I want to give a li'l dedication to calytrix, for the Aerith/Cloud moments here. Because even though this story is serious Cloti, she was willing to give it a chance it even BEFORE I put the pairing tags on. Thanks, caly!

Chapter 69. December 15 (9pm) December 16 (9am), εуλ0009

Four hours.

That was the time to the Forgotten City, if he kept Fenrir roaring at top speed. Maybe a little less. The full moon above followed his passage as he pushed mile after mile; the reckless abandon with which he drove kept his mind off what he'd rather not think about what lay ahead.

For a time, anyways.

Aerith could feel Cloud drawing closer, closer still. Feel his dread, feel his courage underneath, like the wolf he had adopted as his symbol. And the closer he came, the nearer she could reach.

He'd last been here to bring the bouquet for Elmyra, a symbol of the remembrance they both shared. The pain that wouldn't leave. A city emblematic of how easily things could be taken from him.

He wasn't eager to return. But he had a greater reason, now.

She'd gotten so close at the church, her place of power, just enough to heal their injuries in those few crucial seconds; his fear and love for Tifa coming off him in waves that almost brought her to tears. Almost touched him… but then Geostigma attacked, Sephiroth's mark blocking her touch once again.

Now, she was trying again, ever since that moment between he and Tifa - when she felt his heart suddenly open up, like a flower bursting into bloom. Her need now was to keep him moving forward, keep that hope alive.

Phantom trees flew by on either side, a poltergeist blur that told him he was drawing near. Closer, and Cloud's mind couldn't get away from Tifa's last words. He'd made his choice, braved coming to this lonely spot once again, the worry for the children – his children, and all the others too – overtaking him. Slowly but surely.

What if he was too late?

The pain shot through his arm, and with the greatest effort he ignored it, flooring the accelerator, forcing the bike harder, faster –

- The blockage, the stigma, disappearing in the one moment as his determination came flaring through, and focusing all her strength, Aerith bent the Lifestream to her will – and this time she made contact.

The world rammed to a sudden halt, and Cloud stumbled with momentum, thinking he'd hit something – only to realize a split second later that the bike was gone, and the forest with it. He was surrounded by white, a field of flowers at his feet.

He knew this place.

He could feel her back pressed against his, feeling firm and alive. Here, where senses were heightened, he could feel her warmth, smell her floral scent competing with the flowers, sweetness intermingling.

How he'd wanted to see her again - but now, given the chance, he was afraid to see the look in her eyes.

Aerith, I'm so sorry…

You came, she whispered to him, the silver chimes he'd so wanted to hear. Even though you're about to break. That's a good sign.

Her fingers brushed his sleeve as if she could sense the taint hidden underneath; he shivered from the softness, the tenderness of her touch, for a moment, the worst of the pain was gone. His breath caught; he was afraid to speak, as if the illusion could be destroyed merely by the sound of her voice.

The hurt, the hurt rolling off him – Cloud, her charge, her care - this close, it was overwhelming, and if it was nearly too much for HER to bear – how did HE endure? She knew. A heart so fragile, over an inner strength that never broke. That was the Cloud she knew.

But even as she wanted to break down and cry right along with him – but she had to stay strong. To guide him, help him find his strength too. To push forward, face his fears – even if the worst came to pass.

Cloud hung his head in shame; eyes downcast, the flowers filled his vision. What had they been trying to say? He struggled for words, not sure how to describe needs and wants and hopes, and the one most of all… "I think…" he began, halting. "I think… I want to be forgiven. More than anything."

Cloud, Aerith thought; a man so filled with guilt, with remorse, that it was eating him alive. And no way of knowing that he still had a long road stretching ahead. It was her job to make sure he stayed the path.

Forgiveness… "By who?" she asked cheekily, as if she didn't know.

Cloud's silence, he too afraid to say, to scared to remind them both of a memory he wished he could forget. what had happened. "I never blamed you, not once," she said, and all her heart was in the meaning. "You came for me. That's all that matters."

"But," Cloud swallowed thickly, words weighing on his tongue, the admission that needed to be released. "I let you die…"

"Cloud…" she began. So much he had been through; so much still to be discovered and endured. Trust in yourself, Cloud. I believe in you. "Isn't it time you did the forgiving?"

…forgiving…

The word echoed in his ears, and he opened his mouth to speak…

- And whatever he'd meant to say was suddenly lost as the white collapsed to darkness, and he was back on Fenrir, roaring through the forest –

Aerith… Tifa…

Two reasons not to fail.

Sparks barreled towards him and he careened, dodging the hail of bullets as he dodged towards the shooters. He ripped his sword out of its compartment, sharpened eyesight recognizing the men who had pursued him earlier – but at a signal from the one in the middle, a crowd of lost children dropped from the bony branches above, a human shield before him.

He attention zoomed to, right in front – Denzel. And Marlene.

Marlene had been shaking Denzel, trying to bring him back to her – but it was too late, he had gone too far away. Sucked into the bad part of the Lifestream. The place where the scary men came from too. She heard the familiar noise of a motorcycle, and her hopes spiked – CLOUD! He was here!

He tore the handlebars to the left sending the bike skidding out of control and himself flying. Rolling over and over in the dirt, he came to a halt at the foot of the leader. This must be Kadaj. Cruelty splashed the other man's face Disoriented, he pulled himself up to a crouch to find himself eye to eye with Kadaj's blade, a disarmed offering to the man in front of him.

"Cloud!" screamed Marlene's voice, and Kadaj's head whipped around, giving Cloud the split-second opening needed to grab his sword and leap to his feet.

Dual wielding, he fought three against one – three with strength and responses to match his own. Which had been Tifa's assailant, he wondered distantly – no matter, he'd gladly make all three pay for the crime. But as the three rose over and over again, sparing Cloud not a moment, exertion began to catch him, and as Kadaj appeared before him, unbridled hate in his eyes, one wild stroke sent Cloud splattered to the ground.

Marlene had run when it started, but she hadn't run far. She'd seen Cloud taken down and she panicked, no, please, Cloud , get up… when out of nowhere, she saw a whirlwind of red, a tornado settling around Cloud, and she knew.

Vincent!

She didn't know where he had come from or how, but she silently cheered as the scary men tried to fight the invisible target before them. Vincent whipped wildly, grabbing Cloud in his clutches and taking him far away.

Marlene ran after them.

Another lake, another part of the forest.

Peaceful. Tranquil. Cloud sat on its bank, accompanied by weariness and solitude.

That was, except for Vincent.

"You sure we should wait for Marlene?" Cloud was itching with the urge to get up, search, do something to go find the child. Useless. It was Vincent's hand on his shoulder that stopped him.

That had been hours ago.

"I'm sure," Vincent replied. "Have patience."

Cloud hung his head, pulling into himself. "I knew I'd be no help," Cloud half-mumbled, expecting no answer from the man behind him. But there were things he had to know.

"Vincent," he started sharply, "what do you know about this?"

"I've been watching." Vincent paced, dropping to kneel down beside Cloud and look intently at him. He grabbed Cloud's arm at the source of his disease, as if he knew, as if Aerith had. Cloud winced involuntarily, wondering how much Vincent could see. The pain faded as Vincent released his grip and rose, and began to explain.

Jenova.

The same thing he'd be infected with for the rest of his life. No wonder he'd caught the disease. He listened closely as Vincent described the current of life inside the body; its opposite, the negative Lifestream that fought it. Drawing in the souls of those who died by Geostigma, those poor individuals absorbed rather than being freed to have their consciousness diffused as was natural, congealing towards the ultimate goal.

Heaven's dark harbinger.

Sephiroth. His return, and Cloud knew with out knowing how that he was the key. The nucleus Sephiroth needed.

Cloud couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let himself be used, controlled, again.

Vincent stood, examining the young man in whom he saw so much of himself. Suffering under the weight of sins for which he there was no atonement, still struggling to find a way anyways.

Vincent wanted to tell him. Doing nothing was always an option.

Sometimes, sins were just there to be borne. Vincent had his own secrets – his assumed parentage of the man – no, the monster - he'd helped bring down. An act of mercy, a white lie, to a woman he once had loved. But there would be no forgiveness.

A rustle in the bushes, and Cloud and Vincent jumped as one, poised for action like the warriors they were. But to Cloud's surprise, it was only Marlene who came tearing out of the bushes, slamming right into him and throwing her arms around him, seeking his safety. Instinctively, he placed protective hands around her shoulders, trying to soothe the agitated girl in front of him.

"Cloud! Tifa! Denzel!" she cried.

"Tifa is safe," Cloud assured her.

Marlene wanted more. "I want to talk to her!" Cloud fished in his pockets futilely, silently cursing at a brief recollection of his phone flying out of his pocket and splashing into a pool, his head echoing with the messages lost.

Frustration crossed Marlene's face as she realized it was gone; she looked to Vincent, hoping. Vincent only threw his red cloak open, crushing Marlene's hopes once again with the nothing he carried. He couldn't bear to see her disappointment. Enough. It was time to get this child home. "Vincent, will you bring Marlene to Tifa?" he half asked, half demanded. "I'm going to Shinra. I need some real answers."

Vincent was not without sympathy; but he couldn't allow Cloud to run from his responsibilities. Couldn't be a part of that; couldn't facilitate Cloud's escape from what was right in front of him. "I can't do that."

"But I –" protested Cloud, Marlene interrupting before he could finish.

"Forget it, Cloud!" she screamed in frustration. "Why don't you ever pay any attention to US!" Tears welling, she ran to Vincent, let him shelter his cloak protectively over her, finally, finally feeling safe.

Cloud tried to explain – as badly a she ever had. A battle to be fought – but not about fighting. Something he didn't entirely understand himself, so it wasn't surprising that neither did Marlene, as she peeped her head out from under Vincent's cover and he found himself staring into two disapproving faces.

Vincent, sternly expressioned as ever as ever. "Cloud, are you sure this is about fighting?"

A memory or us…

Cloud wasn't.

I want to be forgiven…

"Are sins ever forgiven?" he asked.

Vincent's answer. "I've never tried."

Never tried…

He had a choice. He'd made it.

"Marlene, let's go," he suddenly announced with vigor, as a new determination took hold and he knew what he had to do. With a smile, she ran to him – and he took her tiny hand in his.

"Well, I'm going to try," he called back, as the two of them started the journey back home.

Late. Approaching dawn.

They were out of the forest, his loneliness left behind, staring into the lake. But miles still lay ahead. Marlene's grip on him had loosened, as exhaustion took over.

He pulled to the side of the road, a promising hollow, before Marlene went limp and fell off Fenrir completely. She yawned as he lifted her off, seating her next to him on the ground.

"Cloud," she raised her eyes, "we'll be home soon, right?"

"We will," he told her. "I promise. But you need to sleep."

Too tired to protest, Marlene clambered into his lap, curling into a little ball of girl. He recognized it, the same way she cuddled against Tifa, wanting to be held. Carefully, he put his arms around her the way he'd seen Tifa do so many times. She snuggled closer, and was almost immediately asleep, leaving Cloud to marvel at the small burden in his arms.

Smaller even than Denzel. Tiny but strong. Cloud wondered, had he ever really held a child before? It was a feeling he recognized from putting his arms around Tifa, the sense of something invaluable to protect, and as he sat there in the middle of nowhere holding Marlene in her sleep, he felt an unfamiliar peace wash over him.

He could get used to this.

The hours grew closer to dawn, and Marlene slept on. Cloud did the math. He'd wake her up soon; they'd be back by eleven, maybe even ten if he rushed – which he didn't want to do, even as worried as he was. And they'd reunite with Tifa, and get Denzel back home, - and everything would be alright. He hoped.

Despite his efforts to stay awake, he drifted into a half-doze. Dreaming now of Aerith.

Isn't it time you did the forgiving?

And as his eyes snapped open to a sun climbing in the sky, he realized something Tifa had probably known all along.

Forgiveness was in living.