.

Chapter XXVII – Home Is Where the Heart Aches

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"Here we are. End of tha line."

Marlene squeezed her father's hand in response as he took his last step off the winding railway, eyes of burnt umber passing a cursory glance over the ramshackle houses and patchwork tents dotting the rocky expanse before him. Cradled between a crown of mountains, a myriad of modest homes made up the quaint town tucked away in the spacious gap and it was a sight Barret knew all too well.

Corel. Home.

"It appears a lot more… welcoming than I remember," Red audibly mused, padding up beside the hulking man with a telltale jingle of bracelets. "Or perhaps it's the lanterns. They remind me of home…"

While Barret gave a vague nod of his head, Nanaki's soft inflection set Tifa's heart to ache. She followed up behind her old friend with a brush of her duster, placing a gentle hand over his muscled shoulder to give it a soft squeeze. Casting russet eyes to join umber, Tifa followed Barret's gaze.

The spreading black of night was broken by droplets of deep orange and flickering yellow dotted all across town. Small fires lit in the comfort of a canvas tent or concrete shack glowed warm and inviting in the darkness and the fighter couldn't help but share in some of the warmth, her heart rekindled to burn a homesick flame which rivalled Nanaki's own.

From her peripheral, a different kind of glow approached her back and she turned to meet the bright blood-red eyes of Vincent. A crimson aura leaked out into the night from his gaze like blood tainted ink and, even in the darkness, the sunken shadow which fell across his eyes was evident. The fighter's breath suddenly caught and held captive in her throat. Ear swivelling in her direction, Nanaki quickly turned around only for him to give a few rapid blinks of his ochre-coloured eye in response.

'How curious! His eyes burn as bright as my tail…'

Dutifully ignoring them both, Vincent averted his gaze before eventually letting his eyes fall shut to stem the bleed. Turning away to face the dark-skinned man at the end of her arm, Tifa found Barret had barely glanced back at the minor commotion; his gaze hazy and unfocused in a maelstrom of memories the fighter could only hazard a guess at. Red XIII watched them carefully, tail ember flicking to and fro to waver like the unsteady flame of a candlewick.

"What is this, happy hour?"

Yuffie's interruption fell welcome upon the fire-dog's ears and he felt the tense air drift away as easily as the wind did through his fur. Bouncing up behind the group with an armful of feathers, the young ninja glanced back to check on her even younger charge who traced her steps in a tired shamble. Satisfied Denzel was closing the distance, she turned back to the sight that lay ahead.

"Sooo… is everyone just gonna keep standing 'round looking wistful or are we actually gonna get moving?"

"We were just appreciating the scenery…. now that we actually have the chance." Nanaki wrinkled his nose, ears still ringing from the Cockatolis' prior pursuit. Yuffie responded by stomping her laced boot into the dirt.

"That wasn't ENTIRELY my fault, ya know! If a mother bird can't tell the difference between a bunch of feathers and its own chicks, then it should go and get its eyes checked!"

Nanaki blinked his own feline eye at her outburst and opened his mouth to speak when he abruptly noted one of the party to be missing. Ears pricking upright, he turned his head and scanned the group. Finding a lack of glittering gold crown and white patched fur, the fire-dog picked up his head in alarm.

"Cait Sith?"

"Ah'm 'ere!" Cait Sith's head followed the muffled cry as it popped out from the bundle of down clutched in Yuffie's arms, the feline sputtering feathers from his mouth and pawing frantically at his little pink tongue.

"You look like the cat that ate the canary," Nanaki said with a level gaze.

"Aye, the canary almoost bloody ate me! Ah had tae hide in all this Phoenix Doon an' thae smell's drivin' me radge!"

"'Radge'?" Yuffie snorted, "Anyway, it's your fault for jumping into it head first to begin with!" She shook her arms and jostled the robotic feline to fall at her feet with a vocal, 'oomph.' "At least it clued big bird in I was carrying booty – not babes!"

"So when do you plan on sharing your newfound wealth?" Nanaki spoke up, padding over to Cait Sith and nudging the cat to his feet with a gentle nuzzle of his nose.

The ninja gawked. "Are you kidding!? Finders keepers!"

The crunch of gravel underfoot made Cait Sith plant two gloved hands over Nanaki's brow and unceremoniously shove the fire-dog's head down below his own. Standing on the very tiptoes of his boots, the little puppet peered over Red's crown of mohawk to watch Tifa approach with a lazy sway of her hips.

"I think you should share," the fighter casually joined in. "It's only fair compensation after having us run half the way here."

"Wait, w-what!? No way!"

Before Yuffie could fully voice her indignation, a soft tug on her satchel belt snapped her gaze down to the small hand responsible. Denzel looked up with an awkward stare before his eyes flickered over to Tifa. Suddenly aware of her audience, he quickly averted his azure gaze and returned to making a sheepish shuffle on the spot.

"Errm… I kinda need the bathroom…" he muttered, cheeks turning red.

Yuffie blinked before nodding at the youngster with mock gravity. "Yeah, I think I already went back at the reactor."

The teen jumped as did Tifa and Nanaki when Barret's guffaw suddenly pierced the air. The dark-skinned man turned to shoot the ninja a huge grin, the whites of his teeth visible in the dark.

"Ah think you an' me both," he remarked, a bite of irony to his tone.

"That laugh! Barret…? Is that you?"

The man in question turned to meet the direction of the mellow voice, huge brows lifting as did the corners of his lips. A figure began to emerge from the dusk and Nanaki padded towards the vague silhouette, nose high in the air as was Cait Sith who now sat atop his head. Tifa followed close behind, curiosity compelling her feet in much the same way it did Yuffie's and Denzel's.

Red XIII's tail flame banished the surrounding shadows on his approach and unveiled the mystery speaker. Mocha skin fell awash in an orange glow, revealing eyes of matching colour and kindly crows feet that showed someone who took to smiling through life's hardships. What truly struck most of the party, however, was the bushy head of auburn hair that accompanied the light chocolate shade of skin.

"Esther!" Marlene cried, letting go of her father's hand to skip up to the older woman. The red-head smiled, quickly bending down to hug the girl close to the frayed hemline of her dress.

"Oh Marlene, you look bigger already! Have you been good while you were away?"

The girl in question looked up from the denim pinafore she'd buried her face in and smiled her answer with an enthused nod. As she began to tell the woman of the flower fields she'd passed through and the flocks of daffodils they'd found, with animated points and gestures throughout, Barret hulked over rubbing a huge index finger under his nose.

"Hey, Esther. It's good ta see ya," Barret grinned, tired but genuine. "Been holdin' up tha homefront?"

"Now you know that's your job, but I've been doing the best I can while you were away." The wrinkles around her eyes deepened. "Are these your friends...?" she asked, straightening from her crooked posture in order to look over each of the party in turn, wisps of hair falling from her waterfall braid in a cascade of auburn.

"You bet." Barret turned to look over his shoulder. "Yo, y'all gunna say hello or are y'all jes' gonna keep standin' there?"

"I didn't know you were so popular, Barret," Tifa spoke up first with a smile, walking closer while Denzel partly shielded himself behind her leather duster. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Tifa."

"Tifa?" Esther blurted, eyes suddenly alight. "So you're the famous Tifa Lockhart! Barret talks about you all the time, believe it or not." The mocha-skinned woman gently nudged Barret's elbow with her own, causing the man to roughly scratch the back of his neck and Tifa to slowly raise an elegant brow. "It's so good to meet you at last," Esther smiled a kind smile. "You're a lot more stunning in person than what Barret described. It's no wonder he's so fond of you." She turned to regard the gun-armed man with a soft quirk of her lips, though it stretched a little thin. "I'm sure you two will be very happy together."

Tifa gawked and spun to face Barret with a prominent flush. Barret's mouth moved but no words came out. Instead, he waved his huge trunk-like arms while Tifa made a few frantic and awkward gestures of her index finger between the two – nearly matching Marlene's own gesticulations prior. Finally, she found her voice amidst Yuffie's poorly stifled snorts and sniggers.

"Wait- m-me and... Barret?! No, no, no, no-"

"Whoa! Yeah, it ain't like that! Tif's like mah lil' girl." After receiving a rather pointed look from Marlene, Barret paused before shrugging his gargantuan shoulders further into his jacket. "Well, mah big girl," he corrected with a grin.

"Oh! I see." Esther's smile once more returned in full and Tifa watched the older woman carefully, a small suspicion beginning to niggle at her more than her burning cheeks.

"Yeah! Anyway, Barret's like an Ancient compared to Tifa here!" Yuffie hopped up to join in with a grin. Barret shot her a look as dirty as the soil they stood on but it quickly dissolved when Esther started laughing.

"If that's true, then I'm not far off becoming one myself." Her eyes softened, light browns matching sugar cane skin. "And you are...?"

"The single white rose of Wutai, Yuffie Kisaragi!" Yuffie flicked the tails of her headband with a confident wave of her fingers. "And that's Cait Sith and Red XIII over there, but they're not important."

"Oi! And neither are you, ye cheeky hen!" the puppet exclaimed with an indignant hop.

"I'm well capable of introducing myself, and with my proper name at that..." Red shook his head and sent Cait Sith sliding down the spiked mane lining his neck until the cat settled at his shoulder blades. "My name is Nanaki. Well met." He smiled the equivalent of a canine smile, pointed teeth peeking out from beneath modest flews. "If I may, you have a most interesting shade of hair colour for your skin. Is it natural?"

Barret's look of disdain quickly returned and he made to show Red his disapproval, but the red-haired woman behind him simply stifled a laugh. "I could say the same thing about your coat," she remarked, "but yes, it's natural!" When Nanaki tilted his head at the same time Yuffie tilted her own, Esther's smile only grew wider. "I get asked that more than I care to admit. My father was a red-head and a miner from Kalm, but when the mines shut down because of the Midgar Zoloms, he relocated to Corel looking for work. That's where he met my mother and, well, here I am."

"Wouldn't that make you really old...?" Denzel piped up with a waver as he stepped out from behind Tifa's calves.

"Denzel, manners!" Tifa chastised, quickly sending the boy scurrying back behind her leather duster once more. Hands planted on hips, the fighter peered down at the boy with a furrowed brow all the while Barret ran a huge hand down his face. She turned towards the older woman with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about that."

"That's quite alright. I'm a teacher so I'm used to it," the redhead chuckled, her spirit not dampened in the slightest. "It's actually a good thing to be able to speak your mind." She aimed a kind smile at Denzel who peeked around the side of Tifa's legs, only for the orphan to hastily return to his hiding place.

"Sorry Esther, most of these foo's jes' dunno how to be polite," Barret grumbled, crossing mighty arms over his white fishnet vest. On catching sight of a tall figure cloaked in the darkness Red's tail-flame couldn't reach, the ex-AVALANCHE leader's gaze turned into a leer. "Speaking of bein' polite..."

At Barret's trailed note, all eyes turned to follow the man's gaze. Sensing their attention – but more so Barret's directed accusation – Vincent shifted and made to approach with an idle gait. Stepping from the shadows, Esther's breath audibly caught in her throat and the gunslinger paused with a near flinch. Averting his gaze, he came to a stop with the clink of gold solleret on stone.

Remaining just within the light of Nanaki's flame, he regarded her with bleeding eyes and nodded into the depths of his cowl. "Vincent Valentine. My occupation is-"

He blinked, words clipped off a practised speech from over thirty-three years ago. A twisting mass of leeches lay waste to the cavities of his brain and finished for him with slick malice and oozing jocosity.

'MURDERER.'

Vincent quickly turned away as Chaos's laughter boomed in his head and seared his thoughts like an erupting volcano. "... Forget it."

At this point, Barret had all but facepalmed into his hand while Nanaki, Cait Sith, Yuffie, and even Denzel and Marlene, all observed the gunslinger with either a series of blinks or raised eyebrows. Tifa, meanwhile, turned away wide eyes and visibly eased; the breath in her throat set free to ghost into the night.

"... Well, it's very nice to meet you all," Esther said, first to break the silence with an unsettled smile. "You must be tired from your journey and I imagine you'd all like to rest up so I won't keep you much longer. I bet you're glad to be back home, right, Barret?"

As if realising her words, the gun-armed man suddenly stiffened. Passing a tired grunt which suspiciously sounded like a worried groan, Barret looked away to run a hand over his cornrow-styled hair. "Err, yeah... think it's 'bout time we checked out an' got checkin' in, instead..."

"'Checking in'?" Tifa echoed. "What do you mean?" The fighter turned to her old friend in question just as Esther visibly perked.

"Wait, do you mean... the hotel? The hotel isn't finished yet, Barret."

"It ain't?!" Barret spun to face the mocha-skinned woman while Tifa rapidly blinked away her confusion. "I thought it was gettin' finished up when I left! What the hell have y'all been doin' while I was gone!?"

Esther rose her hands with a clatter of protest from the multi-coloured rosary beads hanging around her neck. "There was some urgent construction requests for the new bridge to be completed among other things," she soothed. "Considering Corel doesn't exactly get many visitors, the hotel was postponed."

"What's wrong? Can't we stay at yours, Barret?" Tifa turned to regard the dark-skinned man with curious concern, but it was Marlene's gaze which ultimately became his undoing. Wide, almost watery eyes held his attention and sagged the stout man's shoulders.

"Can't they stay, Daddy?" the little girl implored.

"But... there ain't no room..." Barret's protest was meek for the usually brazen man which only served to double Tifa's troubled mind, but before she could give voice to it, Esther did so for her.

"Don't be silly! I'm sure there's plenty of room for all your friends! And I bet Marlene would like to show off all her wonderful drawings, wouldn't you, Marlene?" On hearing this, the little girl positively beamed and shot a wide, white-toothed grin at Esther who returned it in kind.

Barret's frown only furrowed even deeper grooves upon his brow. "Guess I could mebbe squeeze 'em in somewhere..." he finally relented, causing Marlene to dart over to her father with barely contained joy. Pressing a brief hug to his left leg with an exclaimed, 'Thank you!', the seven-year-old wasted no time in grabbing a squirming Denzel's hand and dragging him down a darkened path she knew only all too well.

"Err, h-hey! Wait up!" Yuffie barely had time to protest, stumbling after the enthused girl who just waved behind her with a, 'Come on, it's this way!' and a laugh as carefree as the passing clouds. With a dramatic roll of chestnut eyes, the ninja bounced forward on lanky legs to give chase with a loud, "Urgh, kids these days!" Nanaki quickly followed after the eloping children with hurried bounds, equally caught by surprise judging by his pricked ears and Cait Sith's pleas for the two 'bairns' to slow down.

"You sure know how to get 'er goin'!" Barret sniffed, attempting to mask the grin on his face to no avail.

"She might have been away from my classroom for a few weeks, but Marlene hasn't changed. And in all these years, neither have you," Esther smiled, the lost warmth of Nanaki's tail-flame replaced by her fond inflection.

Tifa looked between her old friend and the mocha-skinned woman before she decided to let it go and mind her own business – she didn't want to lose sight of Denzel and Marlene, after all. While the little girl let her heart lead the way, Tifa only had her eyes and they didn't serve her all too well in the dark. Catching a familiar figure in the black, she politely excused herself and moved to tail after the trailing tatters of Vincent's cape as the gunslinger melted into the shadows with a casual stride.

Soft umber eyes watched Tifa leave as did light brown, Esther joining Barret's side to stand in a silence most relaxed and homely. Just as the man's gaze began to narrow on catching Vincent's retreating shadow by lantern light, the redhead by his side called him to attention.

"Barret... have you told her, yet?"

"Huh?" The ex-AVALANCHE leader turned to face sceptical mocha eyes and he suddenly fought the urge to rub at his thick beard. Realising what Esther was referring to, he instead settled for scratching the back of his trunk-like neck. "Oh, yeah... Naw, I ain't told 'er."

"You know, the longer you leave it, the harder it's going to be."

"I know, I know... I'll tell 'er, a'ight?" Barret gave a confident nod to ease the redhead's concern and took a moment to heave a breath of much missed Corel air. The creases around Esther's eyes deepened and she turned away with a clatter of rosary beads.

"It's really good to see you back, but I'm afraid I need to get going. Those homework papers aren't going to grade themselves!"

Barret's chuckles rippled through his shoulders before he shot her a mighty grin. "Ya know, you ain't changed all that much either. Yer still tha workaholic I left a couple'a weeks ago!"

Esther gave a soft chortle but it held self-conscious reservation in the form of a shy smile. Shaking auburn locks, she motioned for the dark-skinned man to join his compatriots before they completely retreated into the dusk. "You best be going too, or you might lose them."

"Not if they know any betta'. I promised 'em some good ol' fashioned Wallace brew, an' they ain't gettin' none of it without me!"

As Barret pound a self-assured fist into his chest, Esther could no longer contain her mirth. "Of course," she laughed, "who could possibly pass that up! No one, that's who."

"Dayum straight." Barret shot her one last grin which the redhead returned in kind. Wishing him a quiet goodnight, the older woman began to retrace her steps and pick back through the maze of tents and shanties. The gun-armed man made to turn away but hesitated. Scratching under the collar of his puffy white vest, he cleared his throat with a light, gravel-laced cough.

"Ya know..." Barret began. "Why don't cha drop by fer a cup, sometime?"

The teacher paused mid-step over a tent peg and attaching guy-line, denim pinafore partly bundled in her hands. While she straightened to smooth the creases from her frayed dress, she couldn't smooth the creases from the corners of her eyes as she turned towards him. "Well, there's no way I could turn down some Wallace brewed coffee from the maker himself! Sure, I'd like that." With one last, warming smile aimed just for him, Esther carefully stepped around the myriad of tent pegs pinned in the ground and continued on her path home.

As they parted ways, Barret's gaze lingered on the redhead's back until the shimmers of her auburn hair were just passing glints in the lamp light. Resisting the urge to grin and the itch to whistle, the hulking man turned to follow his own path when a faint silhouette behind a nearby junk pile made him freeze. Shaking from his self-induced paralysis, Barret resisted the new impulse to swear and continued towards Tifa who patiently awaited his approach with folded arms. Purposely avoiding her gaze as he trudged past, the fighter fell into step by his side with a smooth stride; not a single word uttered between them.

Knowing she'd returned for him after no doubt noting his prolonged absence, he refrained from asking the obvious. But while Barret could ignore the mischievous glimmer to her russet gaze, he couldn't ignore the burning question of just how long had she been standing there for. Before he took the opportunity to ask, however, the woman at his side seized it first.

"So... Coffee, huh?" Tifa added with a roguish grin, sidling into Barret to give him a playful shove.

"Shaddap, Tif'. Jeez..."

Laughing, the fighter continued to tease her old friend as they headed towards the faint beacon of Nanaki's tail-flame; the two following the only moving light amongst the lanterns.

"""

~ oOo ~

"""

"Welcome home, Daddy!"

Marlene's jovial and arm-spread invitation permeated the silence which fell heavy upon the party like night's shroud. Situated high on the third level of a series of small mesas, a rugged and stocky structure lay which very much befit the description of its owner. Reclining against one of Corel's mountains, the shack stood resolute in the face of the elements, proudly bearing its cracks and scars for the world to see like a weathered soldier. Gazing up at the hovel, the party looked over its crumbling brickwork in complete silence while the shanty in turn overlooked them with complete indifference.

Paying his companions no heed, Barret brushed past Tifa and an equally stunned Nanaki to trudge up the two inclining pieces of salvage set into the cliff sides to act as makeshift ladders. Climbing a rotten wooden board then a sheet of scrap metal which, judging by the symbols etched into its plating, used to be one of Midgar's old motorway signs, he soon reached the top and to the side of the little girl who squirmed excitedly outside their home. Taking a moment to ruffle Marlene's hair whilst mindful of the golden Condor feather laced between her tresses, he reached deep into the side pocket of his green cargo pants. Pulling out a hefty, rust-bitten key – much too slowly for Denzel's comfort as the boy practically danced outside the door – Barret thrust the piece into the keyhole and turned it with a definite click and grate of protesting metal.

Curling the steel fingers of his right hand, the gun-armed man pressed his knuckles to the peeling paint of the door with a gentle bump of his fist.

'Good ta see ya still in one piece. Keep standin' strong. One of us gotta...'

After a moment, he withheld an encumbering sigh and pressed his fist further into the cracked wood. The door pushed inwards with a long, juddering groan and swing on its frame to match.

"Here we are... Home sweet home."

The words barely left his mouth before Denzel scampered inside, spurred on by a full bladder to blindly make a beeline for wherever he thought to be the bathroom. Marlene was quick to follow with a sunny twirl of her white laced skirt, spinning into the darkness to seek out the nearest light with a happy hum.

Shuffling huge boots across the threshold, Barret let his mind fill in the room's obstacles as he manoeuvred his giant mass to what he knew to be the far wall. Crouching to one knee, he squinted for the box of old machinery tucked away in the corner. A momentary fumble later, he grasped what he was looking for. Taking firm hold, Barret wrenched his arm back with practised ease and pulled the thick black cord tight between his fingers. With a sputter and a deep-seated cough, the electric generator chugged to life with a soft glug of gasoline, bringing the lights flickering on with it.

Standing, Barret turned to face the party as they each stepped through the door with care; feet slow and eyes wandering. When it became evident no one was willing to speak, the brazen man did so first.

"Well... make yerselves at home."

Yuffie's mumble was first to break the silence. "It's a real fixer-upper..."

Barret's glare cut off the ninja mid muse and Yuffie quickly stood to attention under the lone light bulb hanging overhead. "Err, right! 'Make yourselves at home!' … Where?'"

While the teen peered around the room with a sniffy countenance, Nanaki stood to join her, his presence alone adding a warm glow to ward away the cold artificial light. Sharp ochre made a slow sweep across the ramshackle dwelling, wet nose twitching at the scent of stale air and rubble dust. As Red XIII observed what appeared to constitute for some kind of living room, Cait Sith slid from his mane-lined neck to drop to the bare concrete floor in silence.

A musty old sofa lay pushed up against the far wall, cotton bulging from its ripped seams to spill out like frothing sea foam. An old model television sat stacked upon a weathered crate opposite, its wires exposed to run across the floor like a circuit of train tracks until they eventually disappeared behind small cracks in the wall. Moth-eaten curtains hung draped across square gaps where windows should be, but instead were left empty and glassless. Night's cool breeze filtered through nibbled frays in the fabric and gently stirred any lingering dust across the floor like miniature tumbleweeds; as barren and bare bones as Corel's nearby desert.

Barren, but not lifeless.

Though Nanaki considered himself finished in his observations, his lone eye fell upon Tifa who remained at his back. Craning his neck, he watched the young woman take in the room with a slack jaw, head slowly turning with russet eyes wide. Wordless, Cait Sith began to make himself useful by scooping up stray balls of cotton into his arms that had tumbled from the sofa's innards. While Tifa fought to find a word and Nanaki one of comfort, Vincent stepped into the threshold with an air of quietude. Ducking beneath the door frame, the gunslinger returned to his looming height and came to stand by Tifa's side just as Marlene returned from the far corridor with a lantern grasped in both hands.

"'At's mah girl," Barret murmured with a grin that teased the stubbled corners of his mouth. Pointedly ignoring the others, he took the instrument from Marlene's hands and began to move into the adjoining room that made up his living space. Unscrewing the glass chimney from its base, Barret listened to the slosh of lantern oil inside but was soon interrupted by a soft set of footsteps intermingling with the melody. Glancing up, he watched Tifa walk under the cracked stone archway that was the entryway into his open kitchen. The fighter's eyes glistened in the dark to roam over an old patchwork tablecloth and myriad of outdated appliances before they finally met his own.

"Barret..."

The man in question held her gaze for a moment before he broke away to shift his eyes over her shoulder. Marlene was now busy tugging at the hand of a bewildered-looking Yuffie, the latter near dragged down the corridor by the seven-year-old to bare witness to the little girl's room. Meanwhile, Nanaki and Cait Sith both occupied themselves with clearing away the sofa's stray cotton batting while Vincent took to what little shadow he could find in the lit room and observed. Eyes of burnt umber narrowed in on the gunslinger's slumped shoulder, but before he could contemplate any further, Tifa spoke through the gloom.

"Barret, talk to me."

His gaze shifted back to the glimmers of russet he could just discern in the darkened kitchen. Blowing a harsh sigh through his nose, he turned away and once more began to fiddle with the lantern in his hands.

"What's there ta say?" he muttered as he turned his focus on adjusting the wick using the lamp's side key. Setting the instrument down on the centre table's patchwork cloth, the gun-armed man trod over to the row of kitchen units lining the far wall. Reaching over the sink to grab the tattered rag that made for a poor excuse of a curtain, he tugged the fabric away to reveal a windowless hole and a stream of moonlight that set the burnished metal of his prosthetic arm to glisten. Silver beams cut through the gloom like gleaming knife blades and Tifa's breath caught in her throat when she caught sight of the vista which lay framed within the square gap.

From the shack's high vantage point, the town of Corel was nothing more than a sea of glowing lights and blackened silhouettes; vestiges of life among the dark. Dots of orange blossomed through night's ink like dabs from a master's brush, creating a scene which could almost be mistaken for an oil painting.

"There's plenty to say..." Tifa eventually recovered, responding to Barret's earlier rhetoric with a lofty tone. While she remained taken with the beautiful vista the gap afforded, Barret used the natural light to guide him in his rummaging until he found a wrinkled old box from a nearby drawer. Sliding back the sleeve, he pulled out a long match from within and struck it sharply against the sandpapered edge. The stick sparked to life with the burst of a solitary flame. Returning to the table, Barret dropped heavily into the wooden chair whose back faced the entryway and lit the lantern wick, illuminating the kitchen in a soft, homely glow.

Replacing the glass chimney, Barret blew out the match with a heavy sigh that slumped his shoulders.

"... Alright. Whaddya wanna know?" he said with a resigned grumble.

Tifa spun towards him with a twitch of her brow. "Well, first of all, where's all your money going from Reeve?" When Barret avoided her gaze, Tifa resisted the urge to bite her lip. Marching away from the window, she stopped at the opposite end of the table. When the gun-armed man still didn't respond, the fight slammed her hands down on the surface. "You can't tell me he doesn't pay you enough that you have to live in squalor-!"

Barret quickly shushed her with a loud hiss, diving to catch the lantern that jostled in its place with a protesting flicker and slosh of oil. "Keep it down, would ya?!" he bit out through grit teeth. His eyes flicked over the collar of his padded vest. When it was apparent the others remained unperturbed in the other room, Barret heaved a relieved sigh and focused on readjusting the disturbed lantern. "Course not... It's jes that there's more important things to spend gil on."

Tifa opened her mouth, but the ex-AVALANCHE leader was quick to interrupt. "An' 'fore ya ask, Marlene's room ain't like the rest of tha house. Go check if ya don't believe me."

Tifa pursed her lips and removed herself from the table, straightening her back to study her old friend carefully. He remained transfixed with the flame encased in front of him. The fighter's gaze softened. The small wrinkles of his face suddenly appeared deeper in the soft light.

"Look." Barret lowered his voice to a throaty murmur. "The money I've bin gettin' paid's all been going somewhere. It's been going to tha town. Helpin' fix the place up a bit." The gun-armed man watched the slow sink in Tifa's shoulders before his gaze returned to the lantern ember. "Payin' for Marlene's schoolin' ain't enough, ya know? Ain't no good if the school itself's run down. So I do my part. Pay fer new equipment. Clothes and books... and Esther does me a good'un in turn by gettin' copies of all that nature stuff Marlene's interested in. Fer all that and helpin' Corel get back on its feet? I think I can do without some fancy crap for a while."

Shrugging further into his vest, Barret finished and looked up from the light to find Tifa now standing with her back towards him. A near eerie silence settled over the kitchen, occasionally permeated by the telltale accent of Cait Sith next door.

'Well, shit. Guess I done pissed her off fer not tellin' her.' Barret shook his head at the thought and began to study the plaid pattern of the tablecloth before him. Fighting the grimace that tugged at his lips, he brought up both hands and buried his face to wipe at his weary eyes. Before he could draw them away, however, a soft force enveloped him in a warmth that almost knocked him clean off his chair. Startled, Barret could only give a stunned blink at the fighter suddenly encircling his neck in an all-encompassing hug.

"I'm so sorry, Barret..." Tifa's muffled voiced floated up from the head of chocolate hair buried in his shoulder. Before he could ask why, the same arms which circled him began to squeeze in a little bit tighter. "But... why didn't you tell me?!" When the dark-skinned man continued to remain quiet, Tifa looked up to find her old friend tapping a single finger against her forearm. Getting the message, the woman loosened her grip and Barret made a quick, mock gasp for air.

"Dayum, Tif'! When'd you learn to hug like yours truly?" he grinned. When Tifa returned it, albeit weakly, Barret's own faltered. "Yo, don't be gettin' all sappy on me, ya hear? I didn't tell ya 'cuz you got enough of yer own shit ta worry about. And it ain't like this is anyone else's fault but my own."

"I know..." Tifa said with a hum of reluctance as she slowly returned her chin to rest on Barret's broad shoulder. "But you know I'm here if you need me, right?"

Barret's chuckles radiated through Tifa's very bones as he circled his own burly arms around her. "Heh... right. An' the same goes fer you, right?"

"Right," Tifa smiled. The two shared what they both found to be a much-needed embrace. Comfortable within each other's company, they let the world around them slowly tick by to the dance of the lantern flame.

"Oh, hey! I didn't know there were free hugs going on in here!"

Barret quickly released Tifa while the woman in turn fought to roll her eyes. Rising from her own embrace, she looked over her old friend's head to watch the wildly grinning ninja who'd just bounced through the kitchen archway.

"Come on!" Yuffie swept an index finger under her nose before throwing out her arms. "Don't let me miss all the action! Gimme some sugar!"

Barret almost snorted, rising from his chair with a raised brow. "That ain't what that means. Anyway, you ain't gettin' no 'sugar' after that stunt you pulled crossing tha mountain."

"You bringing that up AGAIN?! Sometimes I think the kids are the only ones on my side!" Yuffie was quick to launch into a vocal list of, 'Why the past is irrelevant á la Yuffie Kisaragi', when Tifa blinked at the ninja's remark and swiftly began to peer around the dimly lit room. Barret chose to ignore them both and instead began rifling through cupboards to pull out what appeared to be various ceramic coffee mugs. Failing to find what she was looking for in the kitchen, Tifa glanced at her two occupied comrades before she quietly stepped under the archway and into the dilapidated living room.

The hum of the electric generator greeted her as did the sight of a now spotless floor. Both Nanaki and Cait Sith sat with their backs toward her studying one of Barret's old bookcases; hugging the wall to the left of the sofa, its shelves were filled to the brim not with books, but rather, a miscellanea of old cassette tapes adorned with various stickers and labels. The fighter went unnoticed by the pair as they spoke quietly amongst themselves, but she wasn't, however, unnoticed by a pair of half-lidded blood-red eyes.

Tifa paused, her gaze held captive by Vincent's own. The gunslinger observed her with an expression of languid indifference never before seen from him by the fighter as he leaned against the far wall near the door. Questions rose in her throat but were just as swiftly quashed when a hint of gold glimmered from the shadows of his eyes. Tifa blinked. Just as quickly as it was there, it was gone.

She glanced towards the ceiling light with a puzzled groove of her brow and a few rapid flutters of her lashes. Vincent responded with an almost imperceptible tilt of his head. Shaking the image from her mind, she shook her own crown of chocolate locks and subsequently waved him away. The gunslinger watched her carefully before his gaze slowly shifted over her shoulder. Following his focus, Tifa peered behind her to find a lone corridor stretching out into the darkness. Within the black, however, a sliver of light ran in a horizontal line across the floor, indicating a lit room with a closed door. Returning her eyes to the man before her, Vincent only gave a slight nudge of his head before he tucked his chin further into his cowl and resituated himself more comfortably against the cracked concrete wall.

No words were needed; Vincent knew what she sought – or rather, who.

Tifa gave a nod in gratitude before she turned around and stepped into the darkened corridor. Her mind was abuzz with thoughts of the crimson-caped man she'd left at her back. His behaviour had been growing increasingly strange to say the least and, while the fighter understood and appreciated the importance of privacy, Vincent's actions had been growing nothing short of alarming. She was certain the others had noticed too, but talking about Vincent Valentine was an unspoken taboo amongst their party. One that had been set in stone three years ago after they'd first awakened him. Or rather, after something else had first awakened...

Tifa suppressed a shiver at the memory and instead focused on another to help quell the rush of goosebumps that raced down her arms.

'That yellow shimmer... I'm sure I've seen it before...' Tifa paused to pinch the bridge of her nose as her eyes fluttered closed. Her mind was sluggish in its attempt to recollect. Weariness crept up to greet her like an old friend and it was only then she was aware of just how exhausted she was. Her knuckles still stung with the persistent throb of their previous knocks with rocks and she made a mental note to check for any damage later, yet the idea only made her brow furrow as Vincent's oddly slumped shoulder was once more brought to mind.

'You're hiding something, Vincent. You always have. But why is it bothering me so much now...?' Through the haze and fog of her fatigued mind, a niggling voice asked why she should concern herself so over a man who clearly wanted very little to do with the people around him. Who constantly pushed others away to what was, in the end, to nothing but his own detriment.

'And yet...'

Her fingers absentmindedly teased the silken petals of the daffodil resting in her duster pouch. Fighting off a sigh, the fighter continued towards the door encasing light with the decision to think upon such things later. A decision mainly dictated by the tired burn of her eyes and the sting of her knuckles. A sudden gurgle of water bubbled from beneath the woodwork with the unmistakable sound of a toilet being flushed, and Tifa chose to mimic Vincent's earlier pose with a hint of conscious amusement on her part. Leaning against the nearby wall, the fighter crossed her arms and watched the judder of the door handle. A few jostles later, the door swung open in a wash of light to reveal a much relieved looking Denzel stepping out of the bathroom.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

The boy visibly jumped with a few rapid blinks of his eyes before he squinted at the fighter in confusion. When Tifa merely gave am arched brow and a knowing smile in return, the orphan immediately understood with a start.

"O-oh, right." Retracing his steps with a shuffle of unlaced sneakers, Denzel returned to the bathroom to reach for the sink taps and douse his hands. Tifa's smile broadened for a moment before it slowly waned when a memory, uninhibited, took hold of her mind's eye. The scene of Cloud playfully chastising Denzel for not washing his hands played out behind her eyes and she watched, helpless, until the memory abated on its own accord. Released of its hold, Tifa came to her senses with the sudden realisation she'd not only been subconsciously picking at the daffodil seated in her duster, but that Denzel was watching her with a deep and unsettled frown.

Azure eyes widened when they homed in on the sunny flower between her fingertips and the orphan quickly searched his person with a frantic pat of small hands on hoodie and button up shirt. Coming up short, he looked up to the woman with a baffled stare.

"How- I mean... Where'd you... get that?"

Tifa quelled her wistful heart with a swallow and a practised smile. "Vincent found it." The words barely left her mouth when a scowl crossed Denzel's face with a vengeance. The fighter paused with a jump of her eyebrows. Studying the boy carefully, she continued with similar tact. "He told me to give this back to you, but-"

"I don't want it."

Tifa paused, unable to finish Vincent's wishes for her to retain the daffodil by the well of confusion which stirred in her breast. Denzel stared hard at some unseen space with an unfocused yet steely gaze. Concern bubbled up from within the fighter and she sought out Denzel's eyes but the boy was adamant in avoiding her gaze. Lowering herself to one knee in a rumple of leather, Tifa eventually spoke in a tone as soft as Chocobo feathers. "Denzel... didn't Marlene give this to you? Won't she be upset if you don't take it back?"

"You're not my mother," Denzel snapped.

Tifa was stunned to silence.

A beat passed. Regret flickered over the orphan's features before it was gone just as swiftly as the boy. Denzel pushed past her with clenched fists and marched down the corridor towards the rumble of Barret's trademark timbre, leaving Tifa kneeling all alone in the dark.

Seconds trickled by before the fighter found the strength to push past her aching heart and will herself to stand. Dimly noting the crack of light that crept out from beneath the bathroom doorway, Tifa moved towards it with sluggish languor. Pushing the door open, she stood for a moment in the florescent glow as one solitary thought ran through her mind as steadfast as the electric current Denzel had neglected to turn off.

'Cloud would know what to do...'

Tifa flicked the switch and let darkness consume her.