close now, and Yazoo hadn't moved an inch. All of a sudden he wondered if it would be wise to let him self be cornered, regarding his current state and all. And these men looked quite strong. But seeing how they seemed to think he was a woman, he had the element of surprise at his side, and that could probably count for a lot.

"Don't be so cold, love" the man who referred to himself as Mr. Charlie´ said "We won't wake the kids if you don't"

"So be reeeeally quiet, ok, darling?" the other one smirked.

They where so close to him now, how could they not notice? And couldn't they hear it in his voice?

"Very well, it's a fair deal" the answered, amused "I won't scream if you won't"

"That's my girl" Charlie said, and launched at Yazoo.

Yazoo hadn't been paying attention to him, but to the other man who was stealing everything of value in the building. Therefore, he didn't have enough time to pull away when Charlie's hand grabbed a rough hold on his wrist. The familiar disgust as the unknown mans skin touched his own flared up inside Yazoo and he felt sick all of a sudden. He twisted out of the mans grip and grabbed a hold of Charlies arm and before the perpetrators even had time to grasp Yazoo threw the man onto the other man, using way more strength then he had intended on. Both men slid over the floor and into the kitchen, coming to a stop first when they hit the tile-wall.

"I'm not a girl" Yazoo growled under his breath before turning his attention to the man third man who was currently standing in the middle of the room just staring at the silver-haired youngster.

"Now you put that down carefully" Yazoo whispered "Otherwise…"

The man did indeed put the box down, but only to pull up a gun. Shaking, he aimed it at Yazoo, who just smiled at his futile attempts at defending himself. Although sick and weakened, a common thief with a gun was no hassle for Mako-regenerated person. But he still stopped. He didn't want the man to fire and hit something. Or wake the kid's up. Yazoo was just about to try and reason with the man, when a soft tschunk was heard and he fell down, unconscious. Behind him stood Tifa with a heavy candelabra in her hand.

"Fucking bastards!" she growled "Stealing from sick kids! Disgusting sewer-rats!"

"What do we do with them?" Yazoo asked.

"There's some rope outside. We'll tie them up and leave them in sector 5, the sector-police will probably pick them up" she said, sitting down in a red armchair.

Yazoo did as she had told without asking anything. She didn't offer to help. He didn't ask. Something was different with her this night. He could sense it. He was good at reading people. When he returned after a not completely uncomplicated prison-transport, she was still sitting in the arm-chair, staring out one of the big windows.

"I see you're well enough to walk around now" Tifa noted, without looking at him.

"Yes" Yazoo answered plainly, not knowing what else to say about the obvious.

"I guess I have to thank you again for looking out for my children" she continued "Thank you"

"I owe you for taking care of me" Yazoo responded.

You don't know the half of it Tifa thought.

Then she burst into tears. Her body trembled and quiet tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped on her t-shirt. She didn't cover her face. She didn't hunch. She didn't make a sound aside from the ragged breaths. She sat there, staring out the window and cried in outmost silent despair.

Loz cried quite often, and he was easy to comfort. By nature, he didn't dwell long on anything and he called down quite quickly. Kadaj, on the other hand, never cried. Not even when they were children and all painful and horrible things were done to him. Only twice in his life had Kadaj cried, and Yazoo never understood why. Kadaj was harder to comfort. You hand to sit with him for hours, sometimes, until he fell asleep. It was like all the hurtful things he carried inside him were let out at once, flooding out of him. The way Tifa cried now reminded Yazoo of Kadaj and he knew he shouldn't leave. She didn't want to be alone, if she had, she would have moved or made him leave. She wanted someone to witness her emotions, and she wasn't ashamed. Yazoo moved closer, as close as he dared. He sat down on a foot-stool next to her. Had he been wearing his gloves, he would have touched her. But without them, the disgust of human contact was just too much, even in a situation like this. She looked at him quickly, as if to approve his presence, then turned back to the window.

"What the hell does he have to take care of that is so fucking more important!" she spoke, her voice sore "Sarah is dead. He already missed the funeral and I have to take care of everything on my own! All the children ask about him. They want him to comfort them! Hell, I want him here to comfort me, but it's not like that's gonna happen, because I always have to take care of everything! They ask about him and what am I supposed to say! No, he had more important things to do then to comfort you. I just…"

She broke off, overwhelmed by tears and spasms. Yazoo didn't reply to anything she'd said. He knew he wasn't supposed to. He didn't even know who she was talking about. But he listened. He sincerely listened and he tried his best to understand her feelings.

"I'm so tired" she managed to say "I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I don't want this anymore. Why does everything have to hurt so much?"

Yazoo almost, almost touched her. He pulled his hand back in the last moment. It was too much. He couldn't do it.

"All those children, upstairs" he spoke softly "They love you. Truly love you. I believe there must be some comfort in that"

Tifa stopped crying and turned to look at him with reddish eyes. She smiled vaguely, then she eyed him and started laughing.

"Why are you wearing my sweater?" she asked, some renegade tears still trailing from her eyes.

AUTHORS EXTENDED NOTES THAT NO ONE CARES TO READ:

Okay, I ended this kind of freaky. There was more dialogue to it, but it just got weird. Again, this was supposed to be a ANGSTY chapter. I didn't really come trough there. I apologize to all you angst-lover out there, I'll try harder next time! Anyhow, I love Tifa, always has (only female main ff character I don't want to stab actually)! And I think she must have a lot of angst, trying to win Cloud over and always being there for him while he's constantly obsessing about Aeris. Stupid Cloud! Also, I hope no one minded me dressing him up in a girl's top. I figured since the seventh heaven burned, and they're at Aeris old house, and Aeris lived alone with her mom, there wouldn't be much male clothing lying around. Why doesn't he just wear his old clothes you ask? Well, it wouldn't be all to comfortable sleeping in leather, now would it? Okay, I think that might be all!

Oh! And all you sharp-eyed people might have noticed that the titles of the chapters are often (I think there's one exception) the names of Creed-songs! So I take no credit for the titels (except maybe one).