Shout out to SoulNinjas for adding this story as a favorite! Glad you two liked it!
An hour later Cloud paced outside of the bedroom in which Tifa and the doctor exchanged concerned whispers over Tahri's bed as she lay, finally unconscious, in a drug induced sleep. For all he was fighting it he couldn't help but replay the night in his head over and over again like some kind of bad movie. The way she'd screamed and fought when the doctor had arrived, how she'd struggled until he'd had to hold her down himself, the way she'd looked at him, so lost and completely terrified, before she'd finally settled into sleep, had rattled him.
He was sure, now more than ever, that she had left out a few things when she'd told him what had happened to her when she'd been kidnapped. What was worse was knowing that he had caused her pain both times. If only he'd been faster, if only he'd been more aware, if only he had asked sooner, paid more attention, had listened more closely, had been more patient, hadn't yelled, it went on and on. He couldn't stop the thoughts that created daggers of guilt that stabbed him in the heart.
Even with medication, she still tossed and turned in the throes of nightmares. Every time she clutched her hands into fists, or swallowed a whimper, it was like she squeezed his heart. It got so bad for him that he couldn't even stand to be near her. The guilt rode him like a demon, choked him when he was with her and taunted him when he left. It got so bad that all he could do was leave. She slipped from hazy consciousness to medicated sleep repeatedly for three days and Cloud never appeared. Their friends could do nothing for either one of them except for watch and wait for them to reach a breaking point.
For Tahri, it came on the fourth day when her fever broke and she awoke sometime later, a little slow and dazed, but conscious. Tifa and the others took turns monitoring her until she insisted she was all right. Her episode had taken a lot out of her, but she still managed to force her way out of bed and beg some chores out of her friends. It took a few days more until she was allowed to sleep alone. Cloud still did not return.
One night, after everyone had gone home or to sleep, Tahri lay in her bed, thinking. This would be the night. She had been planning it for days and she was finally able to do it. As quietly as she could, she slipped on some clothes and tip toed down the stairs and out of the bar. Careful not to make any more noise than necessary, she pulled the bag she'd prepared from beneath the porch and disappeared into the night.
A little while later, she was cracking open the door to Aerith's church. She stopped just inside, both in deference to the sanctity of the space as well as to listen for any signs of life. Several minutes spent in stillness finally convinced her she was alone. What she didn't notice was Cloud Strife's position, concealed by the shadows he wore like a cloak. The woman seemed to wander aimlessly until she stepped into a ray of moonlight that just touched the edge of the pool that had brought so many healing not so long ago. She stared into its depths, hoping it could do the same for her.
Shaking off her reverie, she set down her bag and began sifting through its contents. Intrigued, Cloud did nothing but watch. A few moments allowed the girl to pull out two pairs of cuffs and a black drawstring bag. It was an odd assortment of items, to say the least, and it only intrigued Cloud further. He watched her kneel in prayer for a moment, and took her stillness as an opportunity to admire her once again.
Ethereal light reflecting from the pool's surface highlighted her soft features, made somehow more beautiful in spite of their sad expression. Her full lips curved and bent in the utterance of her prayer, though it took Cloud's mind to less holy places. Glints of purple seemed to spark more sharply when the pure light landed upon her hair, as mysterious in their origin as the girl herself. Her whole appearance seemed so otherworldly, Cloud was not entirely certain he had not simply dreamed of her arrival.
The chapel had been his refuge since he'd fled Seventh Heaven. Cloud Strife could fight monsters and people. He could conquer aeons and save the world. Cloud Strife could not fight the guilt that tore at his soul. He had made it through Aerith's death by ignoring the pain until he moved on, but with all that had happened to Tahri, the old wounds bled anew. He had exposed his heart a second time and as strong as he may seem, he was not strong enough to watch it be torn to shreds again. So he'd fled to the only place that brought him peace.
The sharp clicking up the cuffs drew his attention from his daydreams. In his moment of distraction she had clipped her ankles into one pair of the cuffs and had the other pair dangling from one wrist. Tahri stood and turned her back to the pool before slipping the dark cloth over her head. Still perplexed, the blond man took a step forward. The woman tightened the drawstring, then let her hand meet with the other as she struggled to attach the other cuff. Having successfully done this, she whispered a broken goodbye to her surroundings and fell backwards into the pool.