Back Again
He's stopped at the inn in Kalm. It's too dark to go any further, and his head is buzzing with unanswerable questions. His arm is aching, yet even that pain won't block out the swirling thoughts and revelations of the day.
Cloud absentmindedly shuts the patterned curtains. It is dark and quiet now, the street-lamp light no longer spills into his room. He takes solace in the dark and the silence, trying to will his tired mind into falling into a similar state of quiet.
It doesn't work.
He sighs and rubs his temples with one hand. There's too much going on, and even now he feels as if his fragile grip on reality is slipping away. He want's to be numb again, to take each day as it comes. The long journeys and many deliveries allowed him to wallow in his weariness without baring the full brunt force of his guilt for the faith that he does not deserve from the ones who care.
But his mind is whirling, alive, and he has no choice but to listen to its questions.
Why was the she there?
That woman had died two years ago. His memories of her are vague and hazy, he has not thought about her for a long time.
Cloud sits on the quilt-covered bed and kicks off his shoes. How was it possible that she had ended up in the Northern Crater, where Reno said they had found her? Granted, he did not know how much of what the Turk had said was true. There was certainly a lot that Cloud had not been told, but he expected no less.
If she really was found in the Crater, that would presumably explain the mako poisoning. The Northern Crater was a natural fountain of lifestream. When she had died, her body had fallen into the mako at the bottom of a Reactor, which could also explain how she had ended up at Crater, but not why her spirit still inhabited her body.
And the Jenova cells?
For he had felt them there, pulsating softly under her skin, barely even detectable.
He blinks into the darkness, and finds himself lying back. His body is weary and sore, even if his mind is not yet sleeping.
Cloud does not remember the first time he met her; it was long ago. She was a Turk then, and he was nothing more but a Soldier grunt, walking in the shadow of a better man then himself. That part of his life is also hazy, he had forgotten it completely for a while, when he assumed the persona of Zack. Even now it still comes back only as fragments.
He suspects that's the reason why he did not recognize her when he first joined Avalanche.
It was the reason for a lot of things.
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He awakens, staring at a ceiling with an old-fashioned fan turning slowly. He is warm, and he finds the sensation both foreign and familiar at once. Sitting up slowly, he gazes about the small room. It is clean but shabby.
A large, black man glares at him from across the room.
'Hrmph, don' want no trouble from yer spiky arse, got it?' He stalks out of the room noisily.
The door barely closes before opening again, this time to a young woman with long dark hair, wearing an apron. Her eyes widen at the sight of him, soon replaced by a small smile.
'Hey…how're you feeling?'
Not her, he knew who she was straight away.
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He is surprised at the late addition to their team. He hasn't seen her before, not in the rough, unorganized meetings held underneath the bar.
Wedge smiles nervously, gesturing at the newcomer.
'Hey Cloud, this is Sho-'
The woman cuts him off.
'Grace, it's Grace now, remember?'
'Oh yeh-heh.' Wedge replies, with a nervous tic in his voice. Cloud gets the impression that the plump man often makes this mistake. Her clear green eyes turn to him.
'…Cloud…it's been a long time…'
'What?'
She hadn't questioned his lack of memory. He guesses she felt guilty, considering what was on her hands, but he places no blame on her. It was only after Biggs let it slip that she was a former Turk had he felt some sense of recognition. But he had not allowed the thought to develop, and so it was pushed away.
He had believed it unimportant.
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By far, she had been the most professional of them. She moved stealthily, she held her shotgun with steady handed confidence and calm that could only come with long years of experience.
He remarked that she seemed to know her way around the Reactor and she had looked at him coolly.
'They're all built the same, really.'
He had wondered briefly what other Reactors she had been in. Only special Shinra personnel were usually allowed inside. That meant Soldiers or Turks.
It turned out to be the latter.
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When she was shot he felt nothing. Shock, if anything. One moment she was moving purposefully along the Reactor ramp, the next moment holding her hands to her belly as blood poured out.
She had staggered back, falling against the railing, eyes wide in surprise.
Her lips had moved, more blood spilling forth even as she spoke.
'G-go-'
Barret had run forward, too late though, she was already slipping on her own blood. Weakly, she clutched at the railing, doubled over.
Too late.
She keeled over the railing, off balance, wavering, and then falling, falling. He had grabbed Barret's jacket roughly and dragged the big man away; they were still being shot at. Bullets chinked off the steel wire ramp.
The bomb was set. They had to get out.
He hadn't even paused to watch her descent. The second she had slid over and Barret had not grabbed her, he had run. He had wanted to live.
They had been quiet when they had reached the bar. Barret had gone off fuming. He had taken every assult on Avalanche as some sort of personal wound to his own person. Biggs and Wedge had concentrated on eating; stony eyed, speaking carefully when he had questioned them. The other woman, Jessie, had cried silently as she worked on her computer. Tifa had sighed, resigned and sad.
He had understood so little then.
The sunlight streams into the Piano Room brightly today, bathing it in a warm, yellow glow. Large windows, no longer smashed or boarded up, line the wall. Tifa smiles as she watches the children wrestle to be the first in line for breakfast.
'You kids quieten' down now, no pushing!'
The big, burly woman serving up porridge scowls at the hungry children. They become subdued at the sound of her booming voice, but only for a moment. Someone will step on anothers toes and the squabbling will break out again.
Children, she thinks, are the same everywhere.
Edge is no different.
And yet, she would not have them any other way. The kids remind her to be happy, to be thankful for all that she has. Despite their hardships, they smile, and Tifa strives to do the same, even if sometimes it is a little forced.
Because, even if he is not here, even if he does not care about her or about having a family, Tifa knows that they do. And, for the moment, it is enough for her to be their guardian, their mother, their provider.
These slum kids remind her that there is a future.
Eventually, all the kids are served. They scurry to take their seats at the long table, wolfing down their food in a way that that reveals their young lives have not been easy. The matron, finished for the moment, takes her own bowl to sit next to Tifa.
'Seems like you've got you're work cut out for you Annie.'
'Ungh, tell me about it' the matron replies, her voice a deep baritone 'They're all hyped up 'cause you're here. Specially the boys.'
Tifa shakes her head, suppressing a smile. Gospel was made up of the older Slum kids she had managed to coax off the streets. They would be a handful in any case. The suffocating, melancholy atmosphere of Edge seemed far away in the face of the Nibel mountain range. The small mountain town was completely foreign to them, and they loved it.
'Ok, what do you girls want?'
She turns at Annie's voice to see three girls hovering nervously at her shoulder. They look to be fourteen or so, and they are hesitant to meet Tifa's eyes.
The shortest one, hair in messy pigtails speaks up hesitantly after looking at her friends for confirmation.
'Uh…we wanted to…uh…welcome Miss Lockhart here…'Tifa smiles reassuringly, warmed by their curiosity, and nods for her to go on.
'umm…'
Her friend continues on.
'-and we were wonderin' if-uh!' The girl stops abruptly and all three titter nervously before stepping back.
'Goodbye!''Nice to meetchya.'
They run quickly away, leaving Tifa perplexed. The children in Edge are not like this, when they want something they say it out straight. She turns to question Annie, only to find the woman struggling to keep in a barking laugh as Vincent seats himself beside her.
'Should I ask?' She raises an eyebrow.
Annie chuckles deeply. Vincent begins to calmly eat his porridge.
'Some of them girls have developed slightly amorous feelings towards Mr Valentine, here-' The large woman laughs again. Tifa's eyes widen. She raises a hand quickly to her mouth to stem the astonished laughter that threatens to bubble over. A quick glance at the man reveals a slight frown of annoyance upon his otherwise passive features.
Tifa struggles to regain composure, biting her lip as catches the matron's eye. They both snicker again and Tifa can't remember the last time she laughed like this with old friends.
It feels good. Pleasant, refreshing.
'I'll be off, scamps will slack off if I dinna keep an eye on them.'
Annie excuses herself, leaving to supervise the breakfast cleanup.
Gazing around the old room, Tifa can't help but marvel at the impressive change that is being wrought over the former mansion. It is nothing like the demon haunt whispered about in her childhood days, nor the decrepit place of shadowed nightmares they had journeyed to two years ago. There was laughter in these halls now, oblivious to the horrors that had once lurked below.
She wonders what Vincent see thinks of the change, and whether or not he can see it without the tarnish of past memories. She sighs.
'It's changed so much…' she says softly, almost to herself. Her eyes linger on the old grand piano, lodged in a corner, which gave the mess hall its name. Annie said that she had got it retuned, but Tifa hasn't had the chance to test it out yet '…you've done a wonderful job.'
'I have, in fact, done very little. It was Annie and the townsfolk who should be credited.'
Tifa offers him a small smile.
'You have helped though, immensely. I…I am very grateful for it.'
He nods, gaze now roaming around the room. Tifa notices that one of the young girls from before lingers as she clears away plates, throwing barely concealed glances at the immaculate man beside her. Tifa bites her lip yet again and tries not to chuckle. Vincent has noticed all this, carefully ignoring both the girl and her own laughter.
'You should be flattered.'
'hmm…'
'They don't mean any harm. Young girls are most often more mature then boys their age, so they become infatuated with men beyond their years. They'll grow out of it soon, you'll see.'
'Are you speaking from personal experience, 'Miss Lockhart'?' He gives her an appraising look. She laughs softly and look down.
'Maybe.' She glances up 'Mind you, Yuffie seemed to go through such a phase too, so surely you can't be completely unfamiliar with the concept.'
'hn…' and she laughs again because he knows what she is talking about. Yuffie had barely concealed her admiration for Vincent and Cloud alike by repeatedly annoying them to strangling point.
They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, and Tifa wonders if she should spend more time away from Edge. The city, for all it was built on the promise of a future, holds a thick air of hopelessness about it. She sighs inwardly, knowing she cannot afford to stay away. She is needed at Seventh Heaven, the children there are ill and dying, and need a mother to give them comfort against their fear.
Vincent breaks the silence with his deep, quiet voice.
'I will be leaving soon, there are…matters of which I must tend to.'
'Of course.'
'Reconstruction can be completed unhindered now, I've removed all the…documents needed.' He stands, still looking out the window 'and you needn't fear of any more hidden laboratories, this building is free of them, now.'
She too stands, taking his empty bowl from his hands.
'Thank you, I…jus-just thank you, for all you've done.' Her face is serious, and she finds it hard to convey the immense gratitude she feels. It would have been hard for him, to face this place, with all its tainted memories. She is thankful he has helped make it possible for this place to begin anew.
Vincent turns to face her, void of expression until he blinks and inclines his head towards her.
'It is a good thing you are doing here, Tifa. Farewell.'
'Take care too, Vincent.' She replies softly, before he walks to the door, red cape trailing behind him. She lowers her eyes, picking up her own plate before heading to the kitchen, where the noise of children chatting and laughing could be heard.
She cannot help but agree with him.
The young boy leaps forward, brandishing his long spear at the monstrous creature before him. It snaps it's long fangs at him as he swipes the spear across the beast's face. He blinks rapidly, refusing to acknowledge the twist in his gut that tells him to run.
Yowling, the creature pounces, and the boy barely has time to throw himself to the side to avoid its claws. Scrambling to his feet, he raises the spear threateningly, shaking it so that the bright beads and colourful feathers jangle. It yowls again and swipes out, the boy thrusts the spear forward, jabbing at its chest area before jumping back to avoid another swipe.
It shakes out its tattered mane, bristles its mangy fur and stretches out skeletal limbs.
He grips the wooden shaft tightly with sweaty hands; eyes locked onto the gleaming yellow ones of the creatures. Panting heavily, he and the creature slowly circle one another.
It is a dead soul, a remnant of the feared Gi Tribe, which haunts the catacombs of Cosmo Canyon.
He bares his teeth threateningly, afraid and defiant of this dead but living creature. He is a guardian of this place. He will be strong enough to protect it.
The boy darts forward again, slashing at the creature's face. It shrieks and swipes deadly claws at his legs. Throwing himself forward, he uses his hands to flip his body over the ground and away from crippling slashes. On his feet, he dashes again, thrusting the spear deep into its side.
Ripping the weapon out, the creature twists and screams in pain. It's yellow eyes stay fixed on him, and he tries hard not to shake as he readies his spear once again.
A death leap, straight for his throat. He steps forward and shoves hard, letting out a fierce bark from the back of his throat. Brittle bone splinters and decaying flesh is torn as the spear lodges into the monster's mouth, tearing out the back of its skull.
It gives out a massive shudder, before its body sighs, collapsing as its eyes grow dim and fade out. The boy hefts out his spear, watching as the husk crumples and deteriorates before his eyes. He staggers back himself, legs turning to rubber as he backs into the cavern wall, sliding to the ground in exhaustion.
He can only stare at the black ash he had just fought. For the moment, his brain is numb with what he has just accomplished.
A low rumble sounds next to his ear and he turns, startled.
'Well done, young cub, you fought bravely.'
The young boy smiles shakily, and tries to stand. He feels a surge of warm pride wash over him at the Elder's praise. It was hard earned.
'Th-thank you, Elder Nanaki, I-'
His knees collapse, and he falls ungracefully onto the thick furred back that has just moved beside him. He blinks away tears of frustration, shamefaced at this show of weakness in the face of his victory.
'Grab a hold, M'hari, do not be embarrassed. Your body tells you to rest so you must, but not here.'
Gratefully, the lad seizes a chunk of fur with one hand, using the other to pull himself up with his spear. He manages to stay standing, this time, and he puffs his chest out proudly with achievement. He squares his feet and lets go of the Elder's fur, brandishing his spear forward again.
'I am M'hari, son of M'honso! I am Guardian of the Canyon!'
His cry bounces off the cavern walls as a dozen echoes, and he is pleased by it.
Beside him, the red beast gives out a small 'wumph' of approval. It is his first kill, an important step on the road to becoming a warrior. M'hari feels the Elder nudge his leg softly, and turns a beaming face towards his mentor.
Elder Nanaki nods at him, before turning away to head back to the surface. M'hari cannot help but marvel at the sleek beast, and the smoothness of his movements. M'hari is determined to be just like that, one day, except in human form.
He wipes his sweaty forehead with a hand, careful of the thread of beads that adorn his brow. Wing feathers from the small desert-bird will soon be added to this headdress, to mark his right of passage. When he became a man, he would have to hunt down a male chocobo in order to wear its strong, fine feathers instead.
M'hari jogs to catch up to the Elder. He is buzzing now, with achievement. It has been a long time since a new guardian has arisen. Granted, this was because those of Elder Nanaki's people traditionally held the role of Guardian, but M'hari was special.
There was a reason why Nanaki had decided to train him to become a warrior, using spear and knife instead of tooth and claw. M'hari was unlike other humans, he was unique.
M'hari could hear the Planet.
Authors note: Ok, I've done something I really wanted to try and avoid, I changed the events of the game. Nothing big-mystery chick/Grace/former Turk-shows up for the first mission and dies. Woooo
She is not, I repeat, an original character. She is from Before Crisis. Thats all I shall say on the matter for now.
M'hari will not be a main character, just mentioned a couple of times. I imagine him to be sort of a cross between Gau from FF6 and Kimhari from FF10 (no fur though heh.)
And I tried very hard not to make the Vincent scene sound stupid or corny. I think I succeeded...
Any ways, thoughts, opinions anyone? as usual.