Chapter 60. January – February, εуλ0008

The blade glistened lighter than had the Buster Sword, its interlocking pieces giving the illusion of a whole unless you knew where to look. And Cloud knew where to look. The maker had done an excellent job, even with the rather unusual design. Finely jointed steel and mythril blended together, stronger than each apart but able to split in a flash into whichever of the components he needed.

Not that even Cloud knew what he would use them all for. He supposed he just wanted to be prepared for every possibility; from slaying behemoths to dicing garlic, he probably had a sword for the job. But in all seriousness, he could anticipate every scenario that might come up as he made longer and progressively more dangerous excursions.

He didn't… entirely… mind these long trips; true, he disliked being away from Tifa and even Marlene; as uncomfortable as he often still was around her, he had to admit he was now so accustomed to her presence, that he felt her absence nearly as much as Tifa's.

He could emphasize with how Barret felt; Marlene's dad phoned as often as he could, talking briefly to Cloud, longer to Tifa, but most of all to his daughter. Cloud could hear their wistful goodbyes, sensing Barret's regret on the other end of the line, even Marlene's cheerful demeanor dropping a tad as the call inevitably came to an end. But soon enough, she'd be back to her usual self, seeking the companionship of the only mother she'd ever known; even Cloud would do for whatever he was to the girl.

Maybe Tifa was right - they really were becoming a family. Though he still didn't understand how he himself fit in.

He tested the blade expectantly with one finger, straddling Fenrir as he looked over the marshes near Junon. Despite the care he took, he nearly drew blood on its razor-sharp edge. The open road gave him time to think, dust and wind his only companions; silent friends who never answered, never judged. Gave the noise of his own mind time to shush, maybe even settle into some answers.

He wanted to be part of that family; but he felt he needed to earn his place. That he was just a visitor who could be asked to leave if he set a foot wrong. Part of him still couldn't believe that his life was his, that Tifa was his; that he was really a man who deserved her; the everyday nuances of a real relationship hadn't entered the mind of a younger self who dreamed of a beautiful girl next door.

She had feelings for you, too. That might have been the most astounding revelation he'd heard out of Tifa, that she had cared for him as much as he had for her, all the way back on that night they had made their promise. If he could only go back now and tell that to the boy he'd been then - it could have been a very different night, had that boy had any inkling what the girl beside him was feeling and thinking.

It could have been a promise sealed with a kiss.

Instead, it was a promise renewed with a hundred kisses since.

But he still had to figure out how the niggling little details that left him feeling so lost and boyish once again. Was he doing enough for her? Couldn't he be doing more? I'll give you everything, that's what he was trying to tell her with his ring. I'll be your home, his embrace had told her another night in a garden gone.

Being on the road made him realize he was happiest coming back home.

He'd be back home soon enough; the church wasn't far. He'd stopped here again today, needing its peace rather than the roar of the road. Cloud had begun visiting here to center himself, and with every return, he felt more like he could feel the power of the church, the flowers, just like Aerith had said.

He wished she was there with him. Both of them, really, but right now most of all her. Because sometimes he felt so inadequate. Aerith never made him feel that way, but that wasn't exactly why he wished she was there with him now; it was because she'd remind him he was building all this up inside his own head, call him a silly goose, and with a laugh, tell him to go back to Tifa where he belonged.

The flowers seemed to whisper her words in her stead; for a flash he could have sworn he had seen her shade, bending over to tend them as she had in life. And as he had every time he'd come here, he thought of bringing some of those same flowers home; but he couldn't bring himself to tell Tifa he'd been coming here, and he wasn't exactly sure why.

Next time, he said to himself as he had every time before; his last thought as he strode to Fenrir, waiting outside the door.

They weren't just becoming a family, they were becoming part of this world.

It was the fresh start she wanted. Tifa had yet to run into anyone she had known in Sector Seven; she knew most (and she hoped all) had escaped the collapse, but she was far too jumpy to face them, too uncertain how many still believed it was AVALANCHE's doing, too worried they'd eventually traced AVALANCHE back to her. It was more than her guilt could bear. She'd have to face those demons eventually, to find her way to make amends' but for now she had a whole new world of people to get to know - free of her past free to create life once again.

How many times had she created her life over again? It wasn't what she would have chosen. But all the same, there was hope.

Cloud's bike quickly became a conversation piece. It finally let him integrate into the neighborhood, as people were pulled to check out the novelty. Cloud was in his element describing the modifications he had made or planned to make; he was eager to learn the ideas of others, some of which he had already put into action. Though he might stumble on ordinary conversation, once he had a focus to talk about, he achieved a comfort with social graces he had been rather lacking before.

People were drawn to him when talked about the bike, but people really warmed to him when he talked about Tifa and Marlene. It was having a family that put him on the map of other people's minds, she realized; another man struggling along, just trying to do the best for his loved ones, was what made him real.

The small crowd outside Seventh Heaven dispersed; some would return when the bar opened later that night. For now, Cloud tromped into an empty room, only Tifa there calmly rinsing glasses, waiting for him

"What are your routes looking like tomorrow?" she asked.

"Not too bad," he told her. "Farthest is Junon. Won't be late." He caught her worried look. "No late nights for the next few days," he assured her hastily. She always worries so much when I come back late. But he had to keep doing it, for her; it seemed there was no way he could make her happy completely, whether he worked too little or worked too much.

Tifa's fine with whatever you can do, the flowers seemed to whisper; you're the one who thinks he needs to push himself harder and harder. Deep down, he knew that was true, but somehow he just couldn't feel it

Tifa was glad to hear he'd cut back a bit; she still had mixed feelings about the delivery service he'd begun. He'd been so scared to tell her about it in first place, afraid she'd be angry that he hadn't been up front; and maybe she'd been a little mad, but mostly proud he'd stretched his wings, prouder still when he went along with her idea to make it official. ("Everywhere Fenrir will go. Can't say we go everywhere. That would be false advertising," he had laughed; a rare, genuine laugh) He really rose to the occasion, and as the orders came rolling in, for the first time since opening the bar she felt like they had money enough to breathe.

But like most good things, that came with a cost. Cloud was away from her, away from the family that much more; and though he was broadening his horizons, a nasty bit of jealousy rose that not all of those horizons included her. Her niggling fear all over again that he'd find something else out there to hold him; something gentler and easier than what she had to give.

He'd never leave you, she told herself, he loves you. But in the realities of everyday, would love be enough? After having the excitement of saving the world to hold them together - could these small victories measure up?

What did the hero have left to fight, once the battles were gone?

Soon, the late nights were back, and it was she and Marlene once again. Marlene was sitting at the bar dipping her spoon into Tifa's special macaroni-and-cheese - her favorite dish. Tifa had been so pleased to make it the real way instead of with Midgar's pasteurized process cheese "food", after Cloud had brought back a bright yellow wheel of her favorite chocobo-milk cheese on his latest trip to Bill's Chocobo Ranch. She flashed back to the same scene at the old Seventh Heaven, a younger Marlene eating the same dish and telling a story about Betty and her dad, when sadness fell like a veil over her tiny face; she stopped eating to look up and ask, "Is Daddy coming home tonight?"

This time, Marlene didn't ask. She already knew Cloud wouldn't be back before her bedtime.

But her daughter had another worry in her mind instead. "Tifa," she began, frowning with adult seriousness, "Why doesn't Cloud listen to me? Sometimes he just looks up at the sky…" She laughed suddenly. "Like he's looking for other Clouds."

Tifa knew Marlene spoke truth. Cloud had gradually become less awkward around Marlene, but never truly comfortable, resulting in some fairly one-sided conversations between the two, and always instigated by Marlene even then. "I don't know, sweetie," she said. "Maybe he's just tired from his trips."

Marlene looked unconvinced.

"Do you miss Barret?" she asked, worried. Maybe it was just that Cloud wasn't an adequate substitute; not that Cloud had ever expected to replace Barret, but he had some kind of undefined relationship to the girl. It made for a strange sort of family, but one she was determined to make work.

Marlene scrunched up her face, thinking. "Daddy says he's doing important things," she finally said, "trying to find a different way to save the planet so I can grow up better, he said. So I miss him, but it's OK - I know he's doing it because he loves me."

He's doing it because he loves me. Sometimes it took a child to remind you of the most obvious things. Tifa couldn't help it if she was still lonely; she had acquaintances, yes, but no true friends. It was too dangerous - who could she trust enough to tell her secrets? Those had to remain hidden inside this house, like spider webs in the corner that couldn't be swept away
.

She should probably call Barret more often; he'd understand. He was as much a part of her life as Cloud, brother to Cloud's lover, and they both looked after her in their own way

She could probably give Elmyra a call as well. The older woman always greeted her as warmly as she had on their first meeting, and it filled a hole in Tifa's motherless soul. She wondered if maybe it was the same for Elmyra, the two of them filling a gap left by those that they've loved and lost.

Wasn't that how she'd built her new family, anyway? You lost someone, but you found another, not to take their place but to ease the pain and give you something new.

Aerith, she realized; that was the hole that hadn't been filled for any of them, most of all Cloud. She'd lost Jessie and Biggs - she assumed Wedge was out there, somewhere but her hopes were slim on ever seeing him again - but they'd all agreed to take the risk, going into AVALANCHE. As much as it pained to think this way, a morbid part of each of them had been prepared. Aerith - it had just been so sudden, so unjust, her life ripped away by Sephiroth the same as he'd taken away her hometown in one fell swoop.

Aerith, she mourned, how I wish we could see each other again…

Five months.

Six months since Tifa had opened the bar; five months on the road away from Marlene. Five months in which he called his often as he could, but away from Midgar, reception was notoriously bad; he had a better shot when he was in a city, but most of his time was spent out in the field.

Like now. Half a day away from Rocket Town by truck, a full day if all they had was chocobos, which often was the case. He wanted to get back for a visit, but had no idea how he is going to make it happen.

He looked down at Shera standing behind him, looking even tinier compared to his own bulk. Though she and Cid were no longer pretending they were anything but a couple, Barret couldn't picture them together… shit, he needed to get away from that line of thought. He didn't need Cid's skinny ass, literally, anywhere in his head.

Besides, right now the more important thing was what Shera was doing. He'd had no idea Shinra had been researching oil before mako, but now it looked like the best option for the future - the immediate one at least. "it's not an infinite resource either," she had cautioned, "but it's at least less damaging than the use of mako."

So, the lesser evil. Barret wondered how he'd gone from seeing the world in black and white, to making these relative choices; he supposed experience had taught him that his old ways no longer worked. Not when killing a monster nearly cost the world its life. Not when half his best friends had once worked for Shinra. Hell, rumor was even Rufus Shinra was back in action and trying to do his part. Reeve had been pretty vague on the details, but Barret figured the Shinra heir wouldn't miss a chance to get his hands into Tuetsi's new organization. Hopefully Rufus's touch wouldn't dirty the efforts.

Meanwhile Shera's rig was the most efficient oil mining operation he'd seen. The woman knew her stuff. As she wrote notes on the clipboard, absentmindedly smudging her nose with ink as she pushed up her glasses, he tried not to look at the difference smudges on the back of her hands, wishing they could be only oil.

Geostigma. The same disease they'd first heard about in Kalm was now spreading around the world. "It started the day of Meteorfall, when I was sure Cid wasn't coming back," she'd reluctantly explained; "and the Lifestream stream came tearing through Rocket Town so badly that I thought I was going to die too…" so far, Shera's case was luckily mild, but he heard worse and worse everywhere that he went.

He wanted to get back to Rocket Town that night, sleep in a normal bed for once. He wished Shera would come back as well, but she insisted her work was here. At least she had a trailer to make herself comfortable, since she tired so easily. She'd probably be asleep before he even arrived at his destination; so, although the sun was far from setting, he wished her a good night before boarding the truck back to Rocket Town proper.

The drive gave Barret time to think. One of Cid's former pilots was at the wheel and tried to get him to open up; eventually, he realized Barret was not his usual self, and left him to his own black mood as they drove back in silence. If this plague was spreading across the planet… he had wanted to leave Kalm and take Marlene somewhere else when he'd first heard of it, but now was anywhere safe? He'd have to call Tifa, warn her about it if she didn't know already; find out how it was affecting Edge, if they knew anything else about it there. All he knew was that it was painful and incurable, and he chafed under an enemy he couldn't blow away.

He cracked the knuckles of his left hand with the prosthetic he now bore on his right. He could move to as easily if it was real, but he didn't have true sensation in it; that had been beyond the skills of Old Man Sasaki. He wished he could find that one-eyed woman who'd first grafted on the gun at his request, wondering if she could make her him something closer to human this time. Meanwhile, what he would do. He wanted to be a protector, not a fighter. Not the monster people thought he was with that weapon a part of his skin

It was time to join this new world. Those grandiose ideas of being a leader rose up again, but he needed to be a servant instead; needed to be just another man doing his part. It was humbling, and he didn't much like that part, but how far had being a leader really got him? A whole lotta guilt, and a whole lotta burdens.

His thoughts had sunk as dark as the sky above by the time they finally reached Rocket Town.

Rocket City, it should more properly be called; it was growing like nobody's business. Along with Edge and the "new" Nibelheim, it was fast becoming a hub of the new world. Cid's house was now in the city center, instead of having an endless expanse of grass beyond; the Tiny Bronco was gone, and even the Shinra sports cars he'd been tinkering with as a hobby had been moved to a hanger on the outskirts. Instead, the house had been expanded, with a guest room in which Barret was currently staying, and some further bedrooms, which made Barret… wonder.

Cid met him at the door, puffing hard and fast on a cigarette. "Still haven't quit those?" Barret joshed.

Cid scowled. "Shera's been after me. Gotta smoke them while I can, when she's not around. The woman has the nose of a wolf, if I smoke even one while she's gone, she can tell. The smell, you know."

"Women," Barret replied in mock commiseration. It was all in jest; truthfully, he'd lately found himself missing Myrna more and more. She would have beat him into being a proper father for Marlene, not the absentee he was; not to mention they'd be raising Marlene together. There really was no substitute for a mother in the picture; he was still Marlene's Papa, but he could tell how she was more and more becoming Tifa and CLOUD'S daughter, a sort of shared custody arrangement with a man he once considered a total jackass.

He didn't anymore, but that didn't mean Spikey didn't deserve a whack upside the head every now and then. He'd punch Cloud out personally, mako enhancements or not, if he ever hurt his girl – well, either of his girls. Damn boy better treat Tifa right.

"How is Shera?" Cid asked, only barely masking his worry. Barret could see right through it. The man was getting pretty lonely without his woman, and though her illness hadn't progressed, it still raises specter of actually losing her. Barret would never wish that on the other man. They were kept apart by their work, Cid modeling a mako-free airship from some plans he'd unearthed, while Shera led the search for oil to help fuel it; both finding their way to give, to contribute something to this new world.

So am I, thought Barret. So am I. Learn to give not just take, that had been the advice he'd given to Tifa, but he still couldn't figure out how to apply it to himself. He tried to pretend caring for Marlene was his way of doing that, but really he had just been using her as a crutch, his own selfish desire to have her near. She was getting along much better without him that he was without her.

She really was tougher than him; hell, maybe tougher than all of them. The one that bound them all together, even those she hadn't met yet. Shera had cooed over the baby pictures Barret carried in his wallet, earning a half-frightened look from Cid in the background

"Talked to Tifa a few days ago," Barret told Cid, as the other man slapped a cup of tea in front of him and heated up a bachelor's dinner of beef and bean chili that had Barret's mouthwatering. "Before I left. You were already gone to work on the airship."

"Oh?" asked Cid through a full mouthful. "Mmfh how's she doing?"

"Hasn't kicked Cloud out yet. Apparently, she's got him running a business."

Cid stopped chewing, nearly choking before he finally remembered to swallow. "Cloud, a business?"

"Yeah, I know," Barret replied, "but it seems like something right up his alley. Delivery, long distance. Long rides alone on that thing he calls a bike, fighting monsters along the way. Tifa just helped him get his shit together into something organized."

"That makes sense," Cid agreed. "it's the women who wear the pants anyways. The strong ones that help keep us going."

Barret couldn't resist a jab. "Speaking from experience?"

To his surprise, Cid grew dead serious, putting down his fork and crossing his elbows on the table in front of him before leaning forward. "I ain't kidding," he told Barret. "I'd be fucking lost without Shera. I'd probably starve since I can't even fucking cook. She made a big pot of this when she was here for the weekend." He gestured to the stove. "I work my ass off on that fucking airship, and you know what I'm thinking about now? Not if I'll be the best pilot in the world or even if I'll get to fly again, I think, what will Shera think of this, and somehow that keeps me going, because I sure can't let her down."

Barret said nothing; self-revelation like this was unusual for Cid. He let him continue.

"You know, I'm gonna name that ship after her," Cid spouted on. "I haven't told her. I want it to be a surprise. I want to be able to show it to her –" Suddenly he stopped, choked up, and Barret's heart went out to the man. "Uh, never mind," Cid said, shutting down as he looked at the cluttered table. "Let's clean up this shit in the morning. Or don't, I don't give a fuck –" and marching out of the room, Cid was gone.

The phone line clicked, ending her call with Yuffie. Tifa was left worried and considering; actually, she'd been that way since Barret had told her how the disease was spreading. Of course, she'd already seen it all over Edge, where it was more concentrated. Despite that, she didn't agree with the general fear was contagious.

It looks like people get it when they're desperate or think they're going to die. And have seen this icky black water. That's what Yuffie had told her. Well, Tifa didn't know about any black water, but there was certainly enough desperation to go around. No matter what, there were still the poor, the orphans. She saw them every day, but with most people still struggling to get by she felt helpless to do anything about it. It left her angry and wishing the enemy was something she could actually see and fight.

She wondered if she should even tell Cloud what she'd learned; he'd seemed so worried recently that she didn't want to pile another burden on him, especially if what Yuffie said was true.

Attempting to get her mind off things, she returned her attention to the accounts before her. Obviously Cloud had no idea how to run a business; his receipts had no organization to them, just a here-and-there whatsnot of paperwork that strangely turned out to be profitable. Not that she could blame him. Cloud was for the first time truly learning to be an adult. It wasn't his fault she had years more of practice.

Money and children are the struggles of couplehood. Tifa could clearly remember her mother telling her that as a little girl; she wondered what had prompted Thea to say that, but now that she had both, she was realizing it was true. Bartering goods and service had helped keep the bar afloat, and the addition of Cloud's income was finally letting them get ahead.

They had been planning all along to build a garage in which to make the house's special wine, but now they were able to actually do it; with the added convenience that Cloud could store Fenrir there as well. Not that anyone else could start it, not even her - that had been one of the modifications he put in, some leftover keyless Shinra recognition software - but it gave Cloud a sense of security to know the bike was safely tucked away.

Reeve had been trying to give them some sort of stipend, to integrate them into the new World Regenesis Organization, but Tifa was still avoiding taking him up on his offer. She wanted her little family to make it on their own. Indeed, she felt like they owed it to the people to struggle; another part of their atonement. It was a blessing of sorts that the world didn't know of her and Cloud's involvement in saving it; she'd eventually learned through the grapevine that people assumed the planet had saved itself, and that geostigma was its angry revenge.

That last part was probably true.

But back to the mundane struggles. They could figure those out, right?

Cloud had warned it was going to be another late night tonight; she had planned to finish organizing what she could of the office. Well, "his" office really, as she generally kept her own books downstairs. She was calmly sorting yet another batch of ragtag delivery slips when one caught her attention, and her heart fell.

Sender: Elmyra Gainsborough

Item: Bouquet

Location: Forgotten City

Aerith's birthday. It had been just a few weeks ago - how had she forgotten? Why hadn't Elmyra said something? Tifa had talked to her only the day before.

Then again, she had to give Elmyra the benefit of the doubt. The older woman probably didn't want to burden them both. She could picture Elmyra carefully asking Cloud to make the delivery for her, and Cloud of course would be unable to refuse; in fact, he probably hadn't even accepted payment for it.

But why wouldn't Cloud tell her? Weren't they supposed to be sharing these things? Her heart sunk even lower; if he kept this from her, what other secrets might he be holding in his heart? Did she really know him as well as she thought?

Aerith - that was her real worry, not geostigma. Cloud still bore that guilt, it ate at him aside, and she could do or say nothing to make it better.

She mulled over it all day, wondering if she should just confront him about it; maybe she should just wait and see if he would tell her on his own. She still hadn't made up her mind as the bar opened, and for a while she was too busy to worry. She didn't think of it again until she heard the familiar roar of Fenrir pulling into the new garage.

Cloud clomped in the back way, perfunctorily shaking the mud off his shoes and clothes, but his mind was barely on it all. Those miles back from the City of the Ancients, and it still hadn't helped. He hadn't been back there since just after Meteorfall, but back then he hadn't been alone. Tifa's tears had kept him centered when he wanted to collapse under the weight of his own grief.

This time had been different, he by himself – loneliness whistling through those strange albino trees. The same color as the bleached bones of the city. Placing the bouquet gently on the bank, he trailed his hand in the deceptively warm water, feeling that electric tingle he couldn't explain. He thought he should enter the water, walk out to the place where he'd laid Aerith to rest, float the flowers above so they would eventually sink to greet her - but he was afraid. As if it meant he had he'd have to face her answer for his failure to protect.

The memory still shook him with fear; how close he'd come… Brutally, he steered himself away from that line of thought. Instead, he sat on that bank for a long time, trying to relive the best of her memories. Her kindness, her sass. Her flippancy and her ultimate responsibility. It gave him a certain amount of wistful comfort but ultimately wasn't enough, leaving him staring into that same water until finally, with a heavy heart, he rose to leave.

If only the guilt hadn't traveled along with him this time. He couldn't even bring himself to visit the church, torn apart inside with the knowledge of what he was keeping from Tifa. He told himself a precious lie that he was doing it to protect her, to keep that promise in another way - ignoring another small voice that told him he was a coward yet again.

He fingered a familiar tightness under his left sleeve. That was the day Tifa gave us the ribbons, he recalled; he should be sharing this excursion with her. He knew he should. He had no real reason for hiding this from her, but he did anyway; maybe he just couldn't bring his doubts and inadequacy to light. Couldn't bear to see she made the bright faith she had in him drop away from her face.

The rush was winding down; it was midweek which meant an early night. Tifa greeted him in passing, too busy to ask about his day the way she usually did. Cloud hadn't planned it that way, but he was grateful. Instead of pestering her for a cocktail, he went to the kitchen behind the bar and helped himself to a generous mug of their house punch.

Returning outside to the bar proper, he grabbed the stool nearest the back corner. He let the noise and rhythm of the bar lull him into a sort of insensibility as he worked his way through a rather generous dose of alcohol. Enough so that after the first, then the second hour, he caught Tifa giving him worried glances out of the corner of her eye, knowing he rarely drank during business hours. He kept his head low, avoiding her gaze; finally, as the last customer was out the door and looking into his giant cup. He realized it was all gone, she came around to his side of the bar holding a glass of her own.

She cocked her head flirtatiously. "Mind if I join you?" She asked shyly. "You know like, date night."

Those last words sentence shocked his half-awake groin, remembering what the last "date night" had led to. But for once even luscious thoughts of Tifa couldn't persuade him. "I want to drink alone," he replied, and as the words came out half-slurred and meaner than he had intended, he realized that he was well and truly drunk.

She stopped dead, and the flash of hurt that crossed her face – goddess, how he hated to see that, he was just about to tell her that he was sorry and stupid and he would love to have her join him but he was just such a big downer right now and she probably wouldn't want to hang out with him, but before any of that could slide down from his wet brain and out of his mouth, anger flared in hurt's place.

"Then go drink in your room," Tifa half-growled, throwing up her hands as she uncharacteristically marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Cloud was left alone in an empty bar, only depressing him further. It was time to go to bed, anyways; his room was waiting, the office with its make-do bed that was his room at least for the foreseeable future. He'd gotten used to the arrangement, but that didn't mean he much liked it. Still, as he wobbled off the bar stool and lurched lazily up the stairs, he knew tonight he would be asleep as he as soon as his head hit the pillow. He could only hope he was too drunk to dream.

Tifa was still downstairs in the back probably waiting for him to leave so she could avoid him. Well, then he'd worry about it in the morn- and that was his last coherent thought before he faceplanted into the bed and started snoring.

Once she was sure Cloud was well and truly asleep, Tifa finally put away her inventory sheets (she'd been merely stalling for time, anyways; she already knew everything that was there) and headed up to bed herself. But first, she bypassed the double room that she still shared with Marlene, and went instead up to the third-floor master bedroom. It had been finished for a while, but she continued to stay downstairs, unable to leave Marlene alone but wanting this room to be only hers and Cloud's. Wanted this bed to be one only the two of them had shared.

But now, she curled herself in the middle of that bed, alone - wishing he was there with her, to hold her, tell her everything was OK. That she didn't have to worry about Aerith or geostigma or their relationship or any of those things that sometimes threatened to overwhelm her

Those weren't things a hero could save her from. Couldn't rescue for her from the hurt that love could bring, especially when the hero was the one doing the hurting.

Eventually she'd head back down on the second floor, but she needed these few minutes to herself, especially when her shoulders started to shake and long-restrained tears began to flow. She didn't know if she was crying for Cloud, for Aerith, or for herself.

Neither of them had seen Marlene peeping out of her doorway.

Marlene looked worriedly up the stairs. Where was Tifa? Tifa knew she couldn't sleep without her. Cloud was OK, he was already asleep.

But Marlene started to worry. She'd heard them getting angry at each other and she knew Tifa would be sad now. She hated it when Tifa was sad.

Then she had a great idea. Tifa always cuddled her to sleep, maybe Cloud could help Tifa sleep if he cuddled her? Marlene always felt so much better with Tifa there. Of course, that would mean she wouldn't have Tifa to help her sleep anymore, but she was a big girl now - she'd be six pretty soon! - and maybe she should start sleeping like a bigger girl would. After all, they had the bedroom upstairs ready, but no one was even using it. Yeah, that was it - tomorrow she'd announce that she was a big girl now and she didn't need to share her bed.

She hoped Tifa wouldn't mind too much.