This is my advertisement for the actual book by Dickens. It's truly an amazing, captivating story, and it's a quick read as well. I've seen tons of movie adaptations throughout my life (I personally loved the Muppets one, hehe) but only read the original book last year. The original is truly the best. The entire story can easily be found online, so if you have time this winter try taking it for a spin.
~Stave Three:The Second of the Three Spirits~
The nonexistent bell began to ring once more.
Cloud's eyelids snapped open. He was lying once more on his bedroll, though for the life of him he could not remember how he got there. His arm felt extra tender, as if the geostigma had acted up recently. For Cloud the disease was progressing faster than in most people, where the symptoms took a more gradual toll on the body and he couldn't help but think there was reason behind this. He frowned. Perhaps he had fainted from the geostigma sapping his strength. That wouldn't have been the first time. Maybe he hit his head and was suffering from amnesia.
"Get up, you lazy butt! Are you gonna make me wait here all day? How rude!" There was an over-the-top round of rather unfeminine laughter. "I mean, how 'Reno'!" More laughter, then a loud snort.
Cloud sat up and turned in the direction of the familiar voice. Then he froze, gawking at the scene displayed before him.
Had he not known better, the swordsman would have said he wasn't in the church. Perhaps it'd be closer to the mark to say he was in a coniferous forest. Every inch of cold stone was hidden from view, from the ivy wrapped about columns to holly garnishing the pew ends. Boughs of pine and fir, still fresh and glistening with dew, hung from archways and gave the air a fresh evergreen scent. Flaming torches were set in sconces along the walls, bathing the church in warm light.
But nothing compared to what was located in the church's center. Yuffie Kisaragi, ninja extraordinaire, had gone far beyond herself this time. A pile, nay a mountain of materia had been compiled next to the flowerbed, casting its own explosion of colors that rivaled the torches in intensity. Red, green, blue, yellow, purple… every materia that ever existed seemed to have been accumulated in one place. And for what purpose? Seemingly for a throne, since the ninja herself sat at the very peak looking as content as a cat in cream.
"Yuffie?"
The girl ginned cheekily. "Nope! I'm the Ghost of Christmas Present!" As with the first Ghost, this one looked and acted eerily similar to one of his teammates. The only thing amiss was that she wore a crown of laurel over her short black hair instead of the usual headband.
Cloud grimaced at the title of another supernatural visitor. Still, knowing Yuffie… He eyed the figure warily. He couldn't be sure this wasn't some elaborate scheme, her idea of "get-backs" for never answering her phone calls.
"Then how do you know the Turks?" he asked skeptically.
"Duh, I know everybody! You could to if you put some effort into it." The figure jumped nimbly off the glowing mountain. When both feet touched the ground the floor shook and the wood groaned, belying the mass of the petite figure. The Ghost started to move forward, stopped itself with a jerk, turned around to pocket a few glowing orbs, and then skipped over.
"Come on! There's so much to see and so little time!"
Cloud had already gone with "Vincent" and wasn't in the mood for another similar adventure, even if this Spirit seemed like more favorable company. The subject of his present, which was obviously going to be the focus judging from that this Yuffie said, was not something he wanted to review. Why waste the time, for no matter where he'd be taken it would only serve to make him more miserable.
Like the last visitor the Spirit appeared to read his thoughts. "No way! You're not getting out of this one, buddy!" Before Cloud could state his objections aloud it tackled him, leaping quickly onto his back.
Now Cloud was a muscular man and had been infused with mako energy that augmented his innate strength, but the sudden weight made him stagger. Before he knew it Cloud was flat on his stomach being compressed against the ground by an individual who certainly should have weighed less than three Barrets. This being was certainly more than met the eye.
Mercifully the weight lifted, allowing him to take huge gulps of much-needed air.
"Oh stand up, you big baby! Look at all the fun you're missing!"
They were outside in the middle of a clogged city street. The Spirit had transported them to Edge.
Edge had never been a pleasant town. It would take a long time for it to ever be entitled 'pleasant', since its very existence was linked to tragedy. Those who had survived Meteorfall built the city more out of bitter determination than hope during the first few months. Slowly the pain faded and the Midgar refugees attempted to scrape together a new life, though they lived with the grim reminder of that terrible day only a few scant miles from their doorsteps. But now, with the geostigma plague that had spread to the far corners of the world a mere year after that terrible calamity descended from the sky, people were once more clutching to survival.
Yet today was different. There was snow in the streets, though much of it had turned into slush under the multitude of boots hastening through the streets. The weather wasn't fouling anyone's mood. Somehow an undercurrent of optimism streaked through the pollution and despair. Men walked straighter and women smiled more openly. Children scampered underfoot with shrieks of laughter, the ruckus only adding to the overall pleasantness. Christmas Day.
A half dozen or so teenagers were involved in a snowball fight that seemed to have been progressing for some time. Forts fashioned out of snow, wooden crates and even a motorcycle were situated around the large Meteorfall monument in the center of the city. The other inhabitants of Edge, too taken by the Christmas spirit to be much annoyed, were giving the area a wide berth. Yuffie cheered as a tall redheaded girl hit a boy -taunting his friends from his perch on the monument- squarely in the face.
"I love snowball fights! Wish we could join them," the Ghost chatted. "But there're way too many things to see. Just one moment..." It reached into its pocket and pulled out a Blizzard materia. At once the trampled, dirty snow changed back to its original state and even increased in volume so there was even more ammunition for the teens' winter frivolity.
"Alrighty, back to business!" The Ghost exclaimed. It tugged Cloud down the street, beaming at the cheer that was being displayed everywhere the eye could see. Couples and groups clogged the area. Some were peering casually through the front windows of shops, some hustled about collecting the last few ingredients for Christmas dinner, while others were content to sit on a nearby stoop, drink hot chocolate and swap stories with friends. The normal irritated shouts and cusses of the city were exchanged for more courteous greetings and nods.
"Mm hmm… Do you smell that?! Ginger bread!" The Ghost squealed and darted over to the nearby bakery where a warm, wonderful aroma wafted out into the street.
Nurturing the strong feeling that he was babysitting Cloud headed towards the shop, forgetting as he tried to maneuver around the crowds that he wasn't physically there. Not really. Only after a man carrying a large box passed straight through him did Cloud remember and decide to take the more direct route.
The Ghost came out –through the window display- of the bakery just as Cloud made it to the store. In its hands was a large slice of streaming ginger cake coated in confectioner's sugar. It took a large bite and chewed, moaning its approval.
"Want some?" it asked, talking with a mouth full of food and proffering the bitten slice.
"No thanks," responded Cloud, wondering how the Ghost managed when Cloud hadn't been able to touch anything solid.
He looked around with as the Ghost stuffed its face. Why was he actually feeling guilty that he was missing Christmas, that he otherwise wouldn't have gotten to see this version of Edge? That was what he had planned after all, to stay away from those whom he had disappointed in his inadequacy. His presence would be a blemish on the holiday.
"Okay then, let's go see some familiar faces," said the cheery Ghost in direct contrast with his thoughts.
"Yuffie…"
"Are you stupid or something? I told you already, I'm not Yuffie! And you can't talk yourself out of this, so don't even try."
Even though he was prepared this time, the Ghost knocked his breath away when it jumped at him.
They were inside now, in a shabby room Cloud didn't recognize. Kids of all ages were gathered here, tearing up colorfully wrapped packages in childish frenzy while a few weary caretakers looked on in content exhaustion. Some of the children were clustered around a seated individual whom appeared to be the source of all the gifts. Cloud craned his head but couldn't see around the children to discover the person's identity.
Who he did see, unfortunately, were the Turks. Reno, Rude and Elena were grouped against the wall nearby, staying out of the children's play. Or perhaps the kids were conscientiously avoiding them so it looked that way. In any case, if the Turks were here Cloud had a good idea who was in that seat.
"Wow, the boss is certainly caught up in this crap," Reno whispered, gesturing to the man in the center of the room.
A scrawny curly-haired boy moved out of the way and now Cloud could see. Rufus Shinra -who in addition to his usual white suit was wearing red gloves, a matching scarf and a green Christmas Elf hat with a bell dangling at the end- was surrounded by a mob of tremendously excited children squabbling for presents.
Ever since the events a year ago the miserly owner of the Shinra Electric Company had been attempting to make up for his and his father's negligence. Besides overseeing the decontamination of various mako reactors all over the planet as well as financially backing much of Edge's construction, Rufus was donating toys to the city's orphanage for Christmas. And seized by the holiday magic he decided to go and hand out the gifts personally.
Cloud refused to buy the "reformed nice guy" act.
"Can't you get with the Christmas spirit, Reno?" muttered Elena, casting the other Turk a sideways look.
The redhead grinned suddenly. "Look Laney, mistletoe," he said, pointing over to the doorway where Cloud was standing. The swordsman looked up and discovered a chuck of foliage pinned over the opening. Then he quickly nudged further away when he saw the Ghost eyeing him mischievously.
"Why don't you help me get into the 'Christmas spirit' right now?" Reno finished, his smile widening.
Elena's retaliatory smack, Reno's yelp and Rude's laugh disguised as a cough hardly disturbed the children, though Rufus did glance disapprovingly in their direction.
"So how did Tseng get out of this?" Reno asked sourly after having recovered from the hit on his head- as usual, Elena hadn't held back at all. "The guy's probably relaxing back at his apartment off duty like the rest of the freaking world, while we have to watch the boss fulfill his odd Santa Claus fetish. Betcha it's from not having a loving father figure."
"He's not the one playing Santa Claus," Rude observed in his deep voice. The tall, bald Turk lowered his sunglasses in order to get a better view of the red-clad figure entering the room. Despite the white beard and drastic change of clothing, identity of the man wasn't difficult to determine. There was a long, sleek wave of black hair under the Santa Claus' hat.
"Holy heck, yo! It's Tseng!"
The three Turks began hooting with laughter at the sight of their leader, whom they had never seen out of the customary blue tux. That laughter was abruptly cut off when Tseng sent a cold glare at his subordinates, though Reno's shoulders continued to shake with pent-up glee.
"This is the best Christmas ever," he whispered, nudging Rude with his elbow as they watched Tseng and Rufus finish handing out presents.
"See, even your supposed enemies are spreading Christmas cheer," the Ghost said to Cloud.
Cloud grunted. A few gifts weren't enough to atone for a lifetime of callous deeds. If the mighty Rufus wanted to help so badly he should put more heat into finding a cure for geostigma. Nearly a quarter of the orphans in this room had signs of the disease, either the beginnings of dark smudges appearing on their skin or big sections of their limbs and faces covered in bandages.
"Okay, Mr. Grumpy, let's see how your friends and family are doing."
That was the last place he wanted to go. But even so… He couldn't help but be curious as to how Tifa and the others were doing.
He sighed. "Let's go, then."
The Spirit grinned and made a show of getting ready to pounce on him. It laughed when Cloud flinched away and exclaimed, "Just kidding!"
The surroundings blinked and they were standing in the bar of Seventh Heaven.
Cloud turned and frowned at his companion. "You didn't have to touch me to transport us that time?" he asked.
"Nah, I never had to. You're just fun to tackle." She directed a huge smile to counter Cloud's scowl.
He looked around the room. The bar was clearly closed for the day; blinds were drawn across the windows and the stools were piled atop the tables. But light filtered under the closed door on the other side of the room that led to the living quarters. He walked through the door –he wasn't comfortable enough going through the wall like the Ghost- and trod past the staircase into the living room.
It seemed that Tifa had finally broken down and at the insistence of the children, as well as a few pushes from the more childish adults, allowed an actual tree to replace their artificial one. Why not, if it made their first Christmas in Edge special and if Cid was enthusiastic enough to get off his rear to cut down a tree and deliver it. Too bad the pilot was never the most punctual.
Cid had brought the tree the day of the gathering, when there was already so much to get ready for that night: rooms to spruce up, dinner to prepare, and now the living room where they would exchange gifts needed to be decorated for the festivities. Needless to say everyone was a bit short-tempered from the stress.
"Barret, stop moving. It's not in place yet," admonished Tifa. The woman was on her hands and knees trying to stabilize the tree in its stand.
"That d&% Cid should be the one doing this. It's his fault the decorations ain't up!" grumbled Barret through the tall pine tree he was propping upright.
Though most of the old team plus a few others were expected for the Christmas get-together that evening only Tifa, Barret and the kids were currently in the room. An old radio in the corner played an upbeat holiday song. Marlene was coaxing Denzel to sing with her, which eventually did though it was mostly moving his lips. After Denzel she tried working on the others.
"Daddy, Tifa," she called in her adorable voice. "Sing with us!"
"Not now Marlene, I'm puttin' up the tree," Barret said. The rest of the team always made fun of how the hulky man's tone changed when he talked to his adopted daughter: gentle and nowhere near his usual volume- and God forbid if anyone used profanities within earshot. The hypocrite.
"What's wrong with that Cid?" Barret continued to grumble.
"It can't be helped, Barret," said Tifa. "Cid did his best. Besides, he's busy collecting the rest of the group now. There we go," she added as the last brace was secured. She stood up and dusted the pine needles off her skirt. Thousands more covered the wooden floor. She looked at the mess and then up at Barret.
"Hell no, I ain't cleanin'," replied the man, backing away.
"Barret, please," Tifa said with a sigh. "I need to finish the sleeping arrangements, and the shower could use a good cleaning. And I'm already behind on the food."
Barret made a huffing noise. "Would be easier if Cloud was around. Where'd that good for nothing spike-head run off to anyway?"
The temperature of the room seemed to drop at the man's words and Cloud fought the embarrassing urge to flee. Tifa's eyes left Barret's face to look out the window, her face melancholy. The children stopped scrounging through the box of ornaments to gaze at the adults. For a moment the only sound in the room came from the radio.
"I'm not sure. He stopped answering his phone a couple weeks ago. He's been distant for a while now. Ever since…" She trailed off.
"Tifa, we'll clean up," offered Denzel in a tentative voice. He had a guilty facial expression, as if he blamed himself for Cloud's disappearance, and he was relieved that no one noticed. Well, no one physically there noticed.
"Yeah, we can do it! We're lots of help," added Marlene, hopping to her feet.
The woman gave a weary smile. "I know you are, sweetie. Thanks."
Tifa left through the door with Barret grumbling in her wake. The two children began to sweep the needles off the floor with their hands, Marlene holding in squeaks every time one poked her.
"Here, let me pick up the needles," said Denzel. He ran over to the small closest and got out a battered broom. "You can handle the broom, Marlene. Make little piles so I can pick them up."
After the children cleared the mess Tifa returned with glasses of eggnog for her helpers. Some stomping upstairs indicated that somehow she had conscripted Barret's help in the cleaning process.
While children drank the sweet creamy treat, Tifa began opening the remaining boxes she had been purposefully ignoring. They were full of strings of exterior lights, the ones she had made Cloud promise to put up for her. She knew it was silly, waiting so long when it was obvious he wasn't going to turn up. But… maybe she could wait an hour or two longer. She could always make Cid do it when he'd decide to show up.
"Who wants to start decorating the tree?" Tifa asked, closing the box of lights and pushing them back into the somber corner.
"I do!" exclaimed the little girl. She ran to the couch where a line of her favorite decorations lay in wait. A delicate glass angel was selected and brought over to the tree. But Marlene hesitated. "Denzel, you put the first one on."
The boy looked surprised. His friend gave a smile and sifted through the cardboard box to find the toy soldier ornament he had his eye on earlier.
"So, how come you don't want to join them, Baggyemopants?" the Ghost asked, prodding him in the chest. He actually stumbled back a couple paces. "These people certainly want you here." It gestured with a flourish at the children, who had decided to put their favorite ornaments on at the same time, and then at the adults, who were watching with content smiles overlaying their worldly troubles.
"They're doing fine without me in their way." He was sure the night's celebration would pass splendidly whether he attended or not. No one would miss him.
"You sure about that? 'Cause I have evidence that says different."
At the Spirit's words time sped around him like a spinning vortex. Images past by in such a frenzy at first he couldn't process them. Then they seemed to slow to a more manageable speed, though they still retained a bleached, unfocused quality. Accompanying them were voices he knew very well. All of the phone messages he had ignored for the last month echoed loudly through the air, simultaneously yet each still distinguishable from the rest. It wasn't the words that mattered as much as the emotions with which they were spoken: strained cheerfulness, worry, concern, even longing. Everyone had wished he had answered instead of having to talk to his voicemail.
Scenes began playing in short bursts. Cloud in Midgar walking back to his motorcycle and discovering a young boy unconscious on the ground. Now they were on their way to Edge, where Tifa demanded him to bring the boy for care. Both of them realizing the orphan had geostigma, and debating whether it was safe to allow him to stay. Then jumping to a week later, where Denzel had been easily integrated into their lives, though his deteriorating health was an increasing concern. Cloud deciding he was going to find a cure. Him locked in his office all night, pouring over books and research articles with fervent intensity. The beginnings of his travels to every continent in search of the answer that was evading him, becoming even more stubborn as each day passed.
Finally, realizing that in his reckless search he had contracted the disease. Hiding the fact at all costs. Beginning to weaken from the disease. Tifa believing his fatigue was just from his ceaseless journeying and begging him to take a break. Eventually having to leave Edge when the signs and symptoms became too obvious.
That last scene was slower than the rest. Cloud was sneaking out of Seventh Heaven before dawn, leaving with the intention of not returning. Despite his care, Tifa had somehow caught him.
"What's wrong?" she asked, seeing his guilty expression.
The swordsman didn't know how to tell her.
She knew something about him was different, but couldn't guess the real reason why he was running.
"I have to go, Tif," he told her, turning towards the dark shape of Fenrir resting against the house.
"Cloud, wait." A gentle hand on his arm, right above the mark he was hiding. He felt it corroding his flesh and wondered if Tifa could sense the evilness that had infected him.
"I can't stay here anymore. I can't wait and hope this will get better on its own. I need to do something." He needed action, needed to feel the wind on his face and his hands on the throttle. Physical motion was some kind of progress, even if it was an illusion.
"There's no need to go alone. You're part of a team, remember? You have a family."
A family I can't protect.
The motorcycle veered down the street without its driver looking back once. If he had, he would have seen the dejected look on Tifa's face. He might have seen the silhouette of the boy watching from the upper story.
The resolution of the world sharpened and he was back in the living room of Seventh Heaven. Marlene had found a big pink ribbon and was getting Tifa to tie it into her braid. Had the girl's eyes been green she could have passed for a miniature Aerith.
"Even if they want me," Cloud amended, "I still can't give them what they need." He gazed at the close-knit group, to Denzel specifically, whom he had been previously trying not to take notice of. The geostigma mark on his forehead had gotten darker since he last saw him. It seemed to be spreading too.
"Are you sure you know what they need from you?" remarked the Ghost.
Cloud was taken aback by the comment. Of course he knew what they needed, what his job was. Denzel, Tifa, Marlene… they were all counting on him to find the cure to save Denzel. But not only had he failed in that regard, he also contracted the disease himself.
A solid round object hit Cloud in the head. Did the Spirit really just throw a materia at him?
"What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing his aching temple.
"Darn, I was hoping that'd knock some sense into you. I guess I can't help," it said with a shrug. "Maybe the next Ghost will-"
"No. No more ghosts." He had enough of this. Even now that he knew how much he was missed, he was far too embarrassed to return now. He hadn't talked to let alone seen any one of his friends for weeks. What would they do if he showed up without an explanation or anything meaningful to show for himself?
The Spirit gave a Yuffie-like pout. Seventh Heaven was replaced by the Church in the Slums. All the organic decorations remained but the torches had been extinguished, leaving the interior dark and cold.
"You think a cure for geostigma is hard to come by," scoffed the Ghost of Christmas Present. "How about finding a cure for thick-headedness." It hoped on top of the mountain of materia and twirled around to face Cloud. "I'm heading off now. For your sake, and the world, I hope you get your act together."
With a flash of intense light the materia and the spectral being were gone.
I'd like to give a big thanks to Soldier de Veritas and pyrotechnix for reviewing and participating in my contest! You guys rock! For everyone else out there, including the apparent 80+ people who've read this fic, the contest (see bottom of last chapter) is still going on until next week so please don't be shy. And I'd love any reviews or critiques, or even a quick "hi, merry Christmas!"! This story is especially written for all of you (no, I'm not writing this for my health ;D) and I want to hear what you think!
