Chapter 66. December 15 (noon – 3pm), εуλ0009
Marlene worried.
Sadness was the price to see it end. She'd seen plenty of sadness; she'd had someone she loved gone back to the Lifestream. Shouldn't sadness be over? But it had been two years, and there was more sadness now than ever.
Marlene thought.
Books covering Cloud's desk, untouched since his departure; still opened to pages, pictures, that made her skin crawl, but nothing about the stigma that had infected Edge. Bedding made, ready to welcome an inhabitant for another night, but no one came to muss the sheets. Tifa went into dust perfunctorily, but otherwise touched nothing, leaving even the empty soda can on the desk as if it would bring its consumer back.
Marlene saw.
Denzel, now asleep, the blemishes of geostigma not going away. Sometimes better, sometimes worse. Today had started out a better day, until it got worse again. He'd ask her where is Cloud as if the answer was anything new, was it all his fault, and suddenly he was crying out, sobbing in pain; until Tifa came running up the stairs, soothing him with gentle words and a potion pushed to his lips, not a cure but enough to take the pain away so Denzel could go to sleep.
Marlene heard.
Tifa, crying at night behind a door shut tight, hoping the children were too sound asleep to hear. Many nightsthey probably were. But Marlene had heard her enough times to know there were many more.
Across the hall, she heard the phone ring in the office, Tifa plodding rhymically upwards to take the call. Another message for the delivery service; she'd pass on the order to a mechanical voicemail, the recipient never picking up – but somehow the deliveries got done and money showed up like magic. But never the man who had earned it.
Marlene dreamed.
She could see the sky. They'd told her she'd grown her first years without it, but she couldn't remember outside, just the wood walls of a run-down bar that always seemed perfect to her, because it felt like home.
It was where Papa came. It was where Tifa lived. It was where Cloud had bent down to give a little girl a flower, in her earliest clear memory. And only a day or two later, the flower girl had come to take her away, had shown her things she'd never imagined, told her to follow the yellow flowers – and then that home was gone.
The flower lady – she'd said the sky frightened her. Marlen wondered why.
The sky was supposed to be open. Hopeful. That meant things got better, right? She couldn't remember BEFORE, so she didn't know if this was better. But it was what she knew now. Mako had given them pleasant, comfortable lives, but they had been taking the life away from the Planet. Papa told her that's why he had to go. Was this the Planet's way of getting back at them?
Maybe the Planet was a lot madder than they thought…
Some days, Tifa's voice was all that got him through.
She didn't know. He wished he could tell her, but that would betray his iron resolve not to let her hurt. Not to let ger see. Give her a clean break. Eventually, she wouldn't call anymore…
…but the calls never stopped.
He clapped the phone shut, the echo of her voice in his ears. Delivery calls, mostly. He'd keep on working as long as he could sit up straight on the bike; the one thing he could do for her still. Ease some of the burdens of raising her family. Not theirs – he'd given up his right to that. He wouldn't have much longer to pretend towards that dream, anyway.
But at the end of every call, those last few words that ate him up every time, whispers that she still cared. Cloud, how have you been? Even when he was so far from deserving it anymore, as if he ever had been; why was she still reaching for him? Be careful, Cloud. What a fool to believe that he could have her in the way he'd always dreamed of, a few short months, a year and then some, pretending there could still be a happily-ever-after. The pain of THAT was so much more than –
Thepainthatgrippedhisarm hunchinghimforward grittinghisteeth A moment, an eternity, he endured, before it throbbed away to something tolerable, something he could almost ignore. A little worse every time, the only consolation being that probably mean he was nearer the death he couldn't avoid. His eyes watered through the burning stun, untold seconds where all he could think of how much better off Tifa would be once he was gone, once false hope didn't keep her reaching out to him. But he couldn't just give up, give in.
Kicking the bike into gear, he headed to his next destination.
He'd just come from Healen Lodge; surprised to find Rufus Shinra a pitiable wreck, a trace of a black mark seen for a second before Rufus drew his hand back into his sleeve showing the bond of geostigma they shared. Disease on top of injury; not a fate he had wished for the man, but he couldn't find much sympathy, especially after hearing Rufus out. Think about it, Cloud. All we want is to rebuild our world. And Shinra could be the way.
Not interested.
Still, it hadn't been a futile trip. Kadaj and his gang. Those must have bene the strange and their shadow dogs that had set upon him today. They'll be after you as well, Rufus has said, if they haven't already found you – as if the man had known.
Your ties to Sephiroth run as deep as outs do.
Rufus had told him things he feared, asked him to join them in this fight. We need someone with your SOLDIER expertise.
What's this about Mother, Cloud had asked.
Why, Rufus had replied, did Kadaj say something?
(Where's Mother, one man had asked, careening wildly to keep up with Cloud. We know you hid her, Brother, said another.)
What did Rufus know he wasn't telling?
Enough. Cloud had floored it out of Healen, angry and aimless, but needing some reinforcement, he knew where he had gto go.
He hadn't been back to this hill since settling down in Edge – the sword hadn't fared as well as he had hoped. Someone had kicked it to the ground; he had a shadowy inkling of who. Dismounting, he walked over and straightened it with the soft lover's touch he'd always given Tifa – planting it solidly in the ground once more, he stood back to pay his respects, remembering.
I said I'd live out both our lives. Easy to make that promise.
Zack, who had driven him forward, allowed him to become what he was today. Or had been. But here he was, unable to keep the simple vow he'd made over a dying friend. Trying vainly to keep his promise to Tifa in some way, if not to Denzel, if not to Zack.
Rust covered the sword, Zack would have hated that. He could faintly remember the other man cleaning the thing with tender care, intolerant of a single blemish. A memory from the time of their escape. Memories static, fragmented, but at least there was something there.
With so few memories of his own, he clung that much more dearly to whichever he could grasp. More might or might not come with time; meanwhile, he would have to make do with what he had.
I swore I would never forget. I tried. But I…
It struck again, blinding this time, bringing him to his knees. Stars flew in front of his eyes as vision dimmed; a hollow echo of Sephiroth's voice, another reminder that death was near. Ever c loser, every day, and he wondered why he was fighting so hard to keep a life that was already gone.
Tifa.
His promise to Tifa. Had he kept it? He wasn't sure if there was some statute of limitations, but his end would be… the end of that too. He'd live as long as he could, trying to keep what he could of his promise to Tifa, if not his promise to Denzel, his promise to Zack.
He forced himself back up to his feet, doomed apparently to survive another day. Leaving the sword to its silent vigil, he could only let one thought filter into his misery.
Zack… Tifa… I never forgot my promises…
Marlene watched Denzel carefully; it looked like he'd finally fallen asleep. Every time he had a bad day, she got worried again,, and she whispered to the flower lady, please don't take Denzel away…
Marlene hoped she had heard.
He'd been having more and more bad days since Cloud had left, too. Cloud, where are you, Denzel had moaned, and Marlene wondered the same – even if she knew, Cloud had left, she didn't know the where; she wished she DID know, so she could tell Tifa.
As if Marlene's thoughts had summoned her, Tifa put her head through the door. "Just checking on the two of you," Tifa said hastily.
Tifa looked so sad. She always did lately, but MORE so today – she'd heard Tifa leave the message, know that Cloud hadn't picked up – again. It made Marlene so mad.
She'd trued to ask the flower lady – but she didn't get any answers. Couldn't really talk to her; just kind of got feelings when she tried. But that gave her an idea… something that might make Tifa feel better.
"You know what we should do? We should go visit the flowers!" Marlene declared. Tifa smiled, just a little bit, and she kind of looked a little bit happier and a little bit sadder at the same time. Was that possible? Marlene wasn't' sure. "We haven't been there in a really long time!"
Or ever, thought Tifa. She knew Barret had taken Marlene once before he'd left – Marlene had bubbled all over talking about it when they'd returned – but she herself had never taken the girl. She'd meant to go with Cloud, but… Maybe it was time. Even if it meant facing feelings and fears she'd been avoiding.
It wouldn't be much of an excursion for Denzel, though, tired as he was. His memories from there were last of Cloud finding him in the dirt and trash. Would that make his memories of the church good, or bad? Maybe both. He son's eyes focused on her, for the moment wide and alert; as much as she hated to leave him there, there wasn't much she could do for him right now. "How are you feeling g, Denzel?" she asked.
"I'm alright," he said, rolling towards her; she didn't miss the way his attention lingered on the photos by his bed. She'd replaced the family photo at his request with one of Cloud and just the children; taking the place of an absent father, whereas he could see his mother every day. She tried not to be hurt. "I'll probably get out of bed for a little while. You guys should go."
Marlene cheered, promising Denzel she'd bring him new flowers to put next to the bed with the pictures and his wooden toy chocobo. Tifa wished she could share Marlene's enthusiasm, but she couldn't shake her worries as she gathered together the few small things they would need for the trip. Keys, a few gil, her gloves that she never went anywhere without, even to a place with no danger like the church.
It was with a burdened heart that she and Marlene finally decided they were ready to leave, carefully locking the door behind them and stepping out into the streets of Edge.
Denzel had planned to try to get up, at least for a little while; but it took an hour or so before he really could. Still, eventually he felt a bit better, just enough to go down the stairs and into the bar, wandering through the open space, lonely without Cloud or the rest of his family to cheer it up.
He'd been staring towards the window when he heard a rumble that sounded familiar; eagerly, desperately, he ran to the door, throwing it open just in time to see a motorcycle speeding past.
It wasn't Cloud's bike… it wasn't Cloud. It was a weird silver haired man he'd never seen before; when he looked back at Denzel, he laughed, looking kind of crazy. He roared down the street, not even paying attention to the other people who jumped out of the way. Cloud would never have acted like that.
Crushed, he plopped down on the front stoop as the noise vanished away. Not Cloud. He'd been hoping so badly. He sat there for a long time, wanting to cry, but determined to hold back the tears. Cloud never cried.
A girl walked by, carrying a smaller boy on her back; a man stumbled into her, knocking her into a puddle. While Denzel watched, the man first offered a hand to help, then shrank away and shouting angrily as his hand came away covered in black goo – the same black ooze he himself bore – leaving the girl to pick herself up out of the mud.
She was about to walk away when Denzel noticed she'd dropped a stuffed animal behind her. It probably wasn't important, but… Denzel ran over to her, grabbing it along the way, only about to catch up to her because of the heavy burden she was carrying. He rushed in front of her, holding out the toy in offering.
"Uh…" he said, at a loss for words.
The girl snatched it from him, and for a split second as their eyes met, Denzel felt a flash of… something he didn't recognize. Something familiar… had he met her before?
The girl was a couple years older than him, and she was kind of pretty, but her face was marred by anger and hate. But just before she turned away, he could see the tears starting to form, and Denzel understood.
She's just like me…
The echo of Cloud's slamming of the door ricocheted in Rufus's head. Outside, he let nothing show, but inside the unfamiliar feeling of doubt ravaged him. Cloud… was an enigma. He'd found the man a formidable opponent; he even respected him, to a degree, in many ways the flip side to Rufus's own self.
But Cloud seemed afraid of Sephiroth still, even though he'd beaten the former SOLDIER twice. Could Cloud really be persuaded to join them? What might he and the Turks do to offer him a little extra… motivation?
Cloud was the key.
He'd send out Reno and Rude. Tail the man. Keep tabs on him. Be ready to help if they were needed. But most of all, push him in the direction they needed.
Under his robe, he softly caressed the invaluable metal case; bolted tightly enough shut to secure every cell of its valuable contents. The Remnants. Could they not sense it on their own? Then again, Cloud seemed not to have sensed the treasure either; or did he simply decline to acknowledge the pull?
The pull of Reunion… Hojo's mad theory, being validated even as the scientist was gone and unmourned.
He was contemplating this when darkness began to seep into the room, squeezing through the seams of the door like whispers of death. Despite himself, Rufus felt his stomach drop, memories of darkened water that had brought the blackness he now carried inside his body. The coils resolved themselves before him into an eerily familiar sight, followed by a heavy, haunting voice –
Found you.