Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII, if I did, would I really be writing this story?

Chapter 4

It was rather late by the time they returned, which silently annoyed their planned hostess. After taking a long, relaxing shower, Tifa decided to cook her friends a nice, big meal. When they hadn't returned by 7 p.m. however, she wrapped up everything and stuck it in the refrigerator, grumbling about why she even tried.

By 11 p.m., a yawning Tifa closed her book and un-tucked her long legs to stretch, pointing her toes and relishing in the tight stretch of sinew and muscle. Turning her head she looked out the window facing the street from the downstairs den. A long, tired face reflected back at her, but she dismissed her appearance and focused on the lights outside.

Her bar was located several blocks from the memorial and thankfully didn't garner too much light traffic this time of night. It was home to small consignment shops, artisans, and tinkers who loved their occupation too much to give it up completely after Meteor. The roads were never quite clean, cleaner than most in the fledgling city, but obviously given effort considering the number of planted flowers, broom swept sidewalks, and freshly painted signs. It was relatively cozy and its denizens appreciated its safety, especially knowing that the major forces of AVALANCHE frequented the Seventh Heaven.

The middle-aged seamstress who owned the clothing shop across the street was visibly moving around, locking everything up and closing down. Before she climbed the rest of the stairs up to her apartment however, two little children came rushing down towards her, laughing while they circled her legs and grabbed at her skirts. The woman's mouth opened wide to exclaim as she stooped down with her arms wide, trying to scoop them up. Herding and shooing them back up the stairs with a stern face. Tifa leaned forward earnestly, her throat suddenly feeling strained. The mother's face was stern, but when she reappeared, a warm, adoring smile graced her face as she reached out to tug the light string, leaving her shop cloaked in darkness. The fighter leaned back into her cushion and guided her eyes sightlessly back to the cover of her book, suddenly feeling very disappointed with herself.

After the events of Meteor and Sephiroth, her family was still with her, finding a home in the new Seventh Heaven which was once again run nearly all by herself. She had Marlene, Denzel, Barret quite frequently, and Cloud. A home, a family, a peaceful life… she knew it wasn't perfect, but it was everything to her. After losing everything and everybody else first in Nibelheim then Midgar, Tifa tried to be independent but knew, no matter how much she wished to deny it, that she relied heavily on those she cared about. She did her best to keep her family together and obviously even her best wasn't enough.

"Damn it!" She hissed. Tifa sat up and brought her knees to her elbows, holding her head with her strong hands and pressing the butt of her hand into her eye, squeezed shut. No. No tears were allowed. Not for her. Her fists clenched angrily in her hair as she willed the pain of her failure and inadequacies away.

Tifa's unsinkable optimism began to surface however, and she reasoned with herself that she wasn't alone completely because of her shortcomings. One of the major reasons was by her own choice, or rather, her influence. Marlene and Denzel loved her and Cloud, this she knew as much as she knew that she loved them, but she also knew that going away to school in Corel was the best for them. They would be away from the gloomy Edge, have open fields soaked in sun and fresh air to play in with plenty of children their age. Marlene would have her adoptive father and Denzel would have a much better father figure than his current, usually absent one. Tifa knew that Denzel thought the world of Cloud, and while his idol was an incredible man in so many ways, his mere absence was having a negative impact on the boy. Tifa wasn't sure if he was ready for it, Cloud that is. 'How ironic,' Tifa thought, 'I feel completely ready for a family of my own but I'm not capable of it. And, the man who is perfectly capable runs away from it.'

Tifa slowly opened her eyes and relaxed her hands, feeling all of her energy leave her as her muscles loosened, section by section. 'Is that it?... Was I… pushing him too hard? To be in my family…?'

A bang and a crash downstairs had her jumping out of her seat and flying down the stairs, barely slow enough to throw on a robe over her plain, white night gown. The site that greeted her had her thinking that it could've been worse.

A large, cylindrical turbine looking device lay on the floor next to the front door, looking as if it had been torn from something by the way snapped wires poked out of it. Oil and various other fluids seeped from the device and pooled on her polished hardwood floor while a tall, foreboding man in red used a bar towel to wipe the grime from his gauntlet.

"Vincent!" Tifa exclaimed, shocked and more than a little dismayed about the mess. "Just what is goi-"

"Tifa! Quick! Vinnie's hurt!!" A frantic ninja hopped about holding towels and bandages in her hands that she managed to find.

The bar mistress fixed her eyes on Vincent and quickly assessed him. She immediately noticed the glistening wetness on his black pants as he stood there, slowly wiping his hands, and fixing her with a sideways look, completely indifferent to the apparently desperate situation.

Vincent cast his eyes about him and turned to grab an up-ended chair and righted it so he could sit, fully knowing he'd be forced into one eventually. Tifa smiled and removed her robe so she wouldn't get it bloody, hanging it on another nearby chair and grabbing her first aid kit that their exuberant ninja had only halfway pulled out of the drawer in her effort to save the brooding man, who was currently ripping the hole in his pants to reveal the hole in his thigh. The gun wielder tried to wave the ninja away as she tried to pile towels and bandages on his leg, which looked more like actually throwing them at him.

"Yuffie." He called sternly.

The younger girl halted mid-throw and quivered with the sudden stop.

She knew that the girl was only trying to help in any way she knew how but Tifa knew Vincent enough to recognize his tone of voice and exhausted but warning filled look he was giving Yuffie.

"Yuffie, could you go into the bathroom upstairs and bring me down a bucket full of hot water? There should also be some rubbing alcohol and cotton balls in the medicine cabinet." Tifa instructed gently.

"Right! Good idea! Great idea!" Yuffie babbled with wide eyes, instantly dropping the pile in her arms where she stood and turned to sprint up the stairs.

Tifa tried not to smile as she rummaged through her kit, finding her needle and thread, as she walked back towards the injured man.

"You're good at that." He spoke as Tifa approached and kneeled next to his leg, setting down her kit and beginning to thread a needle.

"At what?" She questioned softly, without looking up and striking a lighter, holding the needle over its flame for a few moments to sterilize it.

"Making her go away." Vincent replied bluntly.

Tifa raised her eyes to meet his and laughed after a moment of searching them, realizing that he hadn't meant to be funny.

"You can't blame her. She's only trying to help." She grinned felicitously. "Besides, Marlene and Denzel sometimes get like that. Wanting to be helpful, but not quite knowing how. Cloud too actually, heh."

Vincent didn't answer, but watched her intently when she paused.

Tifa had stopped short when she had glanced back at his wound. It was a clean shot, but the bullet was still lodged in his flesh, which to her amazement, had already started to heal. Tifa's eyes widened, slowly leaning closer to inspect what was happening.

Vincent's burning eyes remained locked on her face, watching her expressions as she saw what he could do. His wound began to stretch and slightly bubble with new, bright blood as it appeared to be his body rejecting the bullet, slowly pushing it out of Vincent's leg.

"My demons… are weak, when I am weak." He explained, albeit cryptically. Tifa didn't take her eyes off of his leg though, slowly working the bullet out, as she mutely nodded her head in understanding. 'They help heal him.'

Eventually, the bullet pattered to the floor and rolled until Tifa picked it up and held it in the light with her fingers in fascination. It had come from a handgun, if she had to guess, and was copper colored, but coated in Vincent's blood. Looking back, she thought that she could even see his leg begin to pull together and heal. She thought that this definitely explained how he was so easily healthy after suffering what should have been mortal wounds when they traveled together.

Vincent leaned forward and took the bullet from her hand while continuing his stare. If Tifa didn't know any better, she'd have thought he looked angry, but if she had to put an emotion to his expression, she'd say an odd mixture of wary amusement. After realizing that his irises were more of a maroon than red, it finally registered that his face was actually quite close to hers.

When he didn't move back, Tifa began to grow slightly uncomfortable with the way he merely stared, as if waiting for something. "Wh-what?"

"You're not… disgusted."

Tifa thought he almost sounded disappointed. She frowned and tilted her head.

"Why should I be? Honestly, I think that's quite amazing. Especially when you don't have any Heal Ma-" Tifa stopped when she saw his eyes leave hers for the first time since his intense staring contest in favor of her lips.

She felt as if her legs were asleep, keeping her rooted to the floor as Vincent reached up and rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. Her eyes widened at the contact as her brain stubbornly refused to process what was happening.

Vincent hadn't looked away, but it took Tifa a moment to realize that her door had opened again revealing a blonde-man, in the process of pulling his riding goggles from his eyes.

The broad-shouldered newcomer stopped when he saw Tifa, in her night dress, kneeling on the floor next to a pale, but dark man. His startling blue eyes widened before narrowing on the hand that lingered on Tifa's face before wordlessly, lowering his head and striding up the stairs towards his room, passing a slightly calmer Yuffie who was carrying a large bucket filled nearly to the brim with steaming water.

"Hey Cloud! It's about time you got here! Hey...! Hey! Where ya going?!" Yuffie shouted after him, sloshing water onto the floor. She growled in frustration and turned back towards the other two with an exasperated expression. "I really don't know how you live with that Tifa."

Tifa had watched his retreating, silent back with a sinking heart, and merely attempted a smirk, "I don't… actually."

[[Thanks for reading!! This chapter was quite a bit longer than the last ones and I hope it was all right. Please leave me feedback so I know how I'm doing, I'd really appreciate it!]]