Chapter One - The Fall
"Tifa!"
It was Cloud. She heard his voice from somewhere below, under the recoiling bullets that fell from Scarlet's mech and the whirlwind of the Relnikas that circled overhead. His voice carried over all of the noise, and it sounded pained as if shot through with an arrow. She could feel it down to the marrow in her bones that he was in danger, and right now, the only thing she could think of was that she had to get to him.
Tifa's sense of dread only grew as she drew nearer to the reactor's core as if she could feel his threads come further undone with every step closer that she took. She bit into her lip, leaping and running over catwalks and shallow pools of reactor run-off, the soles of her boots thumping against the metal grates as she went.
Gunshots rang out overhead, and Tifa watched sparks fly around her head as they ricocheted off of the catwalk and into the coolant tubes that hung from the adjacent rafters. Gasping, she ducked and rolled out of the way when one dislodged from above and crashed in her direction. She fired her grappling gun onto the nearest overhead platform, dodging the hail of bullets that whizzed past her. Relnikas were still circling overhead, and Tifa could see Scarlet and her mech redirecting their efforts in her direction, its arm cannons facing her and prepared to blast. Tifa leaped deftly out of the way, narrowly missing more rapid-fire before she heard the Shinra Weapon Director call for retreat. Crouching to her knees, Tifa braced herself as the entire reactor shook from the force of the fighting going on below and the whirlwind of the Relnikas that tore through the thick jungle air. Wide red eyes scanned the reactor core, and she spotted him as he raised his arms overhead, the sharp silver of his blade glimmering in the sunlight as he brought it down into the spine of an already wounded Shinra grunt who was sprawled out on the floor.
It was the blood that spurt out in every direction and marred his beautiful face that lurched Tifa's gut. There was a glaze across his eyes that froze the pit of her stomach into ice, and swallowing back the burn of bile that rushed up into her throat, Tifa pushed up onto her feet, balling her hands into fists as she stared down at him and blinked through sudden and hot tears.
"Cloud, that's enough!"
It didn't seem that her voice reached him, which worried her even more. He was unsteady on his feet, wobbling where he stood as he snatched his sword out of the grunt's flesh with one clean pull. The blood leaked in every direction, running in a lazy river down the metal grates of the floor.
Tifa gasped and jumped down onto the reactor core's floor below, running straight for him. Her heart was pounding and sweat was dripping down the sides of her temples, some of it pooling into her eyes. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, swiping her bangs out of the way as she rounded up to Cloud's side just as he dropped his sword and fell to his knees, clasping his head.
He was having another episode. These strange headaches started back in Midgar, but since they've left the metropolis on this journey, Tifa noticed that they've increased, that they've become a constant. She still didn't know what caused them or how they started, but she knew that they were debilitating, that they were linked to Cloud's mismatched memories, and that they caused him pain.
Something had been wrong since she found him at the train station, Tifa knew. When she found him, he had the same vacant and lost look in his eyes that he does now, the same distance that made him seem like he was a shell of the boy she once knew staring back at her, the life inside of him somewhere far away. And even when he looked up at her at that moment and the awareness flooded back into him, as he blinked up at her under the rain and softly called her name, Tifa had realized that something was terribly wrong with her childhood friend.
Now, as he stared back at her with blood spattered across his face, she could see something else behind that vacant look. Something sinister and cruel.
Something foreign.
"You have no scar," he deadpanned accusingly.
Tifa blinked, her eyes scanning his face again for something - anything- recognizable. But the fury and the accusation only grew in his aquamarine eyes, the mako that rimmed his pupils glowing with the feral fear of a caged animal.
She didn't understand why he was bringing this up again. She glanced around, looking at the scattered bodies of the Shinra troops he had slaughtered. Fear of her own began to curl inside of her belly, the realization of the destruction that Cloud had wrought ripping her heart to shreds as she glanced at the pools of blood forming all over the reactor floor. He was spiraling, further and further out of control, further and further away from her.
Guilt was the next cold hand to grip her heart. Guilt that maybe she was the reason for all of this death, that she was the one who had caused him to lose his touchstone of reality.
He had been coming for her, hadn't he?
Even so, now, he looked at her with something she'd never seen before. A muted hatred almost, as if he didn't believe that she was who she said she was, even as she stood there in front of him in the flesh.
Where had this all been coming from? She knew that something was wrong with Cloud from the very beginning, that his memories were off, and that things were not as they seemed. She could only doubt her own memories so far. There was something deeper in the incongruence, and the story he'd told in Kalm had only been the start of her realization that he was terribly, terribly broken.
But wasn't that why she was here? She always did her best to try and support him, to hold on to his broken pieces, and to keep them glued together so they could make it through the next step on their journey together. But now, staring at the violence and enmity in his eyes, Tifa felt her resolve waiver.
She loved him. She had loved him for so long, it was scary to admit. Especially now, when she no longer recognized who he was, when he was no longer the shy, sweet boy from her memories but rather a stoic and hardened ex-SOLDIER who seemed to be slipping further and further away from her with each passing day.
But it was because she loved him that she could never give up on him, no matter how difficult things got or how far he drifted.
"We've been over this," she tried to redirect him as calmly as she could. "I do have a scar. Remember?"
"Liar," he bit back harshly, tearing his eyes from her and staring to his left as if listening to another voice on his other side.
He never used that tone with her. Tifa felt as if she had been slapped, wincing as Cloud grabbed his head again in pain. Panicking, she rose to her feet, bringing her hands to the hem of her tank top and lifting it slightly to reveal the tail end of her scar where it curved under her ribcage.
Bile was in the center of her throat again as she stepped back, watching Cloud's eyes carefully. Something flashed in them, something unrecognizable to Tifa. Sea-green eyes darted over the thin, pale line of marred flesh, but there was a lack of understanding or realization in his stare. There was none of the shock or embarrassment or guilt she had seen in his eyes the first time she'd shown him under Kalm's starry night sky. There was only vacant emptiness, an emptiness that transformed into disdain when he dragged his eyes back up to her face.
"Those we love… those we fear… Jenova will become anyone to fool her prey..."
Cloud reached for his sword, dragging it by the hilt, the blade scraping nauseatingly against the ground. Tifa's heart continued to race as she followed his every movement, watching as he unsteadily rose again to his full height. The glow of mako behind his irises intensified, and he stepped closer to her, a low growl emitted from deep within his throat.
Tifa watched in disbelief as he advanced on her threateningly, raising his weapon with every step. Was he going to attack her? Did he really not believe she was who she said she was…but that she was an imposter… Jenova?
She looked around as panic gripped her, but the sudden escalation of fear was nothing like the immense sadness and despair that folded itself around her heart.
She had never been afraid of Cloud before. She had never feared him. She'd known since the moment she found him at the train station that he was messed up, that he wasn't himself, that he wasn't the boy she'd held onto in her heart and who'd made that promise to her. But he'd never given her a reason to be afraid.
"Please," she pleaded with him, backing away towards the edge of the reactor core's platform. There was no place else for her to go. "Don't do this!"
The high-pitched tenor of her voice frightened her, breaking in half over her words as she spoke. She felt her heels tip over the edge, glancing behind her to be sure she didn't lose her footing. Cloud's eyes remained glazed over as he stared at her, creeping ever closer, raising his blade higher and higher.
"But I'm no fool ."
Everything happened so fast. Cloud ran towards her, the buster sword held in front of him, the blade glimmering as he slashed it in her direction. Tifa could only gasp as she narrowly backed away, avoiding the slice of its sharp edge but losing her footing and falling backward towards the mako pool below.
The last thing that she saw was the caged anger in Cloud's narrowed, mako-blue eyes, staring at her with that same foreign distrust that she'd seen briefly flash in his eyes in Kalm. Only this time, it was intensified by something violent and hateful, something she thought she would never understand.
She was weightless, floating in the air while she heard terrified shouts from the lower coolant platforms. And then she was sinking, engulfed by a shock of cold liquid. Her lungs were choked by the dense mako, and she struggled to break through to the surface, clawing her way up through the submergence.
It was so cold that she almost couldn't feel her limbs. Nonetheless, she fought with every ounce of strength that she had, propelling herself upward until she broke through the surface with a gasp. The stench of mako and cooling reagents was thick and overpowering, and she coughed, feeling herself grow dizzy even though the sudden rush of oxygen into her lungs was welcome and stabilizing.
"Swim to us, Tifa! Don't stop!"
Barret's harried voice broke her out of her stupor, and she looked around, focusing her line of sight even as the mako burned her eyes and blurred her vision. She tried to look up at the platform from where she'd fallen for Cloud, but the sunlight made it too painful and the need to get out of this mako was a priority. Gasping, Tifa pushed forward, setting her sights on the lower-level core platform where Barret stood with Yuffie, both waving their hands in an attempt to get her attention.
Tifa pushed Cloud out of her mind. She could think of nothing but survival now. Her mind was torn asunder by what had just happened, but she couldn't think about it. She couldn't think about him.
She needed to live.
Swimming towards the platform, she kept her thoughts focused until she was only a few feet away from the ledge. She found herself forced to stop, treading water precariously as the entire reactor began to shake, the jungle overgrowth that had weaved its way around metal pipes and walkways sending leaves and dirt flying through the air.
Without warning, the surface of the mako in front of her broke with a terrifying splash. A WEAPON emerged, lurching its entire body out of the mako pool with a deadly roar. Tifa's eyes widened, fear running cold as ice through her veins as the WEAPON bared rows of sharp teeth as long as cars at her before hovering over her, its open mouth a black void of death.
And then, it descended.
Warmth.
It was so cold before, but now, it was warm. Warm and comforting, like their family living room on Yule morning, or her mother's lap when she was tired or sick, or her father's arms wrapped tight around her when he carried her up to bed. It felt safe, and it was beautiful, but it was strange.
Memories were there. Ones she remembered and others that she didn't, ones that she'd lost the pieces to. Running off with her friends to find her mom on the other side of the mountain. Cloud following behind her. Cloud staying at her side when none of the others would. Cloud trying to get her to turn back.
Cloud, making a promise to her.
Cloud.
Voices that carried her thoughts and feelings as far back as her birth seemed to float in the green ethers that surrounded her. Friendships and loved ones she cherished now, those she had lost. They all sang in her memories, they all seemed to guide her to remember a strength she'd forgotten.
But Cloud was the only one who anchored her to this place, who floated ahead of her, her distant star. Unattainable, but somehow hers.
Cloud… please… I need you.
Always just out of reach.
Your words can't reach him now.
A vicious battle. A fight between worlds, between the planet and its destroyer. Her memories caught in the balance.
Sephiroth.
No… don't take him too!
"Tifa..?"
His vision blacked out and then back in, static haze filtering over the facade in front of him. It was as if he had left his body and then returned to it somehow, and now, he was trying to remember where he was and how he had gotten here. But all he could remember was her - Tifa - and that she had been in danger.
He looked around for her, the hilt of his sword beginning to slip past his fingers as slow realization hit him. Bodies of Shinra troops littered the ground, surrounded by pools of blood. His last full memory was of slashing his way through them, fighting to get to Tifa.
He turned towards the edge of the reactor core, overlooking the mako pool. Another flash of static and the rest of his recent memory returned to him, an image of Tifa hovering above him bleeding through the haze of colors.
"Please, don't do this!"
"Alright, look!"
He watched her stumble backward. He watched his blade swing in front of her, narrowly missing her midsection. He watched her arms stretch toward him as if he could reach out and catch her.
He watched her fall.
He pushed her.
Cloud dropped his sword with a clatter, falling to his knees as the realization hit him.
He pushed her.
And now, a WEAPON had swallowed her. Tifa was gone. His Tifa, the only person he had left in his life who tethered him to reality, the one who kept him going every day, who cared for him and grounded him in a way that he knew he might be lost without.
Tifa. The girl who made him feel more complicated and deep feelings every time she stood at his side or looked at him or gave him one of her cute, adoring smiles. The girl who made him feel like himself. The girl who he loved in ways he'd avoided examining too closely since reuniting with her in Midgar.
He pushed her.
He fell to his knees and cried her name so loudly that the earth shook, but Cloud couldn't hear the sound of his own voice.
How could he even go on?
His vision began to blur as he stared up at the now barren skyline. The tears came freely, but they preceded something far worse. He was already collapsing in on himself. Because without Tifa, who was he? What did anything matter? What did he matter?
Her last words to him played on a never-ending loop in his head. They tore through his skull until he could see nothing but blank space in front of him. He could feel himself shutting down, every synapse dying as his world began to fade. Somehow, he made it to the lower level, staring vacantly at the mako pool while the others hovered over the catwalk and stared into the deep green oasis of viscous liquid, searching for a sign of Tifa.
But Cloud knew the truth.
She was gone.
He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there. It might have been hours. It could have been days. It could have been only a few minutes. Time had no meaning to him. Nothing did anymore.
Not without Tifa.
It was only when the flat of Barret's palm slammed violently into his cheek did Cloud even feel himself inside of his body again. But the mention of Tifa's name snapped him out of it fully.
"Get your shit together! Tifa needs you!"
Looking up and barely feeling the sting of Barret's 350 pounds of muscular force against his jaw, Cloud blinked, seeing the WEAPON with its fish-like gaze hovering over the platform from the water below. Its jaw was hanging open, baring carnivorous fangs, the bright green orb at its belly glowing.
Tifa was inside.
Something cracked within him. He dragged himself to his feet, still dazed by the mako and still not totally all together. But the outline of Tifa's body inside of the WEAPON's sphere dissipated his daze, and he ambled forward, trying his best to gather his bearings.
The WEAPON cried out then, waves of white Whispers circling as Tifa floated out of its mouth on wave after wave of sparkling Lifestream tendrils. Their entire party circled around to watch, Cloud watching almost dumbstruck as Tifa's body was slowly lowered to the ground. Barret caught her as she descended, gently laying her on the tarp below.
The sight of Tifa fully emerged was enough to return all of his remaining faculties. Cloud pushed past Barret, running up to Tifa's left side falling to one knee to crouch above her. Panic gripped him as he watched her cough up the last bit of mako from her lungs, the thick, pungent liquid clinging to her skin and hair.
"Tifa!" he called to her softly. He was at a loss of how else to help her. His entire body was trembling with the desperate need to do something - and yet all he could do was sit there and stare at her, waiting achingly for her to open her eyes.
Mercifully, she slowly began to do just that - sputtering a bit more before she blinked up at him, her dark, ruby-red eyes glazed over, her pupils dilated. She stared at him, her gaze distant. Her lips parted as if to say something, but the WEAPON screamed behind him, tearing away her attention.
"Good luck down there," he heard her whisper.
And then she was gone again, her eyes closed and her breathing mellowing. Panic seized Cloud once more. What if she had mako poisoning? What if the WEAPON had injured her internally?
What if she died?
Cloud touched her arm again, the sense of desperation and fear rising in him once more. He could not lose Tifa. He could not let anything happen to her.
He wasn't sure if he could ever forgive himself for putting her in this position as it were. Suddenly, the memory of the way he'd nearly killed her assailed his senses, and Cloud wobbled, falling forward and clutching his head in one hand while the other continued to squeeze Tifa's arm. The mako cooled her skin to the point that it almost felt unnatural, and Cloud badly wanted to lift her into his arms and hold her tight, to give her all of his strength and his warmth.
But he didn't. He didn't deserve to.
Barret came around then, leveling his eyes at Cloud before glancing at Tifa.
"I sent Red and the girls to bring the chocobos around," he said gruffly. It was then that he realized the others had all left except Cait Sith, who was covering the exit while they waited. You think you can make it back without collapsing again?"
Cloud looked up at him. There was no real suspicion behind his words, rather just deep concern. He wondered then if Barret and the others had seen him push Tifa from the platform above. Glancing behind him, he realized that from their vantage point, they would have only seen her after she'd fallen in.
He swallowed thickly. "I got it," he answered, not wanting to say anything further. "I'll carry her outside."
Barret put his good hand on his hip. "You sure about that?"
Cloud decided to ignore him, focusing all of his energy on bending down to gently scoop Tifa up into his arms. He was still feeling dizzy and lightheaded from all of the mako fumes, and the oppressive jungle heat wasn't making it any easier to keep his head or his balance steady. Despite that, though, he had to hold it together for her.
If he couldn't help Tifa now - especially after what he had just done - then he would know for sure that he didn't deserve her.
He lifted her into his arms, cradling her close against his chest. She felt heavier than he remembered her to be, and he realized it was because of the weight of the mako in her clothes and skin. She moaned slightly, leaning into him and curling her head against his chest. The unconscious gesture of trust and affection squeezed his heart, and he hoisted her up closer to his chest and held her tighter.
"I got it," he reaffirmed gruffly to Barret.
It was well after dark when they finally returned to Gongaga Village. The chocobos that the girls had brought with them made the trek back across the jungle faster, but as night approached, fiend sightings increased and they'd had to stop several times to dispatch them in battle. It made Cloud all the more weary as they traversed the humidity of the jungle, but once they put space between them and the reactor, he felt his head begin to clear.
The guilt of what he'd done to Tifa in the reactor began to dogpile on his conscience and his heart. The hold he maintained on his sanity seemed ever more precarious, and he wasn't sure of how he'd keep his grasp on it any longer. Not if he could so easily be turned against the one person who meant the most to him, the one whose very presence was the only thing keeping him glued together at this point. Every time he replayed the events in his head, the first image he saw was that of Sephiroth - the sinister look in his eyes and the baleful words that he spoke before everything dissipated into mist.
How could he trust himself with her? How could he trust himself with anyone?
Maybe he should just leave, abandon the party and pursue his vendetta with Sephiroth alone. He knew that he was degrading. It had been stuck in Cloud's mind ever since President Shinra had mentioned it back in Midgar. But over the last few weeks, and especially the last few days… Cloud knew that it was only a matter of time before he fell apart completely.
He was no good to anybody… especially not to her.
But it was as he had that thought that Tifa stirred against him. He'd seated her side-saddle in front of him, folding her gently inside of the shell of his body as he rode the chocobo back across the jungle, keeping her body close to his where he knew she would be safe as they crossed the uneven terrain. He may not trust himself, but he didn't trust anyone else either when it came to her. Especially since it was his fuck up that had got her into this situation in the first place.
The streets had been vacated as most of the villagers had retreated to their homes for supper and to take it down for the evening's rest. Their party rode their chocobos as quietly as possible into town, depositing them at the nearby stable. Cissnei met them halfway in the village square, carrying a torch to guide them through the now dark and deserted dirt streets.
Cloud carried Tifa as they followed Cissnei to her home, keeping his eyes averted from the rest of their team. The mood of the group had sobered significantly, even as Cait Sith tried to provide directionless conversation as they made their way. Aerith peeked over at them, and every time he met the Cetra's eyes, she smiled mischievously and then turned away. Barret, on the other hand, watched him with the intensity of a hawk, or perhaps a worried father, waiting for him to make a wrong or dangerous move. Cloud admitted that it made him unreasonably angry, but he bit his tongue and did his best to ignore the older man.
Even Yuffie had quieted down by the time they made it to Cissnei's house, though she was the first to loudly claim the couch as her own for the night.
The others hung back as Cissnei directed Cloud into the bedroom that she reserved for guests. Her home was frequently used as a place for the weary militiaman in the village or the occasional traveler, and so she was no stranger to their need for convalescence.
When Barret and Aerith followed behind him, peering over his shoulder at the bedroom door, he turned to them both and shook his head.
"She needs to rest," was all he said.
Aerith clasped her hands in front of her, nodding and stepping back. Barret lingered for a moment longer, staring severely at Cloud before scratching the back of his head and then throwing his hand up.
"Alright," he conceded. But you better take care of her. And if she doesn't wake up by morning, we're blowing this backwater to find a place with real doctors."
Cissnei made a clicking sound over her tongue, tossing an annoyed look over her shoulder. She was fixing the lone bed in the room, turning down the covers.
"A little rest and she should be fine," she said. "If she was mako-poisoned, you'd know by now. But even so, we have a great doctor in the village, so no need to worry."
Cloud straightened his spine, walking into the bedroom and still holding Tifa close to his chest. He turned back to Barret.
" I got it, " he affirmed for the third time.
Barret leveled another dark stare at him, but eventually relented, turning away and retreating into the living room. Cloud turned to Cissnei, nodding at her in silent thanks before moving to place Tifa on the bed.
"Wait," Cissnei stopped him, holding up a hand. She shook her head, waves of bright red hair tumbling across her shoulders. "She's still quite damp, and covered in mako. She needs to be cleaned up a bit before you lay her down."
Cloud blinked, looking at the bed before looking down at Tifa. Her clothes had begun to dry, but her skin was slightly damp, the mako leaving a strange sheen across her skin. He looked back at Cissnei, seeing her sympathetic but expectant look, her hands balanced on her hips.
"I, uh -"
"Hold on," she said with a light sigh. Cissnei was incredibly patient, but she was also curt and to the point. It was evident that she had many responsibilities as a leader in this village and that she was used to helping others, but not without making sure they could help themselves. She disappeared into a small washroom in the back of the bedroom, returning with a stack of towels. She laid one across the bed, then set the others off to the side. "You should clean her up before letting her rest for the night. Or I could go get one of the girls to help if you prefer."
She waited for him to answer. Cloud immediately felt a new sense of panic induced by the position he was put in. Clean up Tifa himself, or hand the responsibility off to Aerith or Yuffie. Neither option was really palatable at the moment. He was already working his nerves into a frenzy just carrying Tifa like this, but the thought of trusting himself to touch her and clean her up after what had happened earlier scared the hell out of him. At the same time, though, he had no intention of getting Aerith or anyone else involved.
Tifa was his and it was his duty to take care of her, even if he didn't deserve the honor anymore. She was always there for him, even when he was on the brink of destruction. He wasn't about to give up that one piece of himself that he had left to anyone else.
Tifa held him together. But it wasn't just because she was kind and caring or because they had a long history together. It was because she believed in him and it was because he promised her once, seven years ago, that he'd make that belief worthwhile.
If there was nothing else for him to hold on to, he still had to hold on to that.
"Thanks. I'll take care of it."
Cissnei nodded dutifully and left the room without another word, closing the door behind her with a telltale click. Cloud breathed out a sigh of relief, grateful for her lack of interrogation or intrusion. She went on about her business without asking too many questions or offering too many unwanted opinions. Something he somehow doubted the rest of his party would be able to do.
Tifa groaned slightly in his arms, shifting her weight against him. Cloud refocused on the task at hand, carrying her quietly over to the bed and gently laying her across the towel Cissnei had laid out. Once she was unburdened from his arms, she sighed softly, her head lolling to one side, eyes still closed. Her breathing was gentle, no longer strained the way that it had been when she was sprawled out across the reactor floor. It calmed him greatly knowing that she was no longer in pain or distressed.
But he still had to confront the matter at hand - cleaning her up sufficiently so that she could sleep in peace. Part of him didn't trust himself to touch her so intimately. Worse, a greater part of him thought he had lost the right. After they'd reunited, Cloud had slowly found he and Tifa closing a gulf between them that he hadn't even realized had opened up after they separated all those years ago. They didn't remember or know each other as well as he thought, but it didn't matter. Every day was a happy exercise in growing together and getting to know one another better. Their days spent fighting together and working odd jobs in Sector Seven were some of the best he'd had since defecting from Shinra, maybe even longer than that. And even though things had become tense and strained with Tifa since they'd left Midgar, those moments never lasted long. They always found a way to come back to each other, to share a moment that reaffirmed how much they meant to each other, even if neither of them had found a way to say it.
But after this? Now, Cloud wasn't so sure. Maybe he was wrong about everything he felt and everything he'd thought Tifa had felt. Maybe he was wrong about the moments they'd shared and their reunion and their relationship and their entire history together. Maybe was wrong about being able to keep his promise.
Maybe he was just wrong.
He was torn amid a war inside his mind and his heart over whether to prove himself worthy of Tifa or whether to abandon this entire endeavor. Maybe he should just go and get Aerith or Yuffie. Maybe he should tell Barret that he was leaving to find Sephiroth on his own.
Tifa moaned softly then, turning to face him. Her eyes were still closed, but her brow furrowed as if in pain, or maybe deep thought. Cloud froze, watching as her lips parted.
"Cloud… please…. I need you."
The words were so softly whispered that if it weren't for his enhanced hearing, he might not have heard them, even though she was only lying a foot away from where he stood. But he heard her soft coos, felt them float inside of him and wrap their way around his heart, squeezing until he felt he couldn't breathe.
"I'm right here," he found himself replying, the softness in his voice that he only ever found himself using with her returning. He knelt by the side of the bed, scanning Tifa from head to toe. She didn't open her eyes, but her sounds subsided, signally she drifted back into the throes of sleep. Methodically, he untied the laces of her boots, slipping them off of her feet and sitting them on the floor by the bed. While most of her clothing had begun to dry, her stockings were still damp and the last thing Cloud wanted was for her to catch cold because of the clingy wet material.
He blushed, his eyes searching the lengths of her shapely legs from narrow ankles and well-defined calves up to her thick and powerful thighs. A new feeling of guilt overcame him as he felt the heat and shame of his impulsive thoughts corral themselves in his skull. Tifa was his friend. His childhood friend. They may be close, but he had no right to think of her so impurely.
It couldn't be helped, he knew. Even so, his duty to care for her outweighed his personal desires and so he filed them away, concentrating on the movements of his hands as he carefully rolled each stocking down, and then laid them out to dry. He held his breath the entire time, trying to ignore the way the tips of his leatherbound fingers brushed against her pliant and delicate skin.
Next was her armor. Removing each piece of leather and iron was far less overwhelming than her stockings, but the intimacy of the act was still not lost on him. His cheeks warmed as he undid each clasp and buckle and slid away each piece, gently rubbing the grooves and marks out of her skin that wearing her armor for hours and hours on end had left behind. Her skin had reddened and chafed in some places, and it took everything in his power to resist kissing those bruised and damaged spots.
Gently laying her arms back down at her sides, Cloud picked up one of the downy folded towels Cissnei had left and carefully unfolded it. She had dampened it with warm water, while the others in the stack were dry.
Tifa's eyes remained closed as Cloud carefully began to first wipe down her clothes and then her skin, soaking up some of the excess mako with the hand towel. His hand shook as he worked, but he swallowed back the fear and the inadequacy that tormented him and tried to concentrate on cleaning Tifa up. She continued to doze, but groaned quietly in her sleep, occasionally lolling her head from one side to the other as he went.
Cloud held his breath as his eyes carefully studied her face and her body. Even in this state, Tifa was pure perfection. In the years since they'd separated and twice reunited, she'd gone from the cute girl next door to a blossoming teenager to the kind of shapely and feminine woman that made a man want to settle down with property and plans for the future. He'd never seen a woman who was as beautiful or divinely constructed as she was. It was made even more enchanting to him by the fact that Tifa had put herself together this way all with hard work and sacrifice. Every sinew and muscle was carefully crafted and trained, built under supple, pale skin that was so soft it had Cloud cursing his gloves.
Moving on to her hair, he didn't dare take them off, though. As much as he wanted to, he still didn't feel that he had the right to touch her. At least, not like that.
Gathering her thick tresses of hair in one hand, he ran the wet towel over her locks and squeezed out all of the mako he could, rinsing it out into the wash basin Cissnei had left. Knowing Tifa, she would be dying for a shower when she woke up.
His gentle washdown would have to do for now, he surmised. He cleaned her up as best he could, trying to keep his thoughts from drifting towards the constant edge of disquiet. He smoothed out her long tresses of hair, untangling them carefully with his fingers and admiring the delicate strands of slick that he'd been enamored with since he was a child, dark slats of onyx in his hand. How badly he wanted to lay with her head in his lap and run his fingers unbidden through that hair, touch it whenever and however he pleased.
Along with the rest of her.
He sighed that thought away and picked up one of the dry towels, gently dabbing at Tifa's skin and hair to dry her off. Once he had finished, he tossed all of the towels aside, reaching for the blankets at the foot of the bed to tuck her in, draping the covers across her body up to her shoulders.
"Cloud…?"
Her voice was a gentle and hushed whisper again, but looking up, Cloud realized that this time, Tifa's eyes had fluttered open. She was still lying back on the bed, those soulful crimson orbs peeking through wet lashes and searching his face.
His heart began to race as he looked down at her. He hadn't expected her to wake so soon and he hadn't expected to have to face her after what had happened so soon, either. He needed to buy himself time to gather his thoughts and explain his horrific actions. He glanced back at the door in mild panic.
"I - I'll get the others -"
"Cloud, do you remember what our parents told us? That when a person died, their spirit would cross Mount Nibel?"
Cloud blinked at her words, a lump forming in his throat. A memory pricked at the back of his mind, distant and hazy, a bridge swaying in the wind and a little girl with dark hair with her hand outstretched to him.
He turned and ran back to her side, crouching by the side of the bed.
"Yeah," he breathed in response. "We all knew it was a story to scare us out of climbing the mountain. You… believed it though."
He wasn't sure why his heart was racing or why he felt so suddenly suffocated by this shift in topic. Tifa shook her head, laboriously pushing herself up. She looked down at her body - her missing armor, her lack of stockings and shoes - and he saw her cheeks stain with warmth. But she blinked through the glaze that coated her eyes, turning back to him.
"I didn't… But I wanted so badly for it to be true. I didn't want to think my mom was just… gone. And Emilio and the others…"
Cloud sat back on his knees, resting his hands on his thighs. He looked down at them as Tifa continued, recounting that day from their childhood. Like so many of his memories, it was all a blur to him. Following behind Tifa from afar, hearing the voices of the other boys as they laughed and called her name.
Hanging on the edges of her life like he always did, too afraid and ashamed to get closer.
"I only knew what the others told me… didn't even occur to me to question them."
Cloud snapped his head back up at her then. The lump in his throat tightened, a harsh sense of dread speeding the pace of his heart even further. "What'd they tell you?"
Tifa looked away from him, down at her hands. "They said… that you egged me on."
Cloud felt his heart drop all the way to his stomach. He sat back, shaking his head and scoffing lightly, the dread twisting into anguish.
Of course.
Tifa leaned in close to him then, blinking those bright scarlet eyes, the moonlight from the window overhead dancing across their glass surfaces. "But now I know, that's not what happened at all. When the rest of them ran, you were there for me."
She smiled, resting her hand above her heart, sending beams of warmth into his chest where the trepidation and unease had crawled. "You stayed when I needed you most. If that's not a hero… then I don't know what is."
Cloud looked up into her eyes. The word she used - hero - struck him like a lightning bolt. His mind immediately drifted to the moment on the reactor catwalk just hours ago, to Tifa lifting the hem of her shirt, backing away from him, shaking her head and pleading with him until his blade sent her over the edge and into the mako below.
A knife tore through his gut, and Cloud started to push up to his feet, shaking his head.
"I'm no hero," he choked. "What kind of hero falls from a mountain with the person he's trying to save? And pushes them into a pool of mako?"
His throat tightened, tears threatening the corners of his eyes. He turned away from her, staring down at his hands. The leather and steel in front of him began to blur.
"Sometimes… I don't even know who I am. I forget things everyone else remembers just fine… and know things I've got no right knowing. It's like… I've got different people inside of me. And the worst part is, I can't even tell where they end and… I begin."
She leaned forward, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Go on."
Cloud looked at her. Her eyes were still glossy from her concussion, but she was staring at him with so much sincerity. So much care and encouragement and conviction. So much…
Love.
He had promised her he would spill his guts, didn't he? Maybe now was as good a time as any.
"SOLDIERs' cells degrade. I think that's what's happening to me. That I'm… falling apart."
"Cloud, come here."
Cloud turned back to her. He took another step closer, until he was almost standing between her knees by the side of the bed. Tifa looked up at him, taking his hand in both of hers, wrapping them tight around his. She squeezed, and he could feel all of her warmth transfer into him, sinking into his bones.
"That's not going to happen to you."
She pulled him down gently. Cloud followed her unspoken direction, sinking back down to his knees, kneeling in front of her between her legs, the heat of her thighs caging his torso. He was just slightly below eye level with her now, looking up into a somber but hopeful kaleidoscope of ruby red.
"You saved me before, now it's my turn."
Cloud tried to process her words. What did she mean by that? He searched her scarlet stare for a clue, but she pulled him in closer by his hand, his heart pounding its way up into his throat as he saw her eyelashes begin to flutter and her eyes slowly begin to close.
He barely had time to decipher what was happening before her lips were pressed to his.
Cloud froze, his hands beginning to tremble even as she held onto his tightly in her own. Her lips were so soft and warm, quivering against his like butterfly wings, the lightest touch. It was shy and tentative and unsure, sweet and pleasant, pure and innocent.
It set fire to his soul.
In his mind, Cloud wasn't sure how to react. He couldn't imagine why Tifa Lockhart would ever want to kiss him. Not after he failed her on the mountain and not after he failed her in Nibelheim. Not after he let her down in Kalm. Not after he almost killed her hours ago in that reactor.
How could she want to be close to him like this? How could she want him?
How could she love him?
But while his mind warred and tormented itself, his body acted on its own, guided by the emotions that swirled inside of his heart. Somewhere deep inside of him, a voice was crying at him to act. And for whatever reason, his body couldn't ignore that voice.
He released her hand and wrapped his arms around her back and shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace. The feeling of her small frame and soft breasts against his body brought back memories of the night they'd shared in Aerith's garden in Midgar, the night when he'd felt closer to her than he'd ever felt before in his life. He squeezed her tighter, gapping his lips to encourage their kiss to deepen. It was the first time he'd ever shared a moment with a woman like this and to be blessed to share it with Tifa was enough to mend the cracks that had been worn across his soul.
He wasn't sure how long they kissed. Neither of them pushed it past the connection of their lips and the barest brush of their tongues. Tifa moaned and looped her arms around him too, holding him tight. He held her closer and the tears that had welled in his eyes finally began to fall.
When she pulled away to breathe, it was hell to let her go.
She licked her lips, blushing brightly as she looked up at him with a smile. She reached up, brushing her thumb across his cheeks, flicking away the tears that ran under his eyes.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Cloud was flabbergasted. "I should be thanking you," he ventured, shaking his head in disbelief.
Tifa dipped her head in that adorably deferential way he'd seen her do time and time again, still holding a hint of her smile. She pulled her legs back away from him, climbing back onto the bed and crawling under the blankets again.
"My head is feeling really heavy again," she muttered. He could see the glassiness in her eyes and the hazy look infecting her features. " Your kisses must be dangerous. Gonna go back to sleep now."
Cloud chuckled softly, a smile of his own stretching his jaw almost painfully when Tifa giggled teasingly at him.
"Sorry 'bout that," he teased back.
She laid back, resting her head on her pillow and closing her eyes. "Night, Cloud."
"Goodnight, Tifa."
He tucked her in with the covers, then took a seat in the lone chair in the room, watching as she fell asleep again, her breathing even and calm. It was well after midnight and the quiet in the rest of the house told him that the others had settled and taken it down, too.
Glancing over at Tifa, he knew that she still hadn't completely recovered and that she needed to rest. He hoped she'd be okay by morning, knowing that their enemy was still out there and that their time for reprieve was short.
Touching his lips with his fingertips, remembering the gentleness of her kiss just moments ago and watching her sleep, Cloud knew was going nowhere until she was okay.
She would always be his priority.
Light poked at the corners of her eyes, pulling her back into awareness. She felt as if she had slept for years, and yet somehow, she also felt as if she could simply turn over and fall right back into a deep slumber once again.
A red band of pain attached itself to her forehead as she came to. Quietly, she blinked through it, staring up at the ceiling. It was brown clay, bright green lianas crawling across the walls where the vined plants seemed to be embedded into the infrastructure. The air was thick but slightly cool from the shaded windows, shielding from the tropical environment outside that the building was sturdily built against.
Her limbs felt heavy. She leaned upwards, fighting against the lingering fatigue as she struggled to fully awaken. Every time she blinked, her memory pulsed with images that were tinged in turquoise and green - a water tower and a mountain bridge, a little boy with bright blue eyes and wild blond hair.
"Who…?"
"Tifa?"
She looked up at the sound of the voice. A man sat across from her bed in a wooden chair, his hands crossed over his knees. Like the boy in her dreams, he was blond-haired and blue-eyed. But he was no boy. He was a man, handsome and muscular and serious, with perhaps the most intense look in his eyes she'd ever seen. He stared at her acutely, his eyes glowing in a way that was both familiar and foreign.
She blinked. There was a look of longing in his eyes that she couldn't place. He got to his feet and crossed the room to her, crouching by her bed.
"Tifa," he tried again. "You're awake. How are you feeling?"
She inhaled a breath. Tifa. Why did that name mean nothing to her? Who was this handsome stranger, staring at her with wildness and concern in his eyes, kneeling by her bedside with his gloved hand dangerously close to her thigh? Where was she, and why was she lying here like this? Why did everything hurt?
Who was she?
That last thought filled her with sudden and immeasurable confusion and fright. She struggled to sit up fully, pulling her knees in close to her body. She was scantily clad in a leather tennis skirt and cotton tank tops, and she suddenly felt very vulnerable and exposed, alone with this strange man in the room. The realization terrified her.
She looked at him, pulling the blankets closer around her. "…who are you?"
The man winced and pulled back slightly, looking as if he'd been struck. Or worse. He cocked his head to the side, staring at her with mouth agape as if he didn't understand her words. But she stared back at him, waiting patiently for an answer and growing all the more afraid when he didn't provide one.
"Tifa…" he whispered. His eyes softened and she could tell he was doing his best to be patient with her. But she couldn't remember anything. All she could remember was a familiarity about him, his warmth and his scent, that hair and the faded blue behind the glow in his eyes.
But it connected to nothing, and it scared her.
"Tifa, it's me. Cloud. You… you really don't remember me? What about last night?"
He looked just as scared as she felt now. She shook her head, not knowing how to answer without making the situation worse. She was lost and confused and afraid, but she was suddenly guilty for how she was making this stranger feel.
Why couldn't she remember? What had happened to her?
Who was she?
"Tifa…" she repeated slowly, sounding the name out between her lips. It resonated in her mind, and she thought she could hear it echo somewhere in her distant memory, a woman's soft voice calling out to her. But once again, the connection remained severed. "Is that… is that my name?"
The man - Cloud - bowed his head, closing his eyes and swearing quietly under his breath. He clenched both his hands into tight fists on the bed, wrinkling the sheets. His soft blond hair fell into his eyes and brushed the sides of his boyish cheeks, and Tifa didn't understand the compulsion she felt in her limbs to reach out and touch.
His reaction was gut-wrenching, and she hated that she was the one who was causing it. But she couldn't do anything about it, and perhaps, that was the worst thing of all.
She simply didn't know.
"I'm sorry," she found herself suddenly apologizing. "I just… I don't..."
Her voice broke and she started to cry into her hands. They were silent but ugly and terrified tears, and the man in front of her finally looked up, his blue-green eyes widening at the sound of her sniffles and sobs. He suddenly latched onto her wrists, the coolness of his leather and steel gloves shocking her as he gently pulled her hands away from her face.
"Hey," he bade her softly. "Don't cry, Tifa. It's gonna be okay. Just… tell me what you remember."
She swallowed back another sob, choking on it as she tried to stifle the weepy sounds escaping her throat. She felt the hot tears run down her cheeks, the horror unfurling and then tightening like a fist in her belly as she searched her memories but found nothing but broken fragments dipped in green, all faceless and nameless and disconnected from one another.
"I'm sorry," she repeated, shaking her head so that the tears rolled off of her cheeks and spilled onto the thumbs of his gloves. Seeing how tightly he held onto her suddenly scared her, and she pulled away abruptly, scooting back from him on the bed.
She didn't miss the hurt that flashed across his face or the pain in his eyes when he looked down at his now empty hands, didn't miss the way their corners glossed over with tears of his own. But she didn't know what to do.
She didn't know him.
"I don't… I don't remember anything."