Disclaimer: I do not own FF7

Arrive and Depart

Elfe looks down at the city formally known as Midgar. Rubble and ruin, that's all it is, really. Her gaze moves to the small metropolis on its fringes; Edge.

She has no idea why anyone would want to live on the doorstep of something so depressing. Midgar was a city fashioned from the false hopes and empty promises of Shinra Incorporated. All that's left is the emptiness of that hope, right in front of the noses of the people it failed. And here she was, returning back after so many years to her old battleground.

It can't be helped, though.

Tifa Lockhart, ex-member of the second strain of Avalanche, rides her blue chocobo down the rocky sea cliff a little way in front. Elfe knows that the woman does not trust her, but that is no big surprise. Elfe was never good at winning people over to her side. She had inspired with her strength, her conviction, not her words. That had been Sears' sort of thing. With that quick, charming smile and those earnest eyes, he could make anyone believe his story.

She sighs softly at his memory. It still hurts, even after all this time.

The Lockhart woman glances back at her, but says nothing. Elfe shrugs to herself and moves Zirk into a walk. She had been practically breathing down Elfes neck at Gospel. Children were another one of Elfes 'weak spots', but she had seen enough to know that what she was looking for was not there. Trust is an issue here, and Elfe has a hunch that Tifa will not make her search easier once back in Edge.

It was hard enough convincing the woman not to kick her straight out of Gospel Orphanage.

'Dammit.' She mutters to herself, trying to ignore the itch that is growing on the back of her right hand. They say old wounds feel the rain coming, and Elfe has never doubted it. Looking up, she calls out to her companion 'Miss Lockhart, we may want to find shelter, it seems a storm is brewing.'

'Hn?' the young woman looks back again, dismissive 'We can continue on little way, I'm not bothered about a little water.'

Neither of them says another word as the thunder sounds.

Stubborn, of course, but then again they all would be. Avalanche. She doesn't want to appear weak, naturally. Then again, she does have her charges to hurry back too, like a mother hen. Elfe thinks that this is probably the more likely reason for her haste. Apparently her PSH ran out of battery, and in the mountains, a power plug was slightly hard to find.

The thick clouds open up, letting loose the awaited rain.

Elfe draws her coat tighter around herself. She had forgotten how cold it could get on this continent. She is too used to the heat of Cosmo Canyon.

Scaling the Midgar coast is not the easiest way to travel from Junon to Midgar-Edge-whatever, but it certainly is faster then going around the mountains. Both of their steeds can cope with water, luckily.

Elfe has to admit, Tifa was certainly an experienced traveler, and a determined one too. She knows her stuff.

'There's a cave here we can shelter in for the night.'

Raindrops batter her eyelids as she peers up again. The rain is intensifying. Elfe will be glad to get out of it.

'Ok.'

Zirk, irritable bird that he is, jitters nervously as they approach the depression in the cliff face. Elfe follows Tifa's lead and dismounts, leading the birds inside. The slate cave is damp and uninviting, but at least it is out of the rain.

'A bit cramped, but we'll manage.'

Elfe nods in agreement.

They make camp for the night.

He doesn't flinch when the door bursts open, and his two highly trained body guards are taken down with frightening ease. He looks on, cool demur ever in place.

The Remnant's footsteps walk echo against the wooden floorboards. Rufus can feel the illness tingling, responding, to his presence.

'I do hate lies, Mr. President.'

The corner of Rufus's mouth twitches, ever so slightly.

'I apologize. This time you get the truth.' The lie slips so easily from his lips. He gives out a small what can you do? smile, 'The object you seek fell from the helicopter while we were running from you. I'm afraid we were careless.'

The Remnant circles him slowly, sneering.

'Is that right?'

'I swear it.'

'Fine,' The Remnant, Kadaj, regards Rufus's face, almost lazily drawing out two cards 'then swear on these.'

Tseng and Elena's ID cards fall to the floor, bloodstained, and he almost winces. He cannot forget their capture; it is in the remaining Turks eyes every time they look at him. Shocked, he is not. Surprised, maybe. Shaken, no, his resolve is far too strong to waver now.

He has unfinished business, and he intends to see it out.

'Why did you do this?' he responds, unfazed.

'We need Mother's power.' Ah, he thinks, of course. Like little lost babes, they are 'The reunion is coming and we need her.'

'Reunion…' Some part of Rufus's mind wonders what theories and speculation Hojo would devise to explain this second reunion. He dismisses the thought as irrelevant. He wants to hear what this Remnant has to say.

'My brother's and sister's who all share Mother's cells will all assemble, and together we'll take revenge on the planet! We already sent out the invitations, but...' a small laugh of self mockery 'you know, someone's gone and hidden the guest of honor.'

'Invitations?' But he already has an inkling of what it may be.

Kadaj sneers again, eyeing him and his bandaged hand.

'You know all about that, don't you?' The young man tilts his chin up, looking down upon Rufus. Indignation almost flares up in him at the gesture, but Rufus makes no move. He is control of this situation 'The stigma, Mother's legacy lives on in the Lifestream and makes it happen.' '

The boy begins to pace, frustrated, agitated, could he feel the presence of the box? No, Rufus doesn't think so. Not yet, at least. The fragmented cells were not strong enough; they couldn't manifest, multiply, not for the moment, in any case.

'She does…so much for us, and we…we don't even know where to find her!' Kadaj continues, and Rufus can clearly see the agitation. Perhaps the Remnant does sense it, but only on a subconscious level 'But…what can we do? We're just remnants, really. Remnants of Mother's legacy. Until we find Mother and receive cells, we can't be whole again. Geostigma and a legacy aren't enough for a true reunion.'

'What do you mean?' Kadaj and his brothers were the fragmented remains of the once great Sephiroth. Rufus knows this. But becoming whole again? He had assumed that they wanted they wanted their 'mother' in order to gain the strength of Sephiroth, becoming whole. But the boy made it sound like something different then merely acquiring true Jenova cells.

Could he mean-

'But Sir, surely you've noticed?'

He has. The resemblance is uncanny. Unnerving to say he least.

There is a glazed look in the boy's eyes, almost high. The tingling, the ache in Rufus's arms intensifies with each step, and he feels his chest constrict with something unnatural, known more commonly as fear.

Suddenly the room is far too small, and the boy is far to close. Heavy tension laces the air, so suppressing. His arm is buzzing now, aching.

The Remnant kneels, lowering his head so that that fine, silver curtain of hair completely hides his face. Rufus can feel the illness shifting, almost squirming in his skin as the boy slowly raises his head. He has to clench his teeth and jaw shut tight, he will not show the aching, sizzling pain shooting up his arm.

Finally, he meets the Remnants gaze, and he realizes he is looking straight into the terrible eyes of The General.

She is so weak, so tired already, and it frustrates the hell out of her. Already her head is giddy and her gaze is spinning, and she has not even left Healin's grounds.

I'm supposed to be stronger then this, she thinks angrily as her tired body slumps against the tree trunk. All was well until she stepped out and away from the back courtyard. Now she feels like an invalid, pathetic really. She hadn't expected the fatigue to hit her at such a force already. Surely this isn't normal?

Grace bites her lip hard, drawing blood, before stumbling to her feet again and moving forward.

'I am not going back.' She mutters under her breath, taking another few painful steps before sinking to her knees. She fights the bitter urge to turn around and head back. Stubborn pride will not let her. She will see this through; she will get out of here.

Sucking in a deep breath, she rises and continues.

It would be easier to go back, so much easier.

She's forgotten something. Her stomach turns.

No. She hasn't.

Uncertainty seeps into her dizzy mind.

No! Grace stubbornly collects her thoughts and bundles them into a single thread. She knows what she has to do, and nothing, not even her own mind, was going to convince her otherwise.

She is not going back.

There was no way on this planet she was going back. They would have to drag her there kicking and screaming (though something tells her she has more dignity then that) but still.

No going ba-

She crumples.

'You really are going then?'

Elder Nanaki of Cosmo Canyon, Warrior of the Desert Hill Lands, turns back to look at the young man-cub.

'Yes. I trust you to take care of the canyon in my absence.'

'But I-'

'M'hari.'

The boy looks down at his feet, abashed and upset. Nakaki can all but smell the disappointment in the boy, and is amused by it. He wants to come. Eager to see the outside world, eager for adventure, the suntanned child does not want to be left behind.

Shaking out his mane lightly, Nanaki paces back to the forlorn child. He sees M'hari shift his weight uncomfortably, and raising his head, Nanaki butts the child gently in the chest.

Eyes wide the man-cub stumbles backward, and Nanaki cannot help but be slightly amused by the surprised expression on his face. Humans amuse him like that, the way they could twist their faces into expressing so many different feelings at once. Surprise, slight anger, slight hurt, worry and stubbornness, all there in one expression.

He chuckles.

'I will not be gone long, cub, and rest assured, you will have your work cut out for you here.'

Turning back to look at the mountain range before him, the beast sighs softly. The news of the attack troubles him and he must be swift if he is to rendezvous with Barret at the Costa Del Sol Port, but he is loath to leave his beloved Canyon. What if the attack is not an isolate one?

He can hear the boy breathing behind him, smell the dust and sweat on his skin and pungent musk that cries out 'human.'

'Take care of it.' He says softly, and the bead charms that adorn the boy's wrists and clothes clink as he is startled.

'I will, Elder, you can count on me.'

And Nanaki feels a swell of pride in his chest for this young man-cub, whom he regards as his own. His lips peel back to reveal long gleaming canines and his one yellow eye crinkles, and he gives a small bark of exhalation before setting off.

That sick, heady feeling has returned, but Denzel bites his tongue and continues down the stairs. There are more important things to be done tonight, things he needs to know.

Its dark and quiet, none of the other kids are awake, not even Marlene. There are painting missing and lost furniture, all broken and destroyed last night.

While he slept.

He just doesn't get it! Why the hell would anyone do something like this? Hot tears threaten to spill, and even though its dark, he refuses to let them come.

Act like a man, not a wuss, he tells himself, trying to make his face as still as Clouds.

Cloud.

That's a heart wrenching thought, even though he will never admit that to ANYONE. His hero, his role model, once even maybe his dad, gone for two years like a ghost. Like his old family.

But, here's the thing. The thing that's biting the back of his mind, refusing him sleep and more achingly annoying then this damned disease. It came with a white face Marlene clutching his arm for dear life amidst the chaos that surrounded the aftermath of the Attack. It came after the grief and shock that a boy named Tiel would never joke around with them again. After the stunned horror that some, some MAN, would attack and kill one of a house full of defenseless kids. It came after the realization that Marlene had been one step away from being Victim Number Two.

It came with three little words said in raw whisper between choking sobs as he did his best to comfort the girl he thought of as 'sister.'

'Denzel, C-Cloud's back.'

And that was it. That was one night ago.

Pain flares on his forehead and he feels a line of slick, wet pus seeping down his temple. He wants to vomit, but manages to hold off the heaving retches while he wipes the line of pus away.

Down, down, and dark in the hallway, yet it seems so empty, so foreboding. As if the place itself knows that something terribly wrong happened here.

Tiel.

Only a little older then Denzel himself. Taller, thinner, with darker hair, and dead.

Denzel bites his lip hard and continues on, down the stairway, through the hall and into Bar Lounge. They call it that even though Tifa sells no more liquor; it still feels like one. All those tables where they eat-Tiel once stood on the table to announce his eleventh birthday-and, yes, the front door.

Softly he scuffs his bare feet along the panel wood floor. He's a little bit scared, apprehensive, and he doesn't know which would be worse, opening the door and finding Cloud gone, or opening the door to find him there.

Because for so long, he hasn't.

'He was there last night, like a guard, but…I didn't see him during the day.' Marlene had admitted earlier that evening, and that had set off the sting at the back of his mind again. Neither of them had voiced the thought 'will he be back again tonight?'

He realizes that he has been standing stupidly in the Bar Lounge for the past ten minutes or so doing nothing. He frowns, putting on his 'hero face' before hesitantly making his way to the front door. Slowly, he reaches up and opens it up a crack, hoping, dreading what he will see on the outside street.

Tinny streetlights illuminate the cracked sidewalk and shabby road.

Denzel's heart doubles over as he sees the bulky shape of Fenrir beside the hydrant, next to a dark silhouette of a lone man with a big sword.

'Cloud…' He whispers, slipping through the doorway and onto the front step.

He really is here. He really did save them. He came home!

He all but runs to the figure.

'Cloud!' and he sees the familiar but forgotten head of spikes turn at his voice.

'…Denzel?'

He grins and halts some paces away, just staring. Hid forehead is throbbing, but for the moment, it doesn't concern him.

'You're back!'

But Cloud doesn't answer, even though Denzel waits. He realizes that Cloud isn't looking at him. Apart from that brief moment of recognition, Denzel realizes that Cloud has somehow slid his gaze away. The smile slowly sinks away from his face, and he can feel a bubble of confusion beginning to swell under his chest.

'Cloud?' he tries again, but this time Cloud pulls his entire face away, turning back to the street he was monitoring before.

Dismay pushes down the exhalation he felt before, beating it to a pulp with a stick.

'I…aren't you-' he fumbles his words, wanting Cloud to look back at him and ruffle his hair, like he used to.

'You should be asleep.' Comes the softly spoken voice, but it sounds so empty. Denzel wonders if Cloud really even cares.

'I ca-me out here to see you!'

Clouds head dips, turning ever so slightly towards him. The bubble of confusion has popped, leaving in its wake bitter disappointment and hurt. Rejection, Cloud doesn't want him here, and Denzel's fists become tightly clenched.

He can feel the pus oozing out of his hurting Stigma, but he ignores it.

'Don't you…don't you even care!?' He shouts out, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. But he doesn't try to take them back.

Silence, and…

'I'm sorry.'

But Denzel doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't. He turns around and runs back inside, slamming the door firm shut.

Sorry wasn't enough.

Authors note: Sorry about the wait again, lots of things happening in my life.

Well, hopefully some of you are still out there, reading away. ...I've started the next chapter, so hopefully it should be up fairly soon...