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Cloud made sure hold on extra tight to them that afternoon as they rested. The sunbursts of intense warmth that Aerith and Tifa's rhythmic breathing inspired in his chest keeping the images of blood and terror and worthlessness at bay. Cloud sent up yet another round of thanks to the goddess for allowing him to have these vivacious, flawless young women in his life.

It made his heart stutter and his breath catch when he took time to look around and take in just how blessed he was; how good he had it.

He was blessed, he knew, to have Aerith and Tifa and Ma and Elmyra- and even that asshole Cid. Cloud knew that there were so many others who were more deserving, who were braver, better, and-or worthy. Yet it was Cloud who was here, in this moment, trusted to guard these living, breathing shards of his tattered, shattered soul. Cloud knew he was broken and battered and less than nothing but yet somehow he had been fortunate enough to find these vibrant, magnificent fragments of himself and they had embraced him, despite his shame.

His failures.

His fatal blunders.

Cloud held his breath as Aerith's brow contracted and she grumbled sleepily before she wriggled a little higher and settled back down. Tifa's brow furrowed for a moment but she easily settled back down once Aerith had slipped back off into peaceful sleep.

The tears that gathered in Cloud's eyes were hated even as they were cherished. Hated because he was not weak- he wouldn't be weak, not for these precious people that loved him despite himself- but cherished that he had something- living breathing people who smiled at him and laughed with him and loved him so easily- to feel so intensely about.

Cloud knew without a doubt that if he lost these precious, precious people there would be nothing of him left. He would breathe but not exist. Be but not live.

Please, Cloud begged the goddess as he shoved his face into Aerith's earthy toned hair, absently noting the pieces of Tifa's dark locks intermingled freely with the flower girl's own, as he took heaving, nearly desperate breaths. Please let the Lifestream take me long before any of them. I would never survive it if they left me alone. There would be nothing of me left but an empty shell. Please don't let them be taken from me.

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"Hidin' much, brat?" Cid drawled amusedly as Cloud scuttled into the shop with a slightly harried expression.

"They're menaces." Cloud complained half-heartedly as he donned his apron and checked his tools.

He and Cid's current project was working on some more motors so they could see about starting up a foundry or something. A lot of the metal collected really needed to be melted down in order to be properly made into something useful. There was also a worrying amount of trash plastic piling up. The amount of glass used in packaging or just littering the streets was also quite considerable.

Sector Eight had an old, abandoned factory that had once been used by Shinra back when they had just been a weapon's company. Cloud and Cid had spent the better part of a week of afternoons tromping around the place after the playground had been completed surveying the place and they had been pretty pleased with what they had found. Purchasing the building had been simple as it had been for sale for quite a while, but providing the amount of power they needed was problematic because quite frankly the Shinra power supply to Sector Eight- the Slums or the Upper Plate section- was problematic at best and positively shitty in all honesty.

A problem easily solved as long as they could make a more efficient magnet-powered motor. If they could make a central, large motor they could run power to the rest of the plant without needing to hook up to the Shinra grid. The issue they were trying to work around, however, was that they needed their prototype to be about thirty-five percent more efficient to make the solution truly viable.

If they could make it work, though, the opening of the plant could revolutionize the Slums.

According to Cid, Shinra outsourced a lot of their shit after the closure of the Space Program. Which had made sense to Cloud, after things had been explained to him.

The Space Program had done most of the general use fabrication due to Weapons Development claiming that they had too much to do as it was. Therefore, when Space had been shut down, Weapons Development had needed to pick up the slack.

"That bitch Scarlet loves her shitty so-called fucking dresses and high life to dedicate a lab or two to the fucking necessary component needs." Cid had explained while they walked around the abandoned factory, occasionally needing to eradicate a monster or two as they poked around a bit. "And with the way those dipshits manage money, it's cheaper for Shinra to outsource, even though they should be able to fucking make the shit themselves for cheap."

They had walked around a little more before Cloud had asked the question that had been bugging him. "But doesn't most of this discarded shit belong to Shinra?"

Cid had stepped up onto a metal-grate catwalk and looked around the place with a wistful expression. "We get this place up and running, Cloudy, and we can make a killing off of melting shit down and making bulk pieces. Shinra is too bloated with greed to fuckin' realize the true value of the shit they toss aside, because according to them it wouldn't be cost effective to recycle the shit. They toss it down here and cut their losses." The elder blond had given Cloud a sharp grin. "And no matter how powerful those Turk bastards are, there's only so much they can fucking do against the people. We get this right and we'll have enough people behind us to make Shinra play nice."

"You don't think they would just come in and take us over by force?" Cloud had queried curiously.

"We're in Midgar, kid. Under that old fat bastard's kingdom. Half the fucking Infantry is from here, not to mention we'll be employing bastards that have been shafted by Shinra. We the people have the power here and it works to Shinra's favor to let us be. With the shitstorm they've got going on with those AVALANCHE bastards and the unrest in Wutai that fat bastard can't afford to bit the hand that feeds him so close to home. By the time any of those situations resolve themselves we'll be firmly entrenched in the lifeblood of Midgar- not just the Slums, either- and going against our operation would cause Shinra's hold on the city to shatter." Cid grinned ruefully before flicking out another cigarette and lighting it. After taking a long drag, the man had continued. "I know how that asshole's mind works, kid, and they've got way bigger problems than us and by the time we become a problem they'll be pretty powerless to stop us."

"Huh." Cloud grunted in thought as he looked over the dusty, decrepit place, his mind overlaying what was and what could be in his mind's eye. "Do you-" Cloud trailed off, looking down and to the left as he scuffed his boot against the floor agitatedly.

"Do I think what?" Cid asked around another exhale of smoke. "Do I think we can do it or do I think we can get this place up and working well enough to get you a non-Shinra-fucked prosthetic?"

Cloud peeked up at Cid through his bangs hesitantly before dropping his gaze back down to his boot scuffs in the silt. "Not just me." Cloud said softly after a few moments of companionable silence. "But for the others. Some just need little fixes but some of them need wheelchairs and shit. Apartments that have been retrofitted so they can actually live instead of just fucking exist."

"And that, Cloud." Cid said warmly as he hopped down and clapped a warm hand on Cloud's good shoulder. "Is why we're going to make this work. You got brains and heart, kid. More than enough to get the job done."

Cloud shook himself out of his reverie with a rueful grin and gaze Cid a sheepish look. "Sorry, what was that?"

Cid barked out a laugh and repeated himself. "Alright, so I figured out the fuckin'….."

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Feel free to leave me a note on your way out~!

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