Chapter 28: Ups and Downs

Summary: Tifa grapples with the lessons of her childhood. Cloud exposes some of his.

Tifa thought she was the only one who felt awkward going into Londa's house and finding Genesis lounging on the couch. Nobody else mentioned it. Didn't mention that Londa was dressed in a completely different outfit than she'd worn before.

They'd given Genesis (and Londa) their two hours.

After the fight on the beach, they'd gone to the civic centre so Zack could change out of his wet clothes. Tifa hadn't really been thinking of any much, because she'd nearly died in that fight. She'd been encased in water and none of what she'd done had saved her. She'd learned how to fight so she wouldn't feel helpless, and the first monster they encountered outside of Midgar? Had made her feel helpless.

They'd dropped off a still babbling Priscilla with her grandmother. Then they'd wandered around the village checking out the shops, (the weapons dealer sold garbage, the item shop was understocked, and everything smelled of dead fish), and the rest of the town, and they'd had to pass by Londa's house and Tifa had suddenly remembered that all of this wandering had been to waste time. They'd done nothing useful, nothing to advance their mission, all because Genesis wanted to… to have sex with their hostess.

This was a small place. The whole town had to know what was going on in their hostess's cottage, but nobody else in their group seemed to think that there'd be a problem. Only Tifa knew that Londa might get into trouble with the rest of the village.

Then, when they'd gone back to the cottage, even Londa seemed to think it would be fine. She was practically dancing around her kitchen in a light and floaty wrap more suitable to Costa del Sol than ugly old Junon.

Tifa sat with everyone else at Londa's rough-hewn table – it looked like the one they'd had in Nibelheim – the one her mother had picked out and her father had never gotten rid of – and tried to ignore that the house smelled of… not food.

She was standing. Tifa wasn't sure why, but she was, and everyone was looking at her.

"Been long time since I seen a night sky that wasn't metal plate." Absolutely true.

"Won't see many stars here, either," Londa said easily. "Shinra keeps their lights on bright. For the planes and such."

Tifa shifted her weight. "Then I'll be back quick." She lifted her lips. It wasn't much of a smile, but it fit the situation.

Cloud was looking at her. His face was smooth, ready for poker. Tifa looked away.

"Go outta town a ways?" he suggested. "See the stars from there."

Tifa's protest was buried under Aerith and Zack's concerned questions – Was it safe? Would the two of them be enough? Should they all go? – and Londa's instruction that the supper was nearly ready.

Tifa wrung her hands, wondering which question to answer. Cloud just looked to Zack. "Gonna go east along the beach. Half hour; no longer."

Apparently, that was all the reassurance everyone needed, because Zack nodded and everyone else kept quiet as Tifa led the way out the door. Only Genesis' narrowed eyes indicated any suspicion that they weren't going stargazing.

They were halfway to the beach path before Tifa pointed out the obvious. "I don't actually need the company," she said even as Cloud's solid presence reassured her.

"You're upset," he said, and wasn't so reassuring anymore.

"I shouldn't be." She could admit that. "Like you said, two adults."

Cloud's silence turned grating. She knew he was judging her….

"Not how I was brought up, that's all." Not how Cloud had been brought up either, not in Nibelheim.

"This isn't Nibelheim," Cloud said.

"I know that!" she snapped. She stopped, and only then realized that she'd been marching, stomping even, towards the stairs to the beach. It was high tide. There was no beach.

She looked at him, and he jerked his chin at the sea wall – an invitation to sit so they could stare at the ocean instead of each other.

"People hooked up in Midgar," he said. "In your bar, even."

She sighed. "Know that too." She waited but Cloud didn't push. He didn't stare either. Nothing about him said he was demanding a response. Which meant she had to give him one – one that made sense.

Did anything about her life make sense anymore?

It used to. When all she had to think about, to know, was that she owned a bar, and she was going to bring down the Shinra Electric Power Company. She'd never thought either of those things was simple, but they'd made sense when nothing else in her life had.

After…. When she'd awoken in the back of a truck with Master Zangan, and the Nibel mountains had been bumps in the distance, all she'd had were questions with no answers.

What had happened?

Why had Sephiroth gone mad?

Why was she alive?

Was anyone else left alive?

Why did her father have to die?

What did she do now?

And the worst one:

Was it her fault?

She had some of those same feelings now, Tifa realized. That feeling that nothing in her life was under her control. It felt like there'd been too many changes, too quickly, too violently.

Tifa missed her bar. The creaky floor, the uneven counter, the walls and the windows and the old juke box.

"I think…," she started. But her thoughts were still swirling.

Owning the bar had been stressful and chaotic and noisy and so very frustrating at times, so why did she miss it?

She'd known what was expected of her.

It had actually been pretty easy to figure out what it took to run Seventh Heaven: decent booze, decent food, and prices that suited the clientele. Even when her bartending had run smack dab up against her Avalanche activity, it had all made sense. Like Cloud had said, people had "hooked up" in her bar, and with her figure, she'd been asked out and leered at a lot.

None of that bothered her as much as some woman she'd barely met inviting a man Tifa barely knew to have sex after maybe two minutes of conversation.

Everybody else seemed to know how to deal with that, but Tifa didn't know how she was supposed to know how to behave…

Oh.

Oh.

She started again more confidently. "I remember. The older women in Nibelheim – the matrons – the ones who wanted my father to marry again. They used to give me lectures – motherly guidance, I guess, since most of them started with 'since your mother isn't here'. Papa said they meant well, and I should listen to them since they were trying to be kind…. They did it to all us girls."

She blew out a breath, forced herself to acknowledge the feelings she'd buried under the flames of Nibelheim's destruction. "They were bullies, really," she finally said. "With all kinds of rules how we should behave and what we should want for our futures."

Tifa could practically feel Ms Dachmer's disapproving sniff.

"Marriage?" Cloud asked.

She nodded. "After all, I wouldn't want to cause my father any kind of heartache or worry. What with him being the mayor, and a widower." The words changed sometimes, the phrasing and the emphasis, but the intent was always the same. Do as we say, be as we are. Fit in and be happy. Be good – be better than good. She's also read a lot of fairy tales, with true love and happily ever after – books the matrons deemed "fit" for young girls.

"To be fair –" She gave him a nudge at using one of his favourite phrases. "To be fair, most of the time I didn't resent it - kind of believed it, even." She blew out a breath. "Believed that sex was important – a gift shared with, well, our husbands, I guess. And guys… they look at my body and –"

"Become assholes."

She nodded. "I can handle that," she assured him. Though, according to Aerith, she wasn't good at it. "Don't like it, but can do it."

Now she could feel Cloud staring at her. She looked at the ocean and watched the moon's rippled reflection. She braced herself….

"Just because other people are casual, doesn't mean you have to be," he said finally.

Tifa's shoulders dropped, releasing some the tension she'd been holding.

She took a breath, looking up at the stars she hadn't seen clearly since arriving in Midgar.

There were clouds, but it didn't matter. They were wispy things that didn't hide the stars so much as soften them, make them glow. The moon was clear and shone bright and true.

"I do want my first time to be special. For it to mean something," she admitted carefully. "But… Dunno. Sometimes, I feel like wanting true love makes me… wrong somehow. Naïve. Like maybe I should give up my dream and just grab the first decent guy that asks."

Cloud didn't respond right away, which surprised her. She didn't want to look at him, though, in case he was wearing his 'don't be so stupid' face. The face she felt she deserved.

The quiet went on. He shifted and shifted again. A quick glance showed that he wasn't looking at her. He was frowning at the water, and Tifa realized her friend working himself up to saying something personal.

It suddenly occurred to her that he might think she wanted him to offer…

"What d'you remember of my mother."

The shift made Tifa blink, but the words were automatic. "She loved your father deeply," she said. "When he died, she wanted to die too, but you were there." Tifa took his arm. "She kept going because of you," She meant the words to be reassuring, but Cloud looked away. "She loved you."

He huffed out a breath, flicked her a quick glance, and looked back out at sea. Taking the hint, she looked at the water too.

"Ever hear her say it? Hear her say she loved me?" The words were quiet, fiercely neutral.

It was hard to bring Cloud's mother into focus. Memories of Mrs Strife were intertwined with memories of her mother alive but already dying. It was painful. Tifa didn't want to do it.

Suddenly, she had a clear memory of Mrs Strife sitting in their front hall, crying, while Tifa's mother, scarf covering her bald head, patted her hand. Her mother had said "Poor Mrs Strife," after she'd left.

It was always "poor" Mrs Strife, like Tifa had become "poor child". A title, or maybe a state of being….

"She never said it to me," Cloud said breaking up Tifa's hazy memories. "She loved Da, but me? I was a responsibility, a duty that kept her from joining Da in the Lifestream." Cloud kept his gaze on the water. "She never wished me dead instead of Da – not out loud, anyway. Probably thought it."

Tifa's mouth opened in protest, but she forced herself to stop, to really take it in. Cloud rarely talked about Nibelheim, and he never talked about his ma, so that meant this was important.

She kept her hand on his arm – silent support.

"She used to cry for hours. Lay on her bed, missing him," he said, looking down at Tifa's hand. "Made my own meals half the time, starting when I was too small to reach the counter. Washed my own clothes, tracked my daily chores. Did for myself because I wasn't as important to her as a dead man." His breath was audible. Tifa was holding hers.

"I remember thinking, if this was love – if it caused this kind of obsession – then I didn't want it. Why would anyone want to be helpless like that? Love seemed stupid and selfish, so even before I left, knew I wasn't going to look for 'my one true love'. Ever."

"But, that night…." She trailed off. It had seemed romantic – on the water tower, under the stars – but they hadn't talked of romance.

He looked at her. "I never became a hero," he said softly. "And you rescued yourself just fine."

It still felt like a betrayal, but Tifa knew it hadn't been. She hadn't wanted to marry Cloud – she'd just wanted to leave Nibelheim with him. She'd been fourteen, and everything in her upbringing had told her marriage was her only escape – a hero coming to her rescue.

It wasn't until Cloud was gone – the only other person who'd openly dreamed of leaving their small village – that Tifa had started to think of college as a way of getting out.

A large fin, belonging to a mysterious sea creature, broke the moon's reflection on the water. Then another one, and another. A pod of whales, swimming south through the Emerald Sea.

"When did you…" She stopped herself before she could finish. He'd been half-way to sixteen when he left. He'd've turned sixteen somewhere along the way.

"Sixteenth birthday," he confirmed. "She was twenty and a lot of fun."

She snuck a look at Cloud. Her night vision wasn't anything like his was, but she could see him watching her, waiting for the next question. "And with a guy?"

He gave her a mischievous smile. "Sixteen. Her husband."

Cloud had… With a couple!

"It was their suggestion," he said, as if that made it better.

"Why?" she blurted, demanding an answer that made sense.

He shrugged. "Because he was attractive and I wanted to know if I really did like guys that way," he said. "It was nice for a while, convenient. But it was never going to be more than what it was."

And that had been part of the attraction, she understood. The couple Cloud had shared himself with didn't need him to love them. Just like Londa didn't need (or probably want) Cloud to love her.

"So, you don't think love is real?" It sounded whiney.

Tifa looked down. She'd wrapped her hands around each other, gripping tight and holding on. Cloud's hand came down on top of them, and she looked up to see him watching her with concern.

"Ma's version isn't the only way to love – got enough smarts to know that. Only need to look at Zack and Aerith." He looked away again. "Don't know if it's for me."

"Good thing I'm not you, then?" Her voice was small, tentative. Like she was a child once again.

He gave her a soft smile. "Very good thing."

Something rose to the surface and blew water out in a fountain, making her jump.

Cloud bumped her shoulder. "You're allowed to want an ever after, Tifa. Male, female; now, later."

Something about the way he'd said that made Tifa think he'd hidden some point in his words. She'd discarded the idea, but maybe he did think she was looking to him for true love.

"I'm not in love with you," she said gently but firmly.

"Yah, no. Know that." His protest was laughing, but she'd surprised him.

"Good," she said, still wondering what he'd been hinting at. "Was Londa… your birthday…"

Cloud shook his head. "No. Met her later, after I'd left Shinra."

Did that make it better? Maybe.

Tifa would try not to feel awkward when they returned to Londa's house, but she'd probably fail. She said as much to Cloud. "Feel like I'm twelve again, not twenty."

"Nearly twenty-one," he replied with a smirk. She gave him a push and he let himself topple over.

The lights by the elevator provided enough light to see their path, and they walked easily back to Londa's

Well, Tifa walked more easily, even though it had been a seriously awkward conversation. Cloud, of course, was pretending it hadn't happened at all.

She gave his shoulder a bump. "Thanks," she said. "I know sharing that can't have been easy."

As expected, Cloud shrugged. One shoulder jerking up and dropping down – his only sign of discomfort. She could've pushed it, but he'd offered his ma's story freely and there's no way he wasn't feeling raw. Talking about just about anything else seemed silly. Staying quiet seemed just as bad.

"So how are we getting into Upper Junon?" she blurted the question out, spurred on by the aggressively bright lights by the elevators.

"Know somebody who'll authorize us."

"Just like that?"

He nodded. "Make deliveries up there all the time."

"Huh." It made sense, but it was still… "Was thinking we'd have to climb the pillars or something."

This time the look he gave said she was crazy. "Elevator's easier."

She just smiled. "Zack would try it."

"Zack's crazy," he said. "Don't be like Zack." There was so much resigned fondness in Cloud's dry delivery that Tifa giggled.

They opened the door to Londa's and were greeted by warmth, laughter, and the smell of hearty stew and fresh soda bread.

Londa gave them a hard look (directed more at Tifa than Cloud) before nodding once. "Just in time. Come. Sit."

Ignoring Genesis' equally hard look, Tifa sat. It put her next to Zack, who asked her if she was okay. He didn't whisper, so Tifa (with a quick look at everyone) didn't either. "I guess it hit me just how far from home I am." A truthful answer if somewhat misleading, but none of them needed to know she was thinking of her home in Nibelheim, and not the bar.

Zack gave her a hug. Aerith gave her a sympathetic look. Londa patted her back as she walked past with another dish of food. Genesis just raised an eyebrow. "Ripples form on the water's surface; The wandering soul knows no rest."

"Loveless, Act I," Londa replied. "Just before the hero leaves his village to find his fate."

"It is always the hardest part of any journey," Genesis said. "Those first steps away from the known. Even when there's no other choice, it is wrenching to give up what could have been."

"If there's no choice, you just have to set your mind and do it," Zack said. "It doesn't have to be hard."

Genesis pointed his spoon at Zack. "You have no poetry in your soul."

"I'm with him," Cloud said, nodding at Zack.

"Of course, you are," Genesis muttered.

"Can worry and fret all you like for a while," Cloud went on. "But spend all your time looking back and you miss what's around you right now. Sometimes it's good stuff – friends – but sometimes what you're not looking at will kill you."

"He has a point," Londa said.

Aerith sat up straight. "I, for one, am grateful that Cloud decided to 'look around' that day on the cliff." She grabbed Zack's hand and squeezed. He looked down at her in helpless fondness.

The conversation moved away from personal topics after that. They talked about Midgar's possible collapse ("Unnatural, building a city off the ground," Londa said.) They discussed the executives' move to Junon and what it would mean for the village. ("Nothing good," was Londa's opinion.) They talked about the death of President Shinra and what Rufus would be like when he took over. ("Just as bad," Londa said with a snort.)

Londa, Tifa found out, had a great many opinions about a great many things beyond the handsomeness of men.

.o0|0o.

"Well?" she demanded impatiently. Not even a hello.

Still, terseness was their friend in this situation. "It's difficult. His support –"

"Spies and assassins."

"Exactly." As if that wasn't why the Turks were so fucking dangerous. "We need a patsy."

"Why not Palmer."

He shook his head. "Tseng would never buy it."

"Reeve?"

"Palmer's too stupid. Reeve is too smart," he replied.

"Avalanche?"

"Too fucking slow," he growled. If only Tseng had brought that little group up to snuff on bombing the first reactor, he could've blamed everything on them. Including the death of the president's bratty son.

"What about that new group?" she asked. One manicured finger tapped a slow rhythm against her lips. It looked like an invitation, and it was if you were foolish enough to underestimate Scarlett. Heidegger had learned not to do that.

"Fair's group?"

Scarlett hummed agreement.

Heidegger didn't know much about Zackary Fair except that he'd been SOLDIER First Class, and that automatically put him in a class of disloyal prima donnas.

Even before he'd taken over as head of SOLDIER, Heidegger had decided that the program was a pain in his ass. When Sephiroth and Fair had disappeared, it had been annoying but convenient. He could push back against Hojo and a program that was expensive, inefficient, and whose members seemed to cause more problems for the company than they solved. He'd managed to whittle down the funding for the program so that no more Firsts were made, but there were still plenty of Thirds and Seconds taking up space on the 49th floor.

Heidegger had frankly forgotten about Fair until he'd had to send out a regiment to kill the slippery bastard.

He should've sent out two, obviously.

"He might still have friends in SOLDIER," Scarlett suggested. "Someone Fair might respond to if they reached out to him."

Heidegger nodded. "He was described as being excessively friendly."

"Then maybe he's excessively trusting as well," she replied with a sneer. "Find his best friend, and then encourage that friend to keep in contact with Fair, while letting us know everything they talk about."

"Fair isn't going to be talked into killing Rufus for friendship," Heidegger pointed out.

Scarlett smirked. "He doesn't have to. The recordings of their phone calls and messages will say whatever I want them to say. Let me know when it's done."

She gave him a mocking salute and then sashayed away, filled with confidence.

He loathed that she was so confident.

"He won't be using a military PHS!" he pointed out.

She just waved over her shoulder, not even having the courtesy to look at him. Not even having the courtesy of slowing down. Just that one hand, lifted and waggled, like he was some peon from under the plate!

First Rufus, he vowed. Then her.

End notes: For anyone wondering if Cloud was a victim of statutory rape, he wasn't. (At least, not according to the laws where I live.) He might've been a little young emotionally, (probably was) but he was able to give consent. I imagine it was another way to say FU to the restrictions he'd lived with in Nibelheim.