It was a little past three in the morning and despite being unable to sleep longer than an hour or two at time for the past several days, Cloud was wide awake. Beside him, Tifa was having no issue whatsoever. She was curled on her side away from him, her breathing deep and even. Cloud was glad. Tifa had earned every second of her peaceful slumber.
She had amazed him in the past few days, in more ways than one. Terrified him too. In ways he feared he might never recover from.
Soft noises let him know that he was not the only one awake in the bedroom. Cloud stood quickly but carefully, doing his best not to jostle Tifa. He stepped lightly, moving to the bassinet next to the bed, bracing himself for the cries that were surely coming.
But they did not.
Cloud looked down at his daughter, lying at the center of the small, firm mattress. Like him, she was wide awake. In their short time together, they had already shared many wakeful nights. But typically, her little face was scrunched up in outrage and Cloud's ears would ring with the urgency of her demands.
Food, being one of the main ones. Although Tifa at this point was the only one who could help with that, Cloud did what he could. In the hospital, a nurse had shown him step by step how to change a diaper. Watched as he repeated the process, feeling like a clumsy giant as he handled the impossibly tiny body before him.
But he had learned. Cloud struggled with many things in life, but he was good at completing tasks. If you provided him with steps, he could accomplish them. At night, baby will cry. You get up, check the diaper. If it is wet or soiled, change it. If not, give the baby to Mom so she can feed her. Check the diaper again. Put the baby back to bed, always on her back.
Repeat. Again, and again.
It was exhausting but it had a rhythm to it. Cloud was beginning to feel like a zombie, capable of only the same repetitive movements. If Jacko woke me meowing, he might just find himself in a diaper, Cloud had thought the other night, slightly delirious as he spotted the striped cat streak past the door.
But still, it suited Cloud. Tifa needed as much sleep as she could get while she was recovering. And Cloud, who had never been a good sleeper in the first place, found himself struggling to shut off his brain in the aftermath of his daughter's arrival. He might as well have a task to accomplish.
Now, looking down at his daughter, something stopped him from the almost mechanical, repetitive routine. He had been getting fast at diapers, a strange sense of pride settling over him at how quickly he could get the crying baby clean and dry and ready for Tifa. Every moment that the baby was not crying was another undisturbed moment of sleep for her.
And yet, the baby still was not crying.
She was just lying there. Eyes perfectly round, bright and clear. Reddish brown in color and beautiful. Tifa's eyes. Staring up at Cloud out of a small, precious face topped with fuzz of blonde hair. His infant daughter.
He picked her up and lifted her against his shoulder, marveling at the ease with which he did it. Just days ago, he had been overly cautious, certain he might hurt her. Now, he carefully supported her body and neck with one arm while checking the diaper with the other.
It was dry.
Cloud looked over to Tifa in the bed. Still sleeping. The glowing clock on the nightstand told Cloud it had not even been an hour since the baby had last eaten. The timing did not always matter, he knew. When the baby was hungry, she would tell them. And she certainly did.
Shifting the baby over slightly, Cloud craned his neck to look at her face. She was not crying. Nor was she moving her face around, searching for food. Her diaper was clean and dry. But she was wide awake.
"What, then?"
The words slipped out of him, louder than he intended, and he cringed. He turned to check on Tifa again. No movement. He looked back at the baby. She blinked her eyes at him, more alert than ever.
"Let's let her sleep, hmm?"
He said it in a softer voice, looking right into his daughter's eyes. She did not communicate much yet, other than I'm hungry! or I'm wet!, but it seemed to Cloud that she agreed. Cloud carried her out of the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind them.
The hall was mostly quiet, but Cloud could hear the snores coming from the office, which also served as a guest bedroom. Barret was its most frequent guest, and it was his snores that filled it now. He had come to stay with them to help out during the final weeks of Tifa's pregnancy, but he had only been with them for a few days before she had gone into labor. Unexpectedly and violently.
Cloud's breath caught in his chest. He pushed the memory away. It was too recent, too raw. He quickly went down the hall as if he could outrun it, moving toward the other bedroom.
The room had once been Marlene and Denzel's. A few years ago, Cloud and Tifa had finished the third-floor attic, creating two separate bedrooms once the children had outgrown their shared room. It had been empty for a long time. Now, it was a nursery, though the baby would not sleep in it for some time.
Cloud tread carefully as he moved down the hall, squinting at the carpet in the dark. Since coming home from the hospital, presents had been appearing more frequently than usual on the floor near Cloud and Tifa's bedroom. Presents from their cat, in the form of something small, furry, and very dead.
Tifa, the children, and even Barret praised the bent-eared tabby. How sweet, he wants to help! And, you're such a good big brother, JayJay. All said in singsong voices while scratching him on his back, right above his tail, just how he liked it. Or in Marlene's case, while kissing him between the ears, something only she got away with.
Cloud, on the other hand, recognized the gifts for what they were. A knock against Cloud's manhood. A vote of no confidence in his ability to provide for Tifa and her new baby. Jacko lounged around, close to Tifa, even more self-satisfied than usual, giving Cloud unimpressed looks with his yellow eyes as he cleaned between his toe beans.
Tonight, thankfully, the hall was clear of bloody, fresh meal offerings or judgmental cats.
The nursery was clean, organized, and peaceful. Not yet used, but lovingly prepared. A sturdy crib with a mobile over it, dangling yellow stars. Sweet, framed illustrations that Tifa hung and rehung on the walls. A rocking chair that Cloud, Denzel, and Marlene had surprised Tifa with, making her burst into tears. Growing up, her mother had one just like it.
A soft, round quilt was on the floor. It had a smooth wooden arch above it, with various shapes hanging down. It was a gift from Cid and Shera, whose son just turned three years old. Just toss the baby on the floor, Cid told them. They'll be happy as a clam. Got us through the first four or five months. Shera had sighed and shaken her head. Please, she said. Do not toss the baby.
Cloud certainly did not toss, but rather carefully lowered his daughter onto the quilt. He laid on his stomach beside her on the soft braided rug, propping his elbow up to rest his chin in his hand. He flicked the wooden shapes above her, painted bright colors, but the baby did not seem to notice them. She was still looking at him.
"What do you think?" he asked.
He reached out a finger to stroke one tiny palm. Her fist closed around his finger, and he bounced it lightly against the blanket beneath her.
"It's a gift from your Uncle Cid and Aunt Shera," he told her. "Actually, it's kind of because of them you're even here."
Typically, if their friends got back together, it was in Edge. Seventh Heaven was there, which meant there was plenty of space to gather. Not to mention food and beverages. Plus, everyone seemed to find it natural to assemble back around Cloud and Tifa.
But this time, Cloud and Tifa had traveled to Rocket Town. Denzel was with them, of course. It was the second month of his summer break from school, and he was getting antsy. He never would have admitted it, but he also missed Marlene, who spent her summers in Corel with Barret. Both kids were excited to be reunited in Rocket Town, and hoped they would get another chance to explore the airship.
Seeing the airship, or even visiting Barret and Marlene, was not the purpose of the trip, however. Weeks earlier, Shera and Cid had welcomed a baby boy.
The gathering was warm and loud, like it always was. But in the middle, drawing everyone's attention, was a small bundle in Cid's arms. Tifa and Marlene had hovered close, oohing and aahing at the round cheeks and reaching out to stroke the soft patch of light brown hair. Even Barret crowded in, looking suspiciously misty-eyed as he looked between the small baby and Marlene.
Denzel and Cloud had hung back. Denzel was at an awkward early teenage phase. He was still boyishly sweet, but uncomfortable in his own, growing body. And prone to feigning disinterest to hide the fact. Cloud jostled his shoulder and jerked his head toward the armchairs in the corner. They sat down together, a bit removed from the chaos.
Their peace did not last long. Suddenly, Cid was standing in front of Cloud.
"Here ya go. Meet the newest Highwind."
It all happened too fast for Cloud to protest. The tightly swaddled infant was lowered into his arms. Cid adjusted his head slightly in the crook of Cloud's elbow, but then backed away. Stupefied, Cloud looked down at the baby. He was warm, his weight surprisingly solid. And most surprising of all, he seemed to be perfectly content being held by Cloud.
There was a brush of movement at Cloud's knee, and he realized Denzel was now kneeling close, to better see the baby. Cloud glanced at him, and Denzel smiled shyly.
After a moment, Cloud realized that everyone else had gathered around as well. Barret had his arm around Marlene, who was rolling her eyes as he sniffled about how she had once been that small. Cid was elbowing Shera, pointing at the other end of the room. There, leaning against the entryway, stood Tifa.
Cloud met her eyes from across the room. She was looking at him funny. Watching him sit in the tufted armchair with Denzel leaning close and a baby in his arms. Her head was tilted, and she was biting her lip. The look on her face was confusing to Cloud. It looked kind of like –
Well. It almost looked like a type of look that Tifa did not usually give Cloud when they were surrounded by people.
There was a snort of laughter and then a choking sound. Everyone's eyes were drawn to Cid and Shera. Shera's elbow was digging into Cid's side. She smiled and winked at Cloud.
"Hey, Cloud. You look good like that."
Cloud's cheeks had flamed, but the baby had saved him from further commentary by making a massive gurgling sound. A gurgling sound that had definitely not come from his mouth. Denzel sniffed then made a horrified face, fleeing toward Tifa.
"Oh gawd. Tifa, it smells like that time me and Marlene forgot our science experiment in the garage for a month."
Everyone laughed. Shera had rushed forward to rescue Cloud, lifting the now crying infant from his arms. Barret, to Marlene's horror, began reminiscing longwindedly about how Marlene had been an especially gassy baby. Denzel snickered, until Marlene threatened to tell everyone about the aftermath of the first time he tried pickled eggs.
The moment had passed, much to Cloud's relief.
Or so he thought. In the weeks that followed, after they returned home to Edge, he would catch Tifa looking at him. Sometimes, she seemed almost on the verge of saying something, but always turned away quickly when he gave her a curious look. Something, obviously, was on her mind.
One night in bed, the lights were off, and they were both trying to sleep. It had been a long day at the bar for Tifa and she had taken time to work out after Seventh Heaven closed. That, and a long bath before bed, all of it usually added up to Tifa conking out the minute her head hit the pillow.
But not tonight. She was cuddled close to Cloud, her hands tracing anxious little circles on his chest. Though she did not speak, her silence was as abrasive as the car alarms that sometimes got mistakenly triggered in the alleyway. Cloud did not really want to bring it up, but he could not wait her out any longer.
"Tifa, do you think about babies?"
It was not the most adept way to broach the topic, but there it was. Tifa's hand froze on his chest, and he felt her muscles tense against him.
"What do you mean?"
Her question was automatic, defensive. Cloud patiently ignored it. Eventually, she sighed and resumed her finger's light dance across his chest, at a more relaxed pace than before.
"Sure," she said. "I guess most women think about it at one point or another. When I was girl, I always just assumed I would have them one day. Almost all the women in Nibelheim were mothers."
Cloud grabbed Tifa's hand to still it. It was starting to get distracting.
"You are a mother, Tifa."
He felt her nuzzle into his shoulder. Though he could not see her, he could sense her contented smile.
"Yeah, I know."
Her voice was tender. She was already a mother. To Denzel, who she had taken in off the streets and nursed through a seemingly fatal disease. And Marlene, too. The only mother she had ever known, who helped raise her from the time she was two. Tifa was a good mother. Strong and wise and loving. Denzel and Marlene adored her.
How could they not?
Cloud was still holding Tifa's hand, but she was still fidgeting, playing with his fingers. Fine. He would just ask.
"Do you want to have a baby?"
That got Tifa's full attention. She pushed up on his chest so she could look him in the face. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Do you?!"
Cloud shrugged. "I've never really thought about it."
It was true. Life here with Tifa, their family, their home – it all brought Cloud more happiness than he ever expected to have in his life. He never really imagined that he might have more. It had not occurred to him to want it.
He tried to think about it now. Tifa looking soft and warm, the way Shera had when she had lifted the baby from Cloud's arms. Him, confident and proud, like Cid. Showing off their baby to all their friends. Denzel as a big brother, adoring and protective. But running away from dirty diapers. Marlene, overeager and spoiling the baby rotten.
And the baby would be…he could begin to image what the baby would be like. A little like Cloud and hopefully, a lot like Tifa.
A strange feeling was building in Cloud's chest. He tried not to squirm.
"Maybe?" Tifa answered him finally, in a whisper. "Or…I don't know."
Now neither of there were anywhere close to sleep. They laid together in the dark without speaking for a while, each lost to their own thoughts. Cloud wondered what Tifa was thinking about. If she too, was imagining what it might be like. Or perhaps, that was what she had been doing all week, when her eyes went distant as she looked at him.
"I guess we could…not, not try to have a baby?" Tifa ventured.
To Cloud's surprise, he found himself answering immediately. "Okay."
Cloud lowered his arm to the floor so he could rest his face closer to the baby's tiny, attentive face. He could see himself reflected in her eyes, still wide open. She had been listening to him raptly, or at least it appeared that way to him.
"For a long time, nothing happened. For over two years, actually. We didn't really talk about it again, but we didn't forget either. Then, one day, you made yourself known."
It was early morning.
Cloud had just used the bathroom and walked back into the bedroom to find that Tifa was awake, combing out her hair in front of her small, mirrored vanity. When she saw him, she set the comb down and smiled. Cloud moved behind her, lifting the heavy weight of her hair away from her face and leaning in to kiss her check.
Tifa leaned into the caress, but then she jerked away. She gave Cloud an odd look and even odder, sniffed at his hands.
"What is that?"
There was a note of disgust in her voice, and Cloud tried not to be offended. He had certainly washed his hands. He released Tifa's hair and put his hands up to his face to sniff them himself.
"Soap?" he said uncertainly. "From the bathroom?"
Tifa wrinkled her nose. Suddenly, Cloud remembered.
"Oh, right. I used Marlene's soap by accident. The fancy one she bought at the market the other day. She left it on the sink."
It was brightly colored, in a pretty, carefully crafted shape. Quite scented too. Usually Cloud avoided it, opting for the plain, lightly scented bar that Tifa kept stocked in all the bathrooms. But he had still been half asleep this morning and grabbed the other one accidentally.
Cloud shrugged apologetically, and they both started getting ready for the day. It never took Cloud long to get dressed and ready. Tifa was still getting changed by the time he started making the bed. She was efficient in the morning as well but seemed to be moving a bit slower today.
Tifa made a soft noise of discomfort that pulled Cloud's attention from straightening the pillows. He looked over to Tifa, next to the dresser. She had just pulled on a shirt, something looser than she would usually wear to work at the bar. Several other options were discarded around her.
"You good?" Cloud asked, moving a bit closer.
"Yeah," she said. "Just sore."
Tifa worked out regularly. It kept her sane. Her words, not Cloud's. One of her patrons had started a small, simple gym not far from Seventh Heaven. But Tifa had not gone the night before. Nor had it been an especially demanding day at the bar.
Cloud realized Tifa was gingerly palpating her chest, her face pulling in discomfort.
"Oh," Cloud said.
"I feel kind of weird," Tifa said.
That alarmed him. Cloud often felt weird. It was kind of his thing. His body and mind had been through a lot of things. At times, the way he felt could only be described as weird. But Tifa was rock solid. She got sad or unsure at times. Exhausted, occasionally overwhelmed. Over the years, Cloud had learned what she needed at different moments and in different moods.
But weird was new for her.
Tifa seemed to sense his uncertainty. She came over to him. He looped his arms around her, carefully to keep his offensive-smelling hands away from her face and not to compress her sore body too tightly. Tifa's hands came to his chest. She fiddled with the collar of his shirt. Made anxious little circles again.
"Hey, Cloud? I think maybe I should take a test. You know, just to be sure."
He did not need to ask what kind of test she meant. They had stocked pregnancy tests in the bathroom a while back, but scarcely used them. Tifa was regular. In the first few months after they had decided they would not necessarily try to have a baby, but would not prevent it either, Tifa had nervously jumped to take a test if she was even a day or two late.
The tests were always negative and confirmed definitively by Tifa's body soon after. They would shrug, smile wistfully. Agree that what would happen would happen.
After a few months, they really did not give it too much thought. Life was busy. Business was thriving – both Seventh Heaven and Strife Delivery Service.
Denzel and Marlene were older, growing more independent. And yet, they still kept them on their toes. They could now grab food on their own when they were hungry and put themselves to bed. But when they needed help, the challenges were always more complicated. Conflicts with their neighborhood friend. A teacher they felt was treating them unfairly at school.
Time passed. Months, a year. Soon, their stilted conversation almost seemed like a distant dream. Nice to remember sometimes, but hardly real in comparison to the demands of their everyday lives.
Now, things got real fast. Very fast. A timer set for just a few minutes went off. Tifa looked at the test strip. Showed it to Cloud. It was positive.
Nothing changed immediately, but at the same time, it felt like everything did. They shared a smile, full of trepidation and hope. Held one another, right there in the bathroom. A new feeling was blooming in Cloud's chest, like his heart was expanding and clenching at the same time. It was a good feeling, but somehow it hurt a little too.
Tifa felt like she always did, there in his arms. He tried to wrap his head around the idea that it was not just Tifa he was holding. Without meaning to, his hand had migrated to Tifa's stomach. Tifa backed out of his embrace so she could place her hand on top of his.
Her stomach was flat. It felt just the same as it always did. But the look on Tifa's face, that was different. It matched the way Cloud was feeling. Tender and awed and more than a little anxious.
It felt like they should do something, but Tifa assured him there really was not anything to do. She would have to see a doctor soon, but it was still too early for that. The pregnancy could not be more than three weeks along. And she did not want to tell anyone for some time. Just to be sure.
So they continued with their day. Tifa bustled around the bar, doing her usual morning routine. Cloud woke Denzel and Marlene up. Once. Twice. A third no-really-you-got-get-moving time. They ate breakfast together like always, except Tifa sat a bit farther away from Marlene, who smelled like overly scented soap. Cloud made a quiet plan for the soap to suffer an unfortunate accident. Perhaps Jacky knocked it into the toilet.
Life went on as usual.
Even after a doctor confirmed the pregnancy and later, when they felt comfortable sharing the news with others, Cloud was shocked at how little had changed. Tifa did not like to be fussed over. She kept Seventh Heaven running as usual, was just as attentive to Denzel and Marlene. Insisted Cloud not make any changes to his delivery schedule. A demand he only half listened to, unable to suppress his need to stay close.
For a long time, Tifa even looked the same. At first, she even slimmed down a bit from nausea and a lack of appetite. That scared Cloud, but it passed. A few months in and she was eating regularly again. Still, she looked much as she always did. Sometimes she was more tired than usual, and sometimes she had headaches. But there were no visible signs of a baby growing.
All of it confused and worried Cloud, but Tifa assured him everything was normal. Her initial weight loss, all her symptoms, the fact that she was well into her second trimester, but not yet showing. Everything was progressing as it should.
The doctors and nurses at Tifa's regular appointments reassured him too. As did Shera and Cid, when they called to check in. And some of Tifa's regulars, ones who had children of their own. Marlene too, who attended one appointment with Tifa and now considered herself an expert on all things pregnancy and babies.
It occurred to Cloud, that perhaps he ought to tone it down.
Then, one day, Tifa seemed different to Cloud. He watched her from across the bar, as she moved from place to place. The way she walked was not exactly how Tifa usually walked. Her stance seemed wider, he supposed. When she stood still, her back was curved, just a bit. Her hand drifted down every now and then, seemingly unconsciously, to cradle the lower curve of her belly.
And she had a belly, Cloud realized. Once he noticed, he found himself unable to look away from her. Seemingly overnight, Tifa actually looked like she was pregnant.
That night in bed, Tifa took his hand, and placed it under her shirt, running his fingers between her hipbones. There was a clearly defined bump. Not a big one, but it was undeniably there. Cloud shifted down the bed so he could see it better, tracing it over and over. Watching his fingers rise and fall over the smooth, stretched skin.
The bedroom window was open, and the moon was bright that night. When he looked up at Tifa, her face was glowing. From the moonlight, pregnancy, happiness, or perhaps all three. Cloud was not sure what his own face looked like, but when Tifa looked at him, it made her laugh. A joyful sound that he joined in on.
Tifa could not help but tease him.
"Did you have to see it to believe it? Thought perhaps me and the test and the doctors were wrong?"
Cloud rolled his eyes at her, but wondered if she had a point. He rested his hand on the swell just below Tifa's bellybutton. A baby. Their baby.
"I suppose it does feel more real now," Tifa conceded. "What do you think our baby will be like?"
She tugged him closer, pulling his head to her stomach just above the bump.
"Like you, I hope."
It was a joke many people, Cloud included, had made in response to them announcing the pregnancy. It did not bother Cloud. He did, in fact, hope in earnest that the baby would be more like Tifa than him. Patient and kind and strong and capable.
Tifa was not amused, though. She frowned.
"Well, I want the baby to be like you."
Cloud shrugged. "We'll have to agree to disagree."
"Be careful what you wish for," Tifa warned. "Remember, you were always the good one when we were little."
"Yeah, well that didn't last long. I was a pain in the ass as a kid," Cloud reminded her.
"A bit, maybe." Tifa reached down to pinch his cheek, and he swatted her hand away. "But I nearly drove my parents to their wits' end until I was about seven. Everyone said so, even your mom. And remember, I was a biter too!"
"Still are," Cloud said.
"Am not!"
"Hmm."
He shifted off Tifa's stomach, moving back up to the pillows to kiss her. She pulled back to give him a sassy look.
"Want to prove yourself right?"
He did.
Much like that happy night, tonight the moon was full. Though Cloud had not turned on any of the lights in the nursery, it was bright enough to see every detail of his infant daughter.
"I keep hearing how much you look like me," he confided. "But I still think you're going to be more like your mom."
He placed a hand on her head, cupping it over the most obvious resemblance to him. The blonde hair, a surprising amount of it. It was soft and downy, like a baby chocobo. Her face seemed so tiny, cupped in his hands.
"You have her eyes, of course. And you're beautiful. That couldn't have come from me."
The baby's hand swung up towards his face and a spike of Cloud's hair brushed against her open palm. Her fingers closed around it and yanked hard as the hand slammed back down to the blanket. Cloud yelped.
"Strong too. Ow. Yeah. Just like your mom."
As carefully as he could, he pried the tiny fingers off his hair. He sat up, rubbing his hand over his scalp. He knew that at this point, she did not have much control over her limbs, but he swore her hand strength was preternaturally powerful.
Now that his face was no longer close to hers, the baby moved her head back and forth. Her eyes looked upward, at the dangling shapes above her, but that did not seem to please her. She frowned, her bottom lip poking out and her brow furrowing.
Cloud hated to say it, but the scowl looked familiar to him.
"Okay, okay. Maybe they have a point."
The frown deepened, her tiny eyes scrunching shut. Her limbs began to fail. She made tiny, angry grunts. She was winding up to cry.
He moved quickly, scooping her back up against his body and standing.
"Hey, hey. Shh, it's alright."
Maybe she was hungry. Probably she needed to be brought to Tifa. Cloud took one step toward the nursery door.
But to his surprise, she settled. Cloud swayed uncertainly, shifting from side to side. He eyeballed the door. Glanced over to the clock on the wall. Only an hour now, since the baby had last eaten. Surely, they could let Tifa sleep a bit longer.
He looked at his daughter. She looked back at him, wholly relaxed.
"Huh. Guess you just wanted me to pick you up?"
Cloud moved over to the rocking chair. It was currently lined with pillows and blankets. It was the only place Tifa had been, other than the bed since they had gotten home. She had insisted on rocking with the baby, on the rare moments she had enough strength to get out of bed. Otherwise, Cloud would not dare to sit in it with the baby, before Tifa had a chance to do so first.
He sat in the chair, settling the baby in the crook of his arm. She kept her eyes fixed on him and it seemed to Cloud like her gaze was expectant.
"Right, where was I?" Slowly and carefully, he began to rock. "That's right. Your mom. I was saying you were strong, just like her."
Cloud shook his head. Tifa had proven her strength, time and time again. The strength of her fists, and of her heart. More than ever, in just the past week.
"She's unbelievable. Her strength. It's the only reason I'm here, really. But I'll tell you about that another time."
The chair, though newly made, creaked beneath them. Cloud made a mental note to check and oil its hinges. But for now, the sound was comforting.
"Your mom is strong," he said again. "But sometimes, that makes it difficult. When it's her turn to let others be strong for her."
Days passed. Tifa grew larger. But still, she moved through the world with grace. Her regulars doted on her, bringing her gifts and sweets. Moving surprisingly quickly, given her size, she would dash across the room to grab Cloud's hand and press it against her growing stomach, determined that he not miss out on a single kick.
Then, the final month of Tifa's pregnancy approached. Suddenly, she grew sluggish by midday. Sometimes, sitting at the dinner table after a full day of work, her eyes fluttered shut, right in the middle of one of the kids telling her a story. Her feet bothered her and no matter how hard he tried, Cloud could not rub the ache out of them at night.
She needed to slow down. Cloud said it. Her friends said it. Even the kids picked up on her weariness and for once, begged for chores they might take over.
But then, at an appointment, it was her doctor who firmly prescribed it. It was time to pull back. She could not be on her feet so often. Naps were encouraged, when necessary. The more sleep, the better. Was there anyone else who could help out with the bar?
Throughout the entire pregnancy, Tifa had done everything exactly as she should. She drank a lot of water. Her diet was immaculate. She exercised gently. Took her vitamins every day.
This, however, staggered her. This kind of rest and pampering were utterly unfamiliar. Naps? Even as a toddler, Tifa had refused them.
Immediately, it triggered a disagreement. Cloud thought it would be reasonable to hire extra help around the bar. Tifa had a few people she called on to bartend on the busier days. Surely one of them could manage the bar for only a month or so, before they shut it down for a while after the baby came? Or perhaps they could just start the temporary closing early?
And then there was Cloud's business. He saw no reason whatsoever to continue deliveries at this point. Leaving Tifa home alone, it was unfathomable.
"So, what?" Tifa had argued. "We just quit everything? Shut it all down? Just because I yawn a bit before bedtime?"
Cloud had only sighed. Stroked her cheek. Tucked a bit of hair behind her ears. This annoyed her too, he knew. His inability to fight with her when she was like this, no matter how hard she pushed at him.
In the end, they managed to agree to ask Barret to come stay with them. He had been hinting at it for weeks, anyhow, just waiting to be asked directly. Isn't the bar too much for Tifa to handle? I used to help at the old Seventh Heaven, you know, back in the day. Isn't Marlene missing me a bit? Bet Denzel wouldn't mind a ride to school. I'll bring the truck, you know. Could even help with the deliveries some, if you needed.
Barret's delight when they asked almost made Tifa forget her irritation. An excuse to leave his work and spend extra time with Marlene. The opportunity to be close when Cloud and Tifa's baby was born. He said yes, without hesitation. Immediately, he began making arrangements.
The night before Barret was supposed to arrive, though, Tifa had a difficult time relaxing. She wanted Cloud's office just so – clean, comfortable, and accommodating for Barret. She wanted his favorite foods ready, so they could thank him for coming. And should she rearrange the pictures in the nursery, just one more time? After all, he would be the first one outside Cloud or the children to see it. She wanted it to be perfect.
"Tifa, let me!"
Marlene had begged her, tugging her down from a stepstool in the nursery. Marlene and Tifa had consulted one another endlessly on how to decorate the nursery. How exactly to arrange the furniture. Marlene had helped Tifa pick out which pictures to hang on the walls, selecting a few favorite photographs of family and friends and soft, whimsical paintings of animals.
"I can cook! We made this together that one time, remember?"
Denzel had quickly thrust his hands into the sink, washing them with hot soap and water. He grabbed one of the spare aprons from a hook next to the pantry and stood in front of a cutting board. Began deftly chopping onions.
It was true. Everyone in their family knew how to cook to some extent. Cloud could make some sort of dinner, as long as it was simple. And he thrived at making packed lunches for the kids that only involved simple ingredients and steps to assemble. Marlene had an interest in baking, and could make a passable cake, though she was mostly interested in getting creative with the decorations.
But Denzel was the only one who wholeheartedly embraced Tifa's passion for cooking. Or had even a semblance of her talent and instinct for tweaking recipes. Cooking was their thing, what the two of them bonded over.
"Let me do that! Please, Tifa. Will you just sit down for a moment?"
Cloud lifted the linens out of her arms. She was leaving the laundry room, clearly heading back upstairs to make up Barret's bed.
The children, Tifa had obliged. But Cloud, she glared at. Standing there, in his unchanged body, muscular and trim. Energetic and strong and as light on his feet as ever.
She tightened her hands into fists. Her eyes filled with tears, lowering lip trembling. It only served to stoke her temper. First her heavy body, now her emotions, all of it betraying her. Cloud pretended not to notice as she swiped at her cheeks. Tried to pretend he was cowering under her glare.
"If you think it's so easy to sit around and do nothing, then why don't you try it!"
The challenge had been set. And Cloud was never one to back down from a challenge. He shrugged his shoulders. Moved over to the worn and well-used armchair. Sat down in it, yanking the ottoman toward him so he could prop up his feet. Gave Tifa a, "well what now?" kind of look.
Slowly and reluctantly, she sat down on the sofa. Crossed her arms. Made it clear that although she was sitting, she was not going to enjoy it. And certainly, she would not relax.
"Hey," Cloud said.
Tifa stiffened, readying herself for an argument.
"Marlene, my feet are cold. Could you bring some socks? Comfy ones."
Marlene had been frozen by the stairs. Tifa was not often unreasonable. She did not pick petty fights. It was unchartered territory. But Marlene understood this dynamic. It belonged solely to her and Cloud. It made Barret shake his head in mock anguish, the first time he witnessed it.
"I see it now," he said. "That's why you two get along. You're both just a couple of little stinkers."
She dashed up the stairs, returning with the loudest and fuzziest socks she could find. Cloud tried not to grimace. They were chocobo socks, patterned in bright and clashing colors. A birthday gift from Yuffie. One he had thanked her perhaps too profusely for, unable to tell whether or not she meant them as a joke.
He donned them now, while Marlene dashed off purposefully once more. Cloud looked at Tifa calmly, wiggling his toes. A dark look was her only response.
Denzel, who had witnessed the exchange from the entryway to Seventh Heaven, rolled his eyes and retreated back into the kitchen. He said nothing, but Cloud could almost hear what he was thinking. Not my circus, not my monkeys.
Denzel had said it to Cloud once before, and it had become a running joke. Cloud had been trying to get Denzel to help clean up the living room, though Denzel had only been partially responsible for its mess. He had been surprised at Denzel's sullen refusal. The eager kid had become a willful teenager.
He had smirked at Cloud. "Not my circus, not my monkeys."
The line had taken Cloud aback. Certainly, the attitude shocked him. But it was also a strange phrase to say. Not something that Denzel would have picked up from one of the other kids at school or a neighborhood friend. Perhaps he had heard Cid say it. Or Gordy, the old war veteran who frequented the bar and was more or less a pseudo grandfather to them all.
Parenting a teen took care and thought. Cloud gave his response none, responding with almost equal attitude.
"Well, like it or not this is, in fact, your circus. And me, Tifa, and Marlene – we're your monkeys. And everyone in this circus helps out."
Denzel made a face at him and Cloud responded by scratching his head and making one, singular monkey noise. It broke the tension. Denzel groaned. Covered his face dramatically. But he started helping clean up. And in the midst of it all, he said the words that every teen said to their parents at some point.
"Oh gawd. You are so embarrassing sometimes."
Small, quick footsteps on the stairs pulled Cloud's attention away from his reminiscing. Marlene came back into the living room, a pillow in her hand. She side-eyed Tifa, who had refused almost every offer of help in the past few hours, before smiling sweetly at Cloud.
"Would you like a cushion for your feet?"
She used a grand tone, as if offering Cloud the finest of services. Cloud nodded gravely.
"Why yes, please. I would. How thoughtful."
With a flair, Marlene fluffed the pillow. Cloud lifted his feet so that Marlene could slide the pillow underneath. He made an aah sound as he settled his feet onto the cushion. Cloud leaned back in his chair, doing his best impression of someone enjoying the height of luxury.
Tifa was frowning. Her feet were propped up too, stretched out along the sofa. They were swollen, almost double the size they usually were. None of her shoes currently fit. She resigned herself to loose slip ons that never matched what she was wearing. It pained her almost as much as her feet themselves.
"Hey, Tifa. Would you try this?"
Denzel called out to Tifa from the doorway. He was holding a ladle full of food, his hand cupped beneath it in case it spilled. A careful, considerate boy despite all of his teenage bravado and feigned apathy.
"It never tastes as good as yours when I make it. Maybe you can help?"
Nobody had asked Tifa for help with anything in days. They had all tried to hold her back from the thousands of things she did for each of them every single day. With all the love in their hearts of course, and the best of intentions.
But Cloud could see it now, in the way Tifa nodded, and the dampness in her eyes how much she just wanted to be able to do what she loved most in the world. Take care of her family.
Denzel lifted up the ladle and Tifa tasted the food. She smacked her lips thoughtfully. Cloud could practically see the cogs turning in her mind. The same concentrated look she made in the evenings, jotting down notes in recipe book in the office between their home and Seventh Heaven.
"Just a smidge too much garlic, Denzel. Add an acid," she suggested. "We should have some lemons. And I think you forgot to salt."
Denzel nodded seriously. Then, a bright and unselfconscious smile broke across his face. It was a rare one these days, and Tifa was one of its exclusive recipients.
"Thanks, Tifa. You always know what to do."
And then, for the first time all day, perhaps all week, Tifa smiled back. The beauty of it stunned Cloud for a second. He turned just in time to see Denzel heading back into the kitchen.
Where in the world, Cloud wondered, did he get it from? This boy of theirs, who had been a sickly, weak child in their early days together, had somehow grown into a sturdy, well-defined person, generous, and kind. Cloud was so proud of him every single day.
But seeing him care for Tifa, anticipating what she needed so deftly and supporting her with such care. It did something to Cloud. Made him want to burst into the kitchen in his chocobo socks and smother Denzel in a hug, no matter how many times he got called embarrassing.
"Hey Marlene?"
Tifa's voice distracted him. It was her usual soft voice, no longer harried or annoyed. There was a note of apology and regret in it.
"Could I please have a pillow for my feet too?"
Marlene was already moving back up the stairs. Cloud watched her go. The corners of his mouth were twitching. He struggled to keep a neutral look on his face, biting back a smile.
For the rest of the evening, Tifa's mood was improved. They ate together in the living room holding bowls in their laps, the kids sitting on the floor by the sofa. Eventually, Tifa even allowed Cloud to come sit with her, pulling her feet into his lap to try and massage out some of the ache.
Marlene curled up next to Tifa, head resting against her protruding stomach. She had a book in her hand, something she was supposed to read for school. Marlene had made it a habit to read aloud to the baby, determined that her voice might be one of the baby's most familiar and favorite, even before their birth.
The soothing touch of Cloud's hands, the warm meal Denzel had made them, and the rhythm of Marlene's quiet voice as she read, all of it had Tifa's eyes drooping. Tifa was in such a good, languid mood that Cloud felt brave enough to suggest they go up to bed early. To his shock, she agreed.
The kids offered to wash the dirty dishes that were now scattered around the living room and to finish cleaning the kitchen. Marlene immediately began gathering plates. She was transparent in her mild jealousy that Denzel had done more to help out that night than she had. They left the kids to it. If it was a competition, they would get the job done in no time.
Despite Tifa's clear exhaustion, in bed she was restless. She pulled the covers up only to kick them off a moment later, unable to decide if she was hot or cold. Rolled to one side, using Cloud to try and get her arms and legs into a comfortable position. Rolled to the other side instead, latching onto a pillow.
She stayed there for some time, her back facing him. Cloud laid next to her as still as he possibly could, worried but cautious of her growing irritation.
With a huff, Tifa sat up in bed, slamming her hands down into the now tangled blankets.
"I can hear you thinking!" she accused. "It's keeping me up. Why don't you just sleep? One of us should get to."
The words were fighting words, but Cloud could hear the tears building behind them. He sat up as well, just watching her for a moment as she pressed her face into her palms, trying to reregulate herself. Gingerly, he placed a hand on her back. When she did not shrug it off, he rubbed gently between her shoulders.
"Come here," he said.
Cloud shifted the pillows around to prop them up behind them and moved to the center of the bed. He guided Tifa to sit between his legs, pulling her torso back to rest against his chest. His hands smoothed over her stomach, coming to rest at its lower curve. Carefully, he lifted up, taking its weight in his arms. Sometimes it helped, giving Tifa a break from the relentless pressure on her back and pelvis.
Tifa sighed, her head falling back against Cloud's shoulder. They sat there together, unmoving other than Cloud's thumbs stroking at the soft skin of Tifa's stomach where he held it. He felt Tifa's muscles relax, her breathing becoming even.
"Cloud?" Tifa mumbled sleepily.
"Hmm?"
Tifa turned her head so she could kiss him, on his cheek near his jaw. She shifted down a bit and Cloud moved with her. They settled down in bed, Tifa curled into his side.
"I hope the baby is like you," she whispered, the last thing she said before falling asleep.
For once, Cloud let himself consider the possibility that maybe it would not be the worst thing in the world if the baby was.
The nursery felt just as quiet and peaceful now as that evening in bed together. They did not know it yet, but it had been the calm before the storm. Barret had arrived that weekend. He did all the things that Tifa would get annoyed if Cloud tried to do. Took over making breakfast for the kids. Organized the supply cabinet at the bar. He even helped Cloud, taking on a few local deliveries.
"Your Uncle Barret was a huge help," Cloud said.
He was still rocking, and the baby was still awake. Still watching him.
"He still is. You already know him. You look so tiny when he holds you."
Cloud smiled a bit, picturing it. Barret cooing at the little bundle of baby in his arm while Marlene tugged at his free arm, demanding her turn.
"Uncle Barret is your sister Marlene's dad. Just like I'm your dad and Denzel's," he explained. "But Tifa has been like a mother to Marlene her entire life. And I'm Marlene's…"
The baby's brow was furrowed again, and Cloud cleared his throat.
"Uh, it sounds complicated. But we don't overthink it. We're all family."
A few more rocks and the baby's face became serene again. He knew she would understand.
"Uncle Barret doesn't live here all the time, but this is his home too, here with us. He works in Corel most of the year and Marlene goes there sometimes too. But Barret is always here when we need him. He always shows up, helps hold us together when we're about to fall apart."
A tight feeling was building in Cloud's chest. The recent memories were rising to the surface, ones he was not sure he was ready to face. But looking down at the little baby girl in his arms, he felt he could not back away from it.
It had only been a few short days ago. He had successfully suppressed his emotions surrounding it so far. He knew, though, that he would not be able to hide from it forever. The day his daughter was born. One of the most pivotal days of his life. But also, one of the most terrifying.
It had been a rainy spring so far, and this day was no exception. The kids had wheedled Barret into giving them a ride to school in his clunker of a truck, though they typically walked rain or shine. Barret was a pushover for them. He agreed immediately, then demanded a shopping list from Tifa so he could run errands for them while he was out.
After Barret left, Tifa had been even more antsy than usual. She sat down, only to stand back up. She paced into the living room, back in the bar. Picked up a rag to start cleaning, then sat it back down. Eventually, she headed upstairs to sort through a box of hand-me-downs that Cid and Shera had sent to them.
Cloud tried to give her space, while keeping a watchful eye on her. He sat on the floor of the nursery, surrounded by bits and pieces of some contraption for infants he had been tasked to assemble. He made little progress on it, glancing up every now and then to check on Tifa.
Barret had only been gone a half hour or so when Tifa braced one hand on the wall and one on her back. Pain rippled across her face. Immediately, Cloud was at her side. Though she needed her space these days, she took his hand automatically. Cloud felt the bones of his hand grinding under the strength of her grip.
"You're not…?"
He snapped his mouth shut when Tifa grimaced, shaking her head. She closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths that she audibly exhaled through her mouth. It seemed to pass. She opened her eyes and straightened.
"I don't think so," she said.
It was still somewhat early. Tifa was not due for another two and a half weeks. Practice contractions happened, they knew. Tifa had felt them here and there during her final months of pregnancy. It had happened to Shera too, Tifa told him. In fact, Shera and Cid had rushed to the hospital weeks before their due date, only to get sent back home.
Tifa's hand clamped down on his again. She closed her eyes, breathing audibly once more. But this time, the rhythm of her breathing broke with a strangled gasp. It hit Cloud directly in the chest, but he pushed back his panic, holding steady while Tifa rode out the wave of pain.
After a moment, Tifa released his hand. She was panting slightly.
"But maybe we should go to the hospital? Just in case?"
Cloud did not need to be asked twice.
"I'll call Barret," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. "He can drive us over."
Tifa nodded. "I'm just going to use the bathroom first. Maybe grab a few things from the bedroom."
She left the nursery, before Cloud could protest. Eager to make this as quick as possible, Cloud dialed Barret. He picked up immediately.
"You good?"
Barret's voice was slightly anxious. Cloud knew the feeling.
"Hey, uh, could you come back? Give us a lift to the hospital?"
Cloud heard a squeal of tires, as if Barret had suddenly switched directions.
"I'm only a few minutes away. She in labor?"
"Dunno. Maybe. Thanks."
He hung up the phone.
The next part haunted him. It came to him in flashes when he expected it the least. And even now, when he intentionally tried to call it to mind, the images were uncanny and distorted. Like a nightmare or fever dream.
The call barely lasted a minute. After, Cloud went to the bedroom first. Why had he done that? Still, he could not understand it. But he knew they were supposed to have a bag. Tifa had started to pack one, though she still had not settled on exactly what she wanted to bring in it.
He heard the cry from down the hall. It raised the hair on the back of his neck.
Suddenly, he is in front of the bathroom door, heart pounding, no memory of leaving the bedroom and racing down the hall. He is still holding a pair of Tifa's pajamas. A disembodied hand, his own, opens the door.
Tifa is on the floor, slumped against the sink. Her hands are gripping her stomach. She is pale. There is blood on the tile. There is so much blood.
Now Cloud is on the floor too, Tifa's name leaving him in a sob, her body in his arms. Her skin felt clammy against his. She cries out again, a scream that rips Cloud's heart in half, unlike anything he has ever heard. Her body tenses and convulses.
"It's okay. It's okay. Tifa, I'm here. It's going to be okay. Tifa, it's okay."
Cloud is stammering, trying to hold Tifa up while fumbling for his phone. His hand feels clumsy, and he nearly drops it, it is so slick, why is it slick? Blood smears on the phone as he hits redial.
Another scream turns Cloud's brain into a white haze of panic. He shouts into the phone, his voice unrecognizable to himself, the words garbled and tripping over one another.
"Something is wrong – help, we need help, oh god please hurry."
Barret was already there.
Somehow, they made it to the hospital. Later, Cloud would remember a blanket wrapped around Tifa. The gentle way Barret lifted her into his arms and carried her down the stairs. Tires squealing. Cradling Tifa's upper half in his lap in the backseat of Barret's truck.
The hospital lights are harsh and blinding. There are so many people, unfamiliar doctors and nurses. Surrounding Tifa, syringes and tubes in hand. Talking to Cloud, reassurances and questions. They are between Cloud and Tifa. He wants them to move. He wants it all to go away.
Amidst the chaos, some respite. Cloud is next to a hospital bed. Tifa is out of her bloody clothes, wearing a hospital gown. Tubes and wires crisscross her body and there are multiple beeping noises from the machines monitoring her nearby.
Cloud has changed too. Someone gave him scrubs. Took away his own bloody clothes. He is holding Tifa's hand. Stroking her hair out of her face, which is still pale and haggard with pain. Her breathing is ragged. But her eyes are open. She is with him. She is not screaming.
"Baby is coming."
A nurse speaks to them and Cloud tries to focus on her voice. She is talking to them both, but now she leans close to address Tifa.
"Baby is already in the birth canal," she says. "We have the surgeon on standby, but if you feel strong enough to push, it's best if we proceed with the delivery."
Tifa nods.
"Yes," she says. "Yes. I can do it."
She does. There are more cries of pain. The bones of Cloud's hand start to feel like dust. A nurse on either side of her, holding her legs. Words of encouragement from them, telling her that she is doing well, so well. A doctor at the foot of the bed. More doctors. Eyes fixed on the various monitors.
There is a shift in the mood of the room. Sudden activity. The monitors are beeping at a different rate, sending some message that Cloud does not understand, but the doctors and nurses are taking as a sort of rally to action.
Cloud looks at Tifa. There is a shift in her too. The determination that had settled on her is gone from her face. Her face is strange, almost dreamy. Though her eyes are open, they are distant, searching the ceiling.
"Tifa. Tifa, hey."
He turns her head to face him, but she does not seem to see him. Tifa speaks, her voice faint, but she does not speak to him.
"Mom," she cries. "Mom, please. Mom, I need you."
Tifa looks past him, like she is already somewhere else. No, Cloud think. He hears his own voice. He says Tifa's name. He begs her to look at him. Pleads with her to stay. A tumble of words, wrenched directly from his heart to his lips.
Hands are on him. Cloud throws them off. He needs to stay with Tifa, to make sure she does not go without him. Urgent, stern voices. Explanations that they needed to get to the mother. Now. Out in the hall, someone shouts for assistance.
Arms come around Cloud. Large ones. Perhaps the only ones in the world strong enough to pull Cloud away from Tifa in a moment like this.
And then they are in the hall. It is bright out here. Quieter too, free of the beeping and the voices. It does not smell like blood. The arms are still around Cloud. They are keeping him on his feet.
Suddenly he is limp. He is sobbing. The arms are no longer just holding him up. They are holding him together.
"Hey, man. I got you. She's gonna make it, hear me? She's a fighter. And they're in there, right now, taking care of her. It's all gonna be fine. But you gotta get it together, hear me? She needs you."
Nothing gets through to Cloud like a reminder that Tifa needed his strength. Breath by breath, he levels out. Barret grabs his shoulder and pulls back, making sure that Cloud is steady enough on his feet.
"Mr. Strife?" A nurse steps out into the hall. "She's stable now. Baby too. The baby's head is almost out. We need her to push, just a few more times, but she's having a hard time. She wants to see you."
Barret gives Cloud a shove.
And then, he is back in the room. It still smells like blood. It is still loud with beeps and voices. But Tifa is there. Sweaty and pale. Her grip on his hand is weaker than it was before. But she looks at him. Sees him. Says his name.
"Cloud," she whispers.
"Hi," he manages, fingers tangling in her damp hair. "Hi Tifa."
"Cloud, I don't know if I can –"
"You can. I'm here. I know you. You can do anything."
A spark of strength returns to her eyes. She yells. She pushes. Cloud does not look away from her. Even as there is a flurry of activity at the end of the bed, even as the sharp scent of blood fills the room again, stronger than before. Even as another yell fills the room, an unfamiliar and demanding sound that speaks to something inside him.
And then, Cloud and Tifa are not alone. The nurses place a wet, bloody something on Tifa's chest and the noises stop. Tifa has tears on her cheeks, but she is smiling, her fingers reaching up to touch the bundle on her chest. Someone is speaking to them, but Cloud does not hear it. All he can see is Tifa. When Tifa turns to him, he lowers his forehead to hers.
Her hand cradles the back of his head, and they stay like that, for just a moment. But then Tifa is backing away. She tilts his face away from her.
"Cloud, look. Look at her. You have a daughter. Look."
He does. They look together. She is red and wrinkled. There are fluids on her, and it occurs to Cloud that her head is not quite the shape he expected it to be. She is beautiful. Tifa strokes the damp blonde hair on her head, and she opens her eyes.
Tifa, Cloud thinks. His daughter has Tifa's eyes. They are big and fringed with dark lashes. They are brown. When the light hits them, some might call them red.
"Thea," Tifa says. "Cloud, she has my mom's eyes. What do you think about calling her Thea?"
Names were the one thing that Cloud and Tifa had been at a loss about. Everyone seemed to have ideas and suggestions, but none of them felt right. The possibilities seemed endless. Finally, they decided to stop worrying about it. When they saw the baby, perhaps they would know.
And so they had.
"Thea. Yeah. You're right, Tifa. That's her name."
Someone is at the head of the bed now, intruding on the moment. A nurse places a careful hand on Tifa's arm. A cart is next to her, a clear, blanket-lined container atop it.
"Baby seems to be doing fine," she says. "We like those healthy, strong cries. But she's still here a bit early. We need to make sure everything is okay."
Tifa looks between Thea and the cart beside the nurse. Her eyes are round as comprehension dawns over her face.
"You're taking her away?"
The question is breathy, panicked. Tifa's chest is moving quickly, she is on the verge of hyperventilating. In the brief, blissful moment of meeting her daughter, she seemed to have forgotten the pain and confusion. But now it returns to her face. She is exhausted. She hurts. She has lost a lot of blood.
"Just for a little while," the nurse consoles her.
"I'll come too. I want to stay with her. Can't I just –"
But the nurse is shaking her head. She is beginning to look nervous, her face glancing back to make eye contact with the doctor, whose face is calmer than before but still grim.
"We're still taking care of you here. You're still bleeding. You had a placental abruption. Do you know what that means? It means that –"
Tifa was beyond hearing. She placed a hand over Thea and began to sit up. Alarmed, the nurse placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. Tifa's eyes went wild, darting over to Cloud. Her forehead was shiny with sweat again.
"Dad can go with her!" The nurse's voice was low and soothing. "How does that sound? He can stay with her the whole time."
The words calm Tifa. She relaxes back into the bed. Kisses Thea on her head. Suddenly, she seems to have a hard time keeping her eyes open. Her protests have drained her last reserves of energy.
"I'll see you soon, Thea. Your dad is going to go with you. You'll be safe with him," she mumbles.
Then, the nurse has Thea in the plastic container. Cloud hates it. The baby looked so right on Tifa's chest. As the cart begins to move, it occurs to him that this is the farthest she has ever been from her mother.
"Cloud?" Tifa's voice is weak, but urgent. "Cloud, please. Go. Promise you'll stay with her?"
Tifa eyes are struggling to focus. The doctor is still working between Tifa's knees, her feet in stirrups and a paper blanket draped over her legs. A nurse and another doctor are speaking in the corner exchanging urgent whispers. Tifa looks small and frail in the hospital bed. Here, where he had almost lost her. And she is still losing blood.
Cloud froze.
In the moonlit nursery, Cloud fell silent while holding his baby daughter. He stroked her round cheeks. Ran his fingers over the soft hair that covered her fragile, delicate head. Tapped a finger to her lips, small and pink. Looked at the eyes that were just like Tifa's.
"I didn't want to go," he blurted.
The confession burst out of him, hot shame burning in his chest. He had kept the feeling, the memory, buried for days. To speak of it now felt like lancing an infected wound. More came out of him.
"I didn't want to leave. I almost let you go alone. I wanted to stay with Tifa."
Tears were on his cheeks now, but he was not yet done. That was far from the worst of it.
"And before, when I thought I was losing her." Cloud swallowed, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I wanted to go with her. I wished that I'd be taken too."
Both moments had been quick. Cloud had left the hospital room, followed the plastic cart that held their baby. He never took his eyes off Thea, even once. And the terrible thought he had while Tifa had been dying, was just that. A thought. And besides, Tifa had not died.
Still, Cloud could not deny that either had happened. He felt it fully now, what those moments had been. Not a betrayal in action, but a betrayal in his heart. His first failures as a father. He had let her down, his daughter who was so small and helpless, entirely dependent on Cloud and Tifa to love her and keep her safe.
He shifted Thea into both hands, cupping her head carefully and holding her up in front of him so that they were nose to nose.
"I'm sorry, Thea."
Cloud pressed his forehead to hers, the way he had with Tifa right after Thea was born.
"I'm sorry," he said again. "But it will never happen again. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
He lifted his head so he could look her in the eyes again, but he kept his face close.
"I'll probably make so many mistakes, and I'm sorry for that too. But I'll always be there for you. Whenever you need me, I'll be there. I promise."
Thea's only response was to yawn. She smacked her lips and blinked her eyes up at Cloud. She made small, sleepy noises. They tugged at Cloud's heart. He kissed her lightly, right on the tip of her perfect little nose.
Cloud tucked Thea back into his arms, holding her against him. Her body molded against his and it felt like a missing piece of his heart had fallen into place. His daughter. One part Tifa, and one part him. Thea gave a deep sigh and fell asleep.
He could have stayed with her forever, watching her sleep in his arms. But another hour had passed. Even if she was sleeping now, Thea would need to eat again soon. And Tifa might be worried if she woke up and found them both gone.
They left the nursery and went back into the bedroom. Inside, Tifa was awake, sitting up in bed. Cloud paused uncertainly in front of her, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"Sorry Tifa, didn't mean to worry you."
Tifa's face was calm. Content.
"I wasn't worried," she said. "I knew she was with you."
The trust in her voice simultaneously staggered and warmed him.
"I think she likes me," he said.
Tifa raised an eyebrow and Cloud felt himself blushing. It was a stupid thing to say. It was a confession as well, of a worry he had not known that he had secretly harbored.
"I meant, she likes it when I hold her," he added. "She likes it when I talk to her, too."
"Is that so," Tifa said softly. "Who would have thought. And what exactly have you two been talking about all this time?
There was a loaded pause. Cloud shifted a bit from foot to foot. Tifa tutted, but she was smiling. She looked delighted.
"Hmph. Look at that. You two have secrets from me already."
Cloud could not help but smile back at her teasing tone. She looked soft and happy. Head over heels in love. With him, and with her baby. More than that, she looked strong sitting up in bed. Tired still, but like her former strength was coming back.
Tifa frowned, a worried look dampening the joy in her eyes. She leaned forward a bit, looking at Cloud's face. He remembered, suddenly, that he had been crying. Cursed himself for not stopping by the bathroom to wash his face.
"Hey, you okay?"
Am I okay? I'm not the one who just birthed a baby. The one who almost –
Cloud nearly made a glib response, brushing off her worry. But the words stuck in his throat. His chest felt tight again. He wondered if he were about to lose it again, a grown man, a father, crying like the baby he held in his arms.
Tifa had climbed out of bed, moving gingerly but well enough on her own. She bent her head down to Thea and kissed her, one cheek after another. Gently, she pried the baby from Cloud's arms and placed her in the bassinet.
"Don't you need to feed –"
"Shh. She'll be alright for a little while longer."
She took Cloud's hand and led him back to the bed. He helped her lower back into it, and Tifa tugged him down after her. She sat up against the pillows. Grabbed his head and patted her chest.
Carefully as he could, Cloud moved to lay between her legs, lowering his body down into her arms and resting his head against her chest. It took a moment for them to adjust and find a comfortable position. Tifa's body was different and soft, but also tender in new places from childbirth and nursing.
But finally, they settled, and Tifa's arm fell heavy across Cloud's chest from behind. He held it to him, pressing her palm over his heart. Tifa's other hand was in his hair, fingernails light on his scalp, scratching and stroking in a way that never failed to sooth him and send tingles all the way down his spine. His head rose and fell with her steady, even breaths.
"Want to talk about it?"
Her voice was light and undemanding. Only if you want to. Cloud lifted her palm to his face, kissed it, then held it to his cheek. She could feel the dampness of his tears, he was certain. But he found that he did not mind.
"Not yet," he whispered.
He felt her nod. She rubbed her thumb across his cheek. Continued to stroke his hair. I'm here when you're ready. Tifa did not say it, but he felt it in her touch.
I'm here, too, Cloud thought. For both of you. And for the first time since his daughter had been born, Cloud was able to fall asleep easily. He drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, getting the rest he had missed out on for the past several days. All thirty minutes of it, before Thea woke up again, reminding Cloud once more just how much his daughter needed him.