Chapter 57. May – August 10, εуλ0008

"It's Corel wine," Barret told them. "Old-school recipe."

Tifa swallowed, gagging as it burned its way down her throat. "Wine? This stuff is firewater." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "It's stronger than anything I served in the slums. Does this stuff have Materia in it, or something?"

Cloud sipped thoughtfully. "Seems ok to me."

"Your taste buds must be dead." Then again, though Cloud rarely drank, when he did he liked his drinks strong. Still… as the potent first flash went down and some actual taste came through, her mind started whirring, thinking of ways she could improve it. Some juices if she could get them, maybe a splash of this and that… She'd worked with worse stuff before, and still made something refreshing out of it. It had been what she'd been known for, after all.

Marlene was asleep; they'd allowed her a couple sips, whereupon she spit it out, pronouncing it "gross". But minutes later, she'd been out like a light, leaving the adults to themselves.

Whatever it was, the strange concoction had Barret had brought home as payment for a job began to do its work. Tifa was the first to start giggling, fondly reminiscing about early times in Midgar, rose-tinted memories that she could only relate now that the alcohol had dulled the worst of the pain. Cloud was quiet, but paid rapt attention; eventually, though, a goofy-woozy grin crossed his face too. Barret only got louder, cracking stupid jokes and telling silly stories until Tifa felt tears running down her eyes in laughter. Goddess, it felt good to laugh. Even if only for a little while, to be free of her worries was a blessing.

Eventually, the giddy first wash faded away, leaving them relived of the stress that had become a constant in their lives. Barret settled into a mood and began to wax philosophical, pondering the Planet in his deceptively thoughtful way. "The Planet… we've got to find something else. Mako's pretty much done for, what else have we got?... Yeah, it's more than that. I feel like this is all my fault in a way. Didn't think it through, solving one problem, not having a solution, just making another problem. All that anger, you know, revenge against Shinra, now Rufus dead, and I don't even know…" He trailed off, staring intently into his now-empty cup. "You know what YOU should do, Tifa? You should try selling this stuff!"

"Me?" The idea sobered up her near-wasted self. "Why me?"

"Yeah, you, Tifa. You need something to do other than moping around and taking care of Mr. Dumbass here." Cloud started, as if he wanted to be offended, but somehow couldn't manage to get too worked up about it.

Tifa glared – or tried to. Her eyes didn't seem to want to focus enough. Moping, Barret had said. She hadn't been…

Well, maybe she had.

A little.

"Besides," Barret continued, "you're the one who knows how to do it. Though we'll help you. Right, Cloud?"

"Sure." Cloud's mako blue was turquoise glaze.

Tifa let that sink in. Could she really do this? Return to what she'd been? Start over in a new place? She tried to cling to that thought, but it just kept slipping away from her.

One thing though, she was certain. They needed a proper home eventually. Not this squatting in abandoned buildings, finding new places as one collapsed after another. She looked over at Marlene. The adults could cope, but she wanted more for the child.

"There's a need for a place like this." Barret was on a roll now, pounding the table before them with his human hand, causing their cups to rattle and jump. "People drink when they're happy. They drink when they're sad. The bar is a place where they can all come together."

That was true, Tifa knew. Everyone who drank – and in Sector Seven that was pretty much everyone – had gathered at Seventh Heaven or one of the smaller stands littered through the streets. It had been her job to facilitate that, to create the atmosphere in which camaraderie was fostered, even more than it was her job to create the drinks and food. Those were only her tools; at the end of the day, it was about people, coming together, interacting, connecting.

And with a flash, she realized Barret was right. That was what she needed. All of them. Not just a bar, but a place to call home, for their own little family and a surrogate home for the neighborhood. "I'll do it," she announced, full of liquid courage. "Cloud… you, too, right?"

She'd asked him this same question overlooking the wreckage of Sector Seven, the loss then so fresh in her mind that all she had was a vague determination to retrieve what was lost; with no way of knowing then all the things that had happened since. Adventures beyond her wildest dreams. But she realized she still wanted that small dream back.

For a price, Cloud had said, but she knew now, his price had been love. And true to his word, here he was with her still. She turned, placing one hand on his arm; even her treasured ex-SOLDIER was showing exhaustion, his head sagging and eyelids drooping.

She felt much the same herself. Offering her arm and a smile, he rose with her; they sat together on an overstuffed chair in the corner, heedless of its rips and tears. She leaned against him; her last thought was they'd never make it to bed as consciousness winked out.

Construction was the easy part. After the weeks they'd spent helping others build their own homes and businesses, Cloud was relieved to find there were plenty of people happy to return the favor. There were some things he just couldn't do alone.

He and Barret had slipped back into their earlier AVALANCHE dynamic – Barret bellowing orders like he was in charge, while Cloud quietly led in the background. He did his share of the work, but mostly found himself directing, surprised how easily others deferred to him – treating him with respect, even appreciation. His friends were one thing, but his socially awkward self was surprised to find people even seemed to like him. It was a strangely new experience.

Of course, much of their easy acceptance by the citizens of Edge was because of Marlene. She reminded him of Aerith in a way – Aerith, who had been known and liked by all of Sector Five. Or maybe like Tifa, the angel of Sector Seven. Either way, Marlene made friends wherever she went, captivating people with both her sunny disposition and an emotional awareness far beyond her years. Even Cloud was firmly ensconced in her family of friends; and Cloud didn't doubt that many people who warmed to him, did so because they were following Marlene's lead.

"I'm worried about Tifa," Marlene told him seriously one day.

That got Cloud's attention. "What about Tifa?" he asked.

"She seems so sad." Cloud hadn't failed to notice. Tifa had been largely absent from construction itself, occupied first and foremost with planning out the business it was to become. Cloud was seeing a whole new side of her, appreciating what a shrewd businesswoman she was among many other things… then again, she'd had five years to learn, and with a sinking feeling, he realized there were still so many ways he was far behind her.

He was pleased, though, that she had an outlet for her energy; it lifted her mood, leaving him overjoyed to see her smiling, even laughing. Even so, he knew it didn't stop her weeping with guilt and sorrow, often leaving him helpless to comfort her. Sometimes he got the chance to hold her in his arms, letting the tears run their course other times he heard her crying as she rocked Marlene to sleep, opposite the thin wall separating them. Even after she'd invited him in that first night, he was still hesitant, and only rarely did he dare to intrude on the space Tifa and Marlene shared.

"But I know a way to cheer her up!" Marlene continued, interrupting his thoughts. Before he could ask more, she chirpily announced, "It's a surprise!" as she scampered off.

Once Marlene disappeared from sight, he went to check on Tifa. She was bent over a rough-hewn plank that was to be the bar itself, poring over a sheaf of paper before her and scribbling frantic notes. Behind her, raw pipes poked out everywhere, extending behind to what would be the kitchen for the bar in front and also for their personal dining area in the rear. It was Tifa's own design; he was happy she'd finally have a chance to have the kitchen she desired, or at least as close as they could make it.

She looked up as he approached; worry creased her beautiful features. He hated to see that; ever time, his mind went racing on ways to get her to smile again. "I'm trying to make a menu," she told him. "I think I've already figured out what to do with drinks, but food, it's so hard to get any supplies. All the normal routes are blocked or monster-infested." She sighed. "I'm really counting on people coming here for atmosphere and company. So far, I can't offer them anything special food and drink-wise…" She tapped her pen on the counter. "Not to mention, most people don't have any money. Neither do we, for that matter."

"Well, when I've been out getting stuff, I've seen most people using the barter system," Cloud told her. "I mean, when you think about it, it's no different than us trading labor and information for supplies. It was what we had, and someone else needed it."

"Huh." Tifa stared thoughtfully at her notes. "Maybe that's an idea. People without money can trade us items for provisions. That could work." She wrote something down in the margins of the top sheet. "But we'll still need to get the supplies from somewhere in the first place, or we won't have anything to trade with. And I just can't find what I need so close to here."

That gave Cloud an idea. He could easily travel to get supplies for Tifa; not that he liked being away from her, but doing something for her would help mollify his guilt for leaving her alone. "I can do that part," he assured her. "You can stay here and do what you do best. I'll go kill monsters, that's what I'm best at after all," he told her. Come to think of it, he'd have to barter something for those supplies – maybe work for it. Clear out another few monsters locally. Turns out there WAS something he, too, like Tifa, could do that no one else could.

To his delight, she smiled with a sparkle in her eyes; that was all he needed. She rose from her work, coming around the bar to snake her arms around his neck and lay her head on his shoulder; she was just the perfect height to fit. "Next step," she murmured into his sweater, "we'll have to start thinking of some decorating. Maybe put up some photos. It's time to start making this feel like home."

It was the night before they had planned to open; the bar shed put so much of her heart into was finally done. She'd gone for a different theme from the rustic vibe of Sector Seven, something more in tune with her new life. Even though…

"Tifa," Marlene had asked, both shy and serious. "Did you think of a name yet?"

She and Cloud and Barret had been tossing around possibilities, but none had seemed to suit, and here they were with days rather than weeks to the opening with still no name. She had to come up with one quick, if she wanted to start getting word out. "We can't come up with one we like," she admitted.

"Well, that's okay, because I have the perfect one for you," Marlene proudly announced. "I've been saving tit to be a surprise."

"Oh?" Tifa asked, intrigued.

"Yep!" Marlene exclaimed. "We should call it… Seventh Heaven!"

There it was. The name Tifa had sworn she wouldn't use; but had it just been a way of shunting away her own hurt? "Why do you want that name, Marlene?"

Marlene put her hand to her mouth, as if thinking seriously about this answer. "Because… Seventh Heaven was fun." She looked at Tifa sadly. "I want to have fun again, Tifa."

That sent a spike into her heart. They'd been trying to make the best of the meager circumstances of their current lives, to put the best spin on it for Marlene's sake, but it seemed they hadn't been fooling her at all. How could she say no to a request like that? "Okay," she agreed, though not without reluctance. "Seventh Heaven it is."

She was putting on the last finishing touches. Since neither Cloud nor Barret had any eye for these things, Marlene had been her assistant as Tifa meticulously planned out the little details of the bar. She'd managed to get matching stools and tables, aligning them just so; they might have once belonged to the Shinra cafeteria, for all she knew. A little bit of polish and paint gave the bar a clean, open atmosphere, even as the walls were still unfinished wood and exposed piping, as were the living quarters upstairs. Offsetting that universal color scheme of grey, she filled the rooms with all the color and comfort she could find; two double beds covered with comfy quilts, mismatched furniture that nevertheless held its charm.

The last thing she'd done had been to hang the photos on the walls of the bar. New ones, all, no memories of either Nibelheim or Sector Seven – all those had been lost in fire and destruction. Nor were there any memories of their travels; a camera had hardly been on their list of essential items.

Maybe it should have been. What she wouldn't give now for a photo of Aerith…

Instead, they had something new. Crayoned drawings by Marlene decorated the back living area and the double bedroom upstairs; the office was left bare, a simple hard bed and a desk otherwise serving largely as storage. The third floor, and the room that would eventually be hers and Cloud's, still lay unfinished and open to the sky; but they couldn't postpone the bar's opening any longer. Money was getting tighter by the day.

She straightened a photo – Cloud had borrowed a camera and showed a surprising gift with photography, an attention to detail she wouldn't have expected. Finding beauty even in the cold stones and metal of Edge; heading out of the city to capture the wasteland, even going far enough to Kalm to gather images of green and flowers. Something to remind her customers of both the place they lived and the world that surrounded it.

Cloud. Perhaps experiencing the world with this renewed childlike wonder was the hidden blessing of his attuned Mako senses. Every time she thought she had him figured out, he'd unearth some hidden part of himself. Hanging his photos now made her miss him dearly; it just was never enough with him lately. They hadn't been making love; she worried their relationship was taking a backseat. She didn't want that to happen, not when they'd finally managed to find each other.

Finally satisfied with the alignment, she took a step back. Pacing the bar, running her hand over the surfaces of tables and booths, she patiently lingered over the final product they'd been laboring at for the past months, satisfied with the outcome of their sweat and toil.

As much as she'd hesitated over the naming of the bar, she was starting to warm to Marlene's enthusiasm. The ads had been posted; she'd been hearing the name "Seventh Heaven" on tongues all over town.

It was a promising start; this would be a different creation than the old. The previous Seventh Heaven had been a base of operations, in a city where she'd merely existed instead of truly living. Not that she hadn't found some happiness along the way. Such as … Marlene.

Sector Seven might have just been passing time for her, but for Marlene, it had been the only thing she'd even known. No wonder she'd been so adamant about the naming of the bar. Growing up with cocktail shakers and beer mugs for toys, playing waitress with the drunks .Even though she knew Marlene was resilient, had never know anything else to regret, she was glad for this change.

Marlene would be able to grow up seeing sun and sky.

A bare-bones electric grid, powered by generators had been put in place; plumbing was more reliable, if somewhat old-fashioned. The comforts of Mako they had enjoyed in Midgar meant nothing compared to home and family. A place you could be with people you loved. This... would be a home.

A home… with Cloud.

She'd always wanted a family; when had he become part of that picture? Back in Nibelheim, so many girls had fantasized about their husbands, their children; she'd never been one of them. But had things been different, might she and Cloud have made a life together in Nibelheim? She tried not to let her thoughts stray down that road; it smacked too much of sorrow and regret. Still, she wished she had a simpler life, an easier life, to offer him.

Cloud still saw her as that unblemished young girl; but that wasn't the entirety of who she was. Neither as naïve as age fifteen, nor as disillusioned as age nineteen, now, at newly-turned-twenty-one, she had some full circle in some ways – at the same time she was definitely someone new.

I haven't been THAT Tifa in a while, Cloud. She thought of all the different people she had been; but Cloud was the string that held it all together. She fingered the ribbon on her arm thoughtfully. She didn't want to NEED a man, but this was not just any man, this was Cloud, and they were two survivors clinging together – bound in the remnant memory of Nibelheim that no one else could enter.

She needed him in ways that frightened her sometimes. She could make it without him, yes, but he made everything just a little bit brighter; a sunshine that didn't believe he had that power.

Aerith. She'd had that power too. And Aerith had borne feelings for Cloud; she'd never known how much Cloud might have returned. Aerith had pushed her own feelings aside, coaxing Tifa and Cloud together at the expense of her own heartache. What if Tifa herself had stepped back instead, allowed things to happen? Would Cloud have found a happier life?

Aerith's upbeat attitude even in the face of death; she couldn't compete with that. The last Cetra, and Cloud's chance to be her hero. All she had was this small little world of the everyday, this gritty unglamorous life that perhaps she had been intended for all along. Where she had little use for grand gestures, savoring the smaller joys that came where they could.

She couldn't have a dream life, nor could she give Cloud one. But she could love Cloud for them both. Aerith – I'm grateful you stepped aside. I'll try to do as well for him as I know you would have. The man they both had cared for; for the memory of the woman that had so much impact on them both.

She'd thought to make herself a hero. First for Cloud, then for herself, then for the Planet. Huh. What a self-centered fool she had been. She'd have a new role now, and she was grateful for the anonymity – who would think it, their neighbors the saviors of the world?

Cloud was his own set of challenges, to be certain. But for all of his faults – every one of which she loved – Cloud was the mirror which reflected herself. And she shone right back at him – she who knew him better than anyone, but still found parts of his heart hidden even from her.

Enough. Cloud was waiting upstairs. She swept one final look over the bar, and turned off the light.

Barret had the second bed in the double room, leaving Cloud stuck with the uncomfortable utilitarian office bed. Good only for one person, and barely even that. But tonight, that had one advantage – with Barret in the room, he didn't have to worry about Marlene waking up alone at night. Because tonight he had other plans.

It was getting harder and Cloud for Cloud to be in the same room with Tifa without being able to touch her; even worse, being without her at night, along with only the thoughts of her as he stroked himself to an ungratifying climax. Barely enough for him to take the edge off and keep himself from desperately pouncing on her. The bedroom that was to be Tifa's room, and eventually THEIR room, was only half-finished – but tonight, he wouldn't need it.

After all, the opening of the bar deserved a celebration.

He heard Tifa's boots coming up the stairs, finally climbing the ladder he'd placed to allow them access to this small, flat area of the rooftop. Cloud wondered what they'd use it for eventually. Would Marlene want flowers out here? Maybe Tifa would be able to grow her own vegetables? No matter – tonight, it was theirs.

Tifa's head peeped over the edge, and she gasped at the tableau laid out before her. "Cloud, you shouldn't have!" she automatically demurred, but the immediate delight that shone in her eyes told him that yes, he definitely SHOULD.

"It's not much," he told her. "Cheap wine. Some blankets we had lying around."

Maybe. But Cloud had arranged it with the greatest of care, everything just so, all set out for the one moment when Tifa would lay eyes on it. "It's more than enough," she replied. Cloud so often didn't understand, and how could she explain to him, that it was what he wanted to do that counted? That it was the effort, even if he didn't get it exactly right, that meant the most to her.

"Besides," she continued, "that's not all we have. We have the stars, too…." She sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around her knees, looking up at the sky. With electricity still sparse and inconsistent, the growing town was nearly dark, allowing the night sky to sparkle in a way that could never be seen in Midgar, even above the plate.

"The stars…" He trailed off; she wondered where his mind had gone. He didn't say, instead letting a long wordless moment spread out before he handed her some of their homebrew, in the mismatched plastic cups they'd managed to acquire. Together they toasted in silence, not even the satisfying clink of glasses to mark the moment.

Even so, it was a start. A new bar, a new life. She leaned back; somehow a pillow had magically appeared between her and the cold, bare wall. They sipped slowly together, the pleasant murmur of the city life below calming, soothing the warm buzz that began to permeate her.

Finally, Cloud was the one to break the silence. "It's been so long since I had a real home."

"Me, too," she agreed.

He turned from the sky, looking into her eyes with the little-boy innocence she loved so much. "But you were able to start a new life in Midgar," he told her.

It was so admirable the way she had. Now that he could remember more clearly – the Tifa who had found him at the train station, so clearly a woman, the promise of her youth fulfilled. Confident, self-assured. All the things he'd always respected her for.

She sighed. She didn't want to bring up that she'd had five years to do so in – she was too scared of reminding him of where HE had been during those same five years, spoiling the moment they were sharing. "Midgar was never truly a home to me, Cloud. It was just a place to live."

And now, she wondered, was she still waiting for a life to appear? Was she still that girl waiting for her childish fantasy of life with Cloud – had she even HAD a clear picture of what that might have looked like? And if so, how did it compare to what they had now? Perhaps a small part of him had been carrying her forward after all, her hero even when he wasn't there.

Cloud paused, a small flare of jealousy for the years she'd had and he hadn't, followed by gratitude that she'd been given them. "But it was something, if not normal," he gently argued.

"Something," she agreed. "But," she reminded him, "You were the one who said we needed to find our normal lives – somewhere."

"Then why does it suddenly seem so weird?" he answered.

Tifa took another sip of wine, the pause allowing her to think. Idly, she considered the taste; the recipe was improving. She'd need some space to make more – they'd have to add on a garage at some point – but there were still a few things that could be tweaked in the meantime. "Because this is the first home that we made ourselves."

Cloud spoke to the stars above. "What DOES make a home?"

"Simple. It's people." She placed her hand on his own and he started, his attention whipping back to her. She wanted him to understand. Why she'd pushed him so hard to interact and make connections; back in Sector Seven, now in Edge…. The Cloud of her youth might have had trouble getting along with people, but it was never because he didn't want to.

Cloud needed people. SO badly that it might break his fragile heart. And if Hojo had pruned that out of him, she would hunt down the madman in hell and kill him painfully ten times over.

But for now, all she could do was love him for the man he really was.

She was close to him, and Cloud burned. He wanted to savor stolen time with her, but he was a starving man looking at the most delicious meal in the world. He'd gotten himself off – twice – just from the anticipation of this evening, so he'd be at least somewhat sated and able to enjoy this time with her; but he was aroused all over again, now that reality instead of fantasy was warm and near and pressed against him. But what if she wasn't up for it?

He reached over, gently taking the cup from her hands to set it carefully away from them. Taking her chin in his hand, he turned her face to his as he leaned in closer. He didn't know if it was the wine or just them… but she returned his kisses just as fervidly, her hands as eagerly crawling over his body until they lay stretched side by side, clawing away at unneeded clothing and reaching for each others' bodies.

"I want to make love to you under the stars," he whispered.

The air was warm. It always was near Midgar, the heat from all the Mako that had seeped into the ground – but it made the winds pleasant as they tickled over exposed skin. She let him take the lead. She usually did. Though opportunities had been few, she was learning to appreciate all the ways Cloud made love. This time it was fervid, urgent, he covering her with kisses interspersed with honeyed words that needed no comprehension to have meaning. Not for the first time she marveled at the natural way they melded together, barely noticing that the last of their clothing was long gone and he was sliding inside of her –

"You feel so good," she murmured in encouragement, that single phrase electric to them both. Silently repeating that single thought inside her head, that is CLOUD inside of me, sent thrills up and down her spine, bringing her halfway to her peak already.

She shrieked when she made it to the top, barely caring if the could be heard on the street below, and he jerked frantically to join her, she feeling the warm rush of liquid inside her that signaled his satisfaction. Breathing hard, their breaths finally settled, as the stars twinkle above them together sinking into satiated sleep.