Had to unformat this and use Notepad, 'cos I can't seem to get any formatting, etc. Sucks, huh? MY.
Betweentimes
In other words, from after Final Fantasy VII to a few months before Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Cid landed the Highwind. "You're sure people survived... that?" he asked, incredulously.
Cait Sith nodded. "Okay, so I'm actually in Kalm right now - but I'm getting reports that Meteor and Holy didn't penetrate the plates. The people evacuated to the slums... they're okay."
"What about Marlene?" Barret's foster-daughter was the main reason he had started AVALANCHE in the first place. That and the obliteration of Corel from the map, of course. She was really the daughter of his best friend Dyne, rescued from Corel by Barret as an infant, the only other survivor of Shinra's massacre there.
"She's here in Kalm," Cait Sith - actually Reeve of the Shinra Corporation - replied. "She's safe, Barret."
Yuffie came through. "Open the door, Cid - I need to... ulp!"
Cid hurriedly pressed some buttons. Yuffie had the world's weakest stomach when it came to air or sea travel, apparently.
A white-faced Cloud followed her from the cockpit, overtaking her on the way.
Perhaps only second-weakest, Cid amended. Cloud didn't travel particularly well, either. He'd been so focussed on what needed to be done that he'd managed to push his queasiness down for a while - but it looked like he needed some fresh air himself. And a spot out of the wind to throw up.
"We should go and check anyway," Vincent continued the conversation.
"Yes," Red XIII nodded his great shaggy head. "There will be many frightened and confused people in the city."
"I've got to see Marlene," Barret said. "I've got... something to give to her." His flesh-and-blood left hand touched the locket Dyne had given him before he died - the locket that had belonged to Marlene's real mother.
"I'll come with you," Cait Sith said. "I'm co-ordinating the relief and rescue efforts - and I might as well have my lucky mascot back."
"I'm going into Midgar," Tifa decided. "You can get in touch with me there, Reeve. I've got the PHS."
Cid looked round them all. "Okay - you know I've got to get back to the folks in Rocket Town real soon," he said. "All ashore for Midgar - I can drop you and this soft toy off nearer Kalm if you like, Barret," he added.
"Yuffie will probably want a lift back to Wutai," Red XIII pointed out. "So don't be in too much of a hurry, Cid."
The three of them disembarked. Yuffie was taking deep lungfuls of air, not far from the door. "You going to Midgar?"
Tifa nodded. "Where's Cloud?" she asked.
Yuffie shrugged. "I was... busy," she said, with some truth - and no little embarrassment.
They forbore to mention the hole she'd dug a few feet away, filled with noisome material and not quite properly covered over with soil. The sixteen year old ninja could be touchy sometimes - especially about her airsickness.
"Cid will return you to Wutai, if you want," Vincent said, softly.
She sighed, then brightened. "Well - there isn't anything left to come up. See you!" She headed back inside.
Tifa had walked away from the airship and was looking around. "Cloud? Cloud!" she called.
Red XIII joined her, sniffing the air delicately. "His scent says he's already heading for Midgar," he said.
"Without m... us?" Tifa amended.
"Perhaps he needs some time to himself," Vincent murmured as he came over. "The battle was... onerous."
The Highwind lifted off, heading for Kalm - then, presumably, Wutai. They watched it go.
"We'd better go and see what's happening in Midgar," Tifa said, slowly. Why had Cloud gone off without them? Surely he must have known that they'd want to help the people of Midgar?
Cloud had managed to conquer his nausea, thanks to the fresh air, and quickly headed for the ravaged city. His first stop was a ruined church on the outskirts of the slums. Part of the floor was missing, a carpet of flowers covering it instead. He touched one of the hardy blooms, then picked it, placing it inside his backpack. "You know who it's for," he said, softly.
The slums were crowded, but he managed to get to part of one slum where he could begin the long tough climb to the warped plates high above. He needed transport - and he hoped he'd be able to find what he needed up there, where the fortunates of Midgar had lived.
Two hours later, having scavenged things he needed from the broken and distorted super-city, Cloud kick-started the motorbike he'd discovered inside the warped shell of the Shinra Company HQ. He rode along the various cracked and debris-strewn roads until he came close to the edge of the plate.
"Here goes nothing," he murmured, riding back a few hundred yards. The soil surrounding Midgar was dead, dry sand, soft to land in... even from this height, he hoped, as the bike launched into the air, carving the sky with a roar.
He managed to somehow keep control as he landed almost sideways, and slowed down, looking back at the city. The Highwind was long gone, but he was sure some of his friends had gone into the city to help. He had something else he needed to do, though - a promise he'd made to himself once he remembered who he really was...
The last time he'd stood here it had been raining, the skies overhead dark with thunderclouds, and the lights of Midgar's Mako reactors had shone like galaxies before him. It was broad daylight now - and Midgar looked like a model that someone had taken a steam-hammer to.
He opened the front of the bike - it held storage panniers under the fairing, on either side of the wide front wheel - and brought out a rolled-up bag. He unzipped it, then knelt down and quickly dug into the loose dry sand that lay beneath the rocks he'd moved earlier. It didn't take long before he found what he was looking for, wrapped securely in a blanket and tied with rope. He could just about remember burying his best friend - a lot of those memories were still dim and nightmarish, because he'd been so ill.
He didn't uncover Zack's corpse - just rolled the blanket-wrapped form into the body bag he'd 'liberated', put the flower from the church in, zipped it and fastened it onto the back of the bike. If their positions had been reversed... Cloud hoped that if it had been him, his mother would have preferred to know the truth, rather than mourn him and expect him to return in equal measures.
He took Zack's Buster Sword out of the pannier and stuck it into the ground, blade first. "I... just hope I'm doin' the right thing, Zack," he murmured. "I've got no parents; they've got no son... maybe it'll balance out if I live for both of us."
He got back onto his bike, pulled down his sunglasses against the glare of the sun on the sandy earth, and rode away. Midgar fell into the distance behind him - he needed to go to Junon, to find a boat across to the next continent. Zack was from Gongaga - not really that far from Nibelheim, the town where Cloud and Tifa had grown up...
It was time for Zack to finally return home.
The refugee camp had spread into a ring around the dead city and its abandoned slums. Buildings were in various stages of construction - but Reeve had insisted on making sure that water and sewerage lines were opened up and run in to the camp, to avert a plague spreading through the exhausted population. There were standpipes in the - well, call them 'streets' for now, where people queued with buckets and containers to collect precious water for the day.
Tifa tucked Marlene into her sleeping bag. Barret had left her in Midgar - he said he was off to look for resources that might prove useful in this now Mako-energy-wary world.
She sighed at the purring growl of a powerful motorbike. At night the 'streets' were sometimes filled with young guys roaring up and down incessantly. It seemed to be their only form of entertainment - because they were much too young to get into her pub, she knew.
The little bells sewn into the flaps of the marquee's entrance jingled and she came out from behind the curtained-off area that served as living quarters. "We're clo..." she stopped at the sight of the figure, lit only dimly by the sole lantern left burning low in the pub part of the tent. "Cloud?"
He nodded. "I'm... back," he stated the obvious.
"Where have you been?" Tifa hung back. She must have fallen asleep after putting Marlene to bed - because Cloud had been here before in her dreams, only to disappear come morning. His hair was blonder, sun-bleached, she noticed - and his eyes were still as bleak as ever. Are you ever going to be happy? she wondered.
"I... went to see Zack's Mom and Dad," he said, slowly. "I wanted to... talk to them."
"I see." She didn't. It had been just over two months since Meteor - since Cloud had vanished into thin air. "You hungry?" she asked.
He nodded, not smiling. Come to think of it, Tifa couldn't remember Cloud smiling much, even as a kid. "Yeah, I am," he said.
"Then shut the flap behind you and come have supper," she invited.
Cloud looked down at the framework he'd laid out on the ground and picked up the hammer. He wasn't much of a wood-butcher - but if he worked hard enough... he might exhaust himself enough to sleep without dreams. He hoped, anyway. Gongaga had been tough - earnestly explaining to two devastated parents how his best friend had died while escaping after five years of captivity as a lab rat. There had been a lot of tears and angry recriminations - Cloud recounted what had happened in Nibelheim, and its aftermath, and how Zack had decided it was best if they headed for Midgar when they escaped their confinement. Returning home had posed too much of a risk for Zack's family and friends, he told them. His best friend had said something about the town suffering enough already. Gongaga's Mako reactor had exploded and killed half the townsfolk, not long after he and Zack had been captured.
And so Cloud worked away steadily at his physical labour - eventually this wooden building would become Tifa's new Seventh Heaven, to replace the one destroyed when the Shinra Corporation dropped the Sector 7 plate onto the slum below. Thousands had died that day - above and below the city - just because AVALANCHE had been a burr under Shinra's skin. He hadn't heard much about Shinra lately - ex-employees were closing down any Mako reactors that were still operational, mindful of the danger of draining the Lifestream that had saved the world from Meteor.
"Hiya, Cloud!" Marlene called, cheerfully.
He narrowly missed his thumb, swallowed the swear-word that instinctively rose in his throat and turned round. "Hi, Marlene," he said.
"Tifa sent me with lunch," she told him. "'Cos she's busy."
"Thanks," he said, accepting the flask of water and the lunch-pail from her. He opened the flask and gratefully drank about a third of the cool water inside.
Marlene looked at him. "Good?" she asked.
He closed the flask and nodded. "Very good."
She continued to stare at him. "Are we really gonna have a real home?" she asked suddenly.
He looked around at the various piles of lumber. "Eventually," he shrugged. "It takes a while to build something all by yourself. Tifa's busy running the pub, after all - or there wouldn't be anything to build with," he pointed out, gently enough. Marlene was only six or seven, but whip smart. "But one day you will have a room of your own - I promise," he said.
She searched his face with her eyes, then nodded. "I've got to go back to Tifa now," she said, apparently satisfied.
Cloud watched her walk away. She was a surprisingly happy child - and he wanted to make sure she didn't have to suffer, after everything she'd had to endure during her short life so far. He put down the lunch-pail and flask and picked up the hammer again. The sooner all the frames were completed, the sooner they could be raised and covered over... and Tifa and Marlene wouldn't have to sleep in a curtained-off area in the back of the pub marquee. He owed Tifa his sanity, after all...
"Cloud's gone again, hasn't he?" Marlene gently slipped her hand into Tifa's.
Tifa looked down at the tracks behind the tent - where Cloud's bike was usually parked. "Yeah - he likes to have a little private time. He can't stay with us all the time, after all," she added.
"Why not?" Marlene wanted to know. "Where is he?"
Tifa didn't know the answer - to either of her questions. "He's a guy, Marlene," she injected a little humour into her voice. "You know how he doesn't even like sleeping in the same huge tent as us girls."
"Men!" Marlene's voice held good-humoured frustration.
"You said it," Tifa chuckled. "Come on - you can practice your letters while I sweep up, okay?"
Midgar and the slums beneath were reasonably deserted. Cloud parked his bike at the side of the ruined church as it grew dark, enjoying the silence. He'd been for a long ride, trying to clear his head - but it hadn't helped all that much. Not that he wasn't sleeping - but he preferred to sleep away from other people. His dreams were... disturbing at best, and he didn't want to scare Tifa or Marlene if he screamed aloud.
One corner of the church held his personal possessions - frankly, not much: a blanket and bedroll, a coffeepot and enamel mug and an oil lamp. The only other things he possessed were the bike and the swords in the sheath on his back. He'd had them custom-made in Gongaga while he was there - the many blades could slot together, or come apart with ease if he needed more than one at a time.
He sat down on the bedroll and rested his chin in his hands, staring unseeingly at the flowers. He slept here most nights, unwilling to let anyone else share his nightmares. Isolation... suited him. Being too close to people - it just opened you up to more pain, after all. He'd lost his best friend, wasn't able to save Aeris from Sephiroth... his hometown had been destroyed... All that was left from his past life was Tifa - and he didn't want to cling to her. He knew how weak he was - he'd handed Sephiroth the means to destroy the world, the Black Materia, because of his weakness. Okay, so he'd killed Sephiroth - twice; once in Nibelheim and once in the Northern Crater - but he knew for a fact that he wasn't any kind of hero. He picked up the coffeepot and went over to the pile of rubble in the corner where he had built a safe fire. He brewed a pot and drank some coffee, savouring the strong taste. Maybe this was another reason he had trouble sleeping, he grimaced. He put down the mug and drew his sword, slowly spinning it one-handed, becoming accustomed to the difference in weight and balance from Zack's old sword. Sometimes when he rode in the countryside outside the refugee camp - 'Edge City', they were starting to call it - he came in contact with monsters or bandits, and he needed to keep his skills fresh. It never occurred to him not to keep leaving the relative safety of Edge City - the place was too crowded and noisy for his peace of mind. But he owed Tifa, so he'd keep on working on the building that would become her new bar and home. This wasn't the first time he'd left Edge City for the countryside with little (read: no) warning - but Tifa seemed to understand that he needed time and space to himself. She'd even accepted his flimsy excuses for not sleeping in the bar tent at night - or seemed to, anyway. Sometimes he caught a look in her eyes that told him she knew him better than he knew himself - not exactly a good thing, he thought, ruefully.
He lay down on the blanket and covered himself over, placing his sword by his side - with his hand wrapped round the hilt. The ruined city seemed deserted - but he wasn't taking any chances.
The next day he was back at work on the various frameworks of Tifa's new place.
"Back again?" she murmured.
He didn't turn round. "I needed some time away from bashing my thumb to a pulp," he shrugged.
"Here."
"I already ate," he lied, shortly.
"It isn't food."
At her sharp tone, he turned round. "A phone?"
"It's a way of keeping in touch - even if all you do is listen to your messages," she said, drily. "Take it, Cloud. Marlene worries about you when you disappear - at least if you've got this, she might sleep better on your wandering nights."
He reluctantly took the phone from her. "Okay," he sighed. "But don't expect me to answer it while I'm riding my bike."
"Sure," Tifa nodded. "How are you getting on, Cloud?"
He slipped the phone into his back pocket and turned to look at the collection of braced frames. "I'll probably need someone to help put these things together," he said. "You're busy with the pub - and I can't hold them upright and nail them together at the same time," he added.
"That wasn't what I meant... but I get your point," she said, wryly. "I've got to go - the night shift and early breakfast crowd are due in soon. Later, Cloud. Oh - and you said that you'd to pick up more nails at the market this week."
"Yeah... Later, Tifa," he murmured. He'd known Tifa was really trying to ask him how he was - but he'd managed to dodge that particular bullet. Hell - he wasn't sure how he felt - barely a year ago he had still been stuck in a capsule under the Shinra Mansion in Nibelheim, being experimented on (basically tortured), hardly able to remember the life he'd had before he'd been subjected to the treatments. Only talking to Zack (when they were able to talk) had kept both of them alive - and relatively grounded. There was a life outside the capsules - that's what they had reminded each other, talking of everything and nothing just to remain sane.
He got onto his bike and headed for the market area. The place was crowded and noisy - and he positively hated it. He was a small-town guy in the middle of a mass of humanity, not his favourite place. He quickly made his purchase and got ready to bolt, getting onto his bike with practiced ease.
"Thief! Come back here!"
At the blur of movement beside him, Cloud instinctively held his arm out, parallel to the ground. The little kid who hit it - probably no more than a year or two older than Marlene - bounced off and fell back onto the street, scattering various fruits and vegetables as he landed hard.
"Good - someone's finally caught him!" someone came rushing up. "Pay!" he demanded of the child.
The boy mumbled something indistinct, turning red.
"What about that ring round your neck? - It's bound to be worth a few gil," the stallholder growled.
Cloud was mortified - and worried that the kid was hurt, landing as hard as he had. He dug into his pocket. "Here," he said, putting a generous sum of gil into the man's hand. He guessed that the ring was a memento of a parent the kid didn't have any more - why else would the undersized boy be stealing food? "Now - get lost," he added, roughly.
The boy looked at him curiously as the stallholder left. "Why'd you do that, mister?" he asked.
"You..." He'd been going to say 'hungry', but that was obvious. "You want to come have breakfast with me?" he asked, carefully. "To say 'sorry' for hurting you like that."
The boy stopped picking up the fruit and vegetables. "What?" he asked, confused. He eyed Cloud suspiciously. "I've got breakfast here."
"I know someone who's a great cook," Cloud said, truthfully. The kid reminded him a little of another undersized runt - one who'd tagged along behind Tifa and her friends back in Nibelheim, just as prickly and stubborn as this one seemed to be. "You can ride on the back, if you want," he added.
The boy looked at Cloud again - and took in the bike too. "I can't go with you, mister - I don't know you." There was an audible growling noise.
Proud, too, Cloud thought, ruefully. "My name's Cloud - and it isn't that far to my friend's place," he said, bending down to pick up the apple resting against his boot. He put it into the pouch the boy had made of his top. "I'm harmless," he added.
The kid's eyes widened as he got a good look at Cloud's sword, sticking out on either side of the sheath on his back, then he stared into Cloud's eyes.
You aren't gonna find anything in there, kid, Cloud thought. He'd seen his eyes when he shaved that morning - and still couldn't meet them for long.
"I'm Denzel, Mister Cloud," the boy said, suddenly.
"Just 'Cloud'," he insisted. "You want to share my breakfast, then?"
"Um... okay. Wait a second." Denzel pulled off his top and tied his spoils into it, then half-leapt, half climbed onto the back of the bike, behind Cloud.
"Hold on to me - but watch the sword. It's sharp," Cloud said, softly. "You okay, Denzel?"
"Um... Yeah," Denzel murmured, faintly. Cloud could feel pressure on his waist as the boy grabbed hold of his belt with both hands.
"Okay, then. I won't go too fast." Cloud kicked the bike into action and set off slowly, riding carefully to the spot where he usually parked, behind the temporary Seventh Heaven. "You alright?"
"Where... are we?" Denzel asked, nervously.
"In back of my friend's place. She cooks a pretty good breakfast," Cloud said. He half-turned and lifted Denzel off the bike. The kid was skin and bones under his clothes, he realised with some shock. "How long you been on your own?" he asked.
"Since... the Meteor," Denzel tried a careless shrug - but he unconsciously touched the ring around his neck and clutched the bundle of food like a lifebelt.
There were a lot of street kids nowadays - Cloud had noticed them sometimes in the early morning or late evening as he either returned to or escaped from Edge City. "This way," he said, leading the way to the front of the tent.
The place was quietening down - only one or two of the makeshift tables were occupied. Tifa looked up in surprise as he walked in - then her eyes widened as she saw his hand on Denzel's shoulder, directing him towards a seat at one of the empty tables. He held up his free hand, politely showing two fingers. She nodded and disappeared behind the curtain.
Marlene came out a few minutes later and wandered over. "Hiya, Cloud - who's your friend?" she asked.
"This is Denzel," Cloud said. "Denzel - this is Marlene. Her dad's out of town a lot, so she stays here with Tifa."
Denzel was finding it hard to concentrate, because the smells were making his stomach rumble hard. "Um... hi," he said, a little shyly.
"I thought you ate earlier," Marlene turned to Cloud. "Tifa said."
"I've been working hard - so I'm hungry again," he said easily.
Tifa came over at that point with two filled plates and some cutlery. "Here you go - two breakfast specials," she said, looking at Cloud with some interest.
He lowered his eyes to avoid her scrutiny, hoping like hell that he wasn't turning red - one drawback of his fair complexion being that he blushed far too easily sometimes. "Thanks, Tifa. Eat up, Denzel," he said.
"Thanks, ma'am," Denzel remembered his manners, trying not to drool.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please - I'm Tifa," she said. "Enjoy your breakfast... Denzel, was it?"
He nodded, his mouth already full.
"Cloud - you can eat in the kitchen. I need your help. Marlene - you'll keep Denzel company, right?" she smiled.
"Sure, Tifa. So - where do you stay, Denzel?" Marlene sat down next to the boy and began to chatter away.
Cloud swallowed a sigh (and a curse), picked up his plate and got to his feet. "Try not to choke yourself," he warned. "And don't go anywhere 'til I come back, okay?"
Denzel looked up, swallowed, then nodded. "Okay, Mi... Cloud," he said.
"What's going on here, Cloud?" Tifa hissed as the curtain fell behind them.
Cloud picked at the food on his plate and explained how he'd come to meet the boy, refusing to look up at her.
"Why?" Tifa sounded amused.
"If it hadn't been for me, he'd have got away," Cloud shrugged, embarrassed as hell. "The kid's starving, Tifa," he added. "When I lifted him off my bike, I... My sword weighs more than he does." He wasn't exaggerating by much.
"So... you've given him a hot breakfast. And?" she prompted.
"He can... count nails for me or something - I don't know." Another shrug. "I'll pay for his food, Tifa. There are too many orphans... including us," he added, looking at her for the first time.
"If he wants to stay, he can," she said, softly. "But don't force him, Cloud. Maybe... maybe Denzel likes being independent. He might feel he doesn't need anyone to help him out."
Cloud got the distinct (and uncomfortable) feeling that she wasn't talking about Denzel at all. "Okay," he said. "I'll talk to him. And I won't make him do anything he doesn't want to do. Fine?"
She nodded, then held out her hand for his empty plate. "For someone who's already eaten breakfast, you cleaned that up pretty good," she said pointedly, not even bothering to hide her grin.
He handed over the plate wordlessly and stalked out of the kitchen area with her soft chuckle following him.
Cloud went back to his bike and opened the front panniers. He took out the bags of nails he'd bought earlier and turned round. Both Marlene and Denzel were right behind him - the pair had hit it off well. Neither he nor Tifa had realised how much Barret's (foster-) daughter craved company her own age. For most of her young life she'd been surrounded by grown-ups, and Edge City hadn't got round to organising any formal schooling yet. Tifa did her best, but Marlene needed kid friends, not just adults who loved her.
He held up one bag. "These are the nails I'll need to use on the shingles - and I need them put in bundles of twenty... that's if you two don't mind," he added, slowly.
"We'll be helping to make Tifa's new Seventh Heaven, then," Marlene smiled widely. "That'll be so cool - right, Denzel?"
"What happened to the old one?" Denzel asked, curiously.
"It's in the city," Marlene shrugged. "It got... broke."
Along with the rest of the Sector 7 slum, Cloud thought, darkly. "Okay, so if the two of you sit in the pub and fix these nails for me, that'll be a big help," he said. It was make-work, to keep the pair occupied - along with an impromptu arithmetic lesson as they kept count. He carried the bag into the pub and set it down on one of the tables. The two children climbed onto chairs and began to pull out handfuls of nails, chattering and laughing as they worked.
Tifa and Cloud exchanged a look and a shrug, before he turned on his heel and went back to work.
Two months later found Cloud carefully balancing on the roof joists, laying down planks in what would eventually be the attic.
"What up, Spiky?"
Only one person in the world called him that - even if he hadn't recognised the voice: Barret Wallace. Cloud peered down between the joists. "I am," he said, on a grunt.
"Place still looks pretty naked," Barret commented.
"There's wood, nails and a spare hammer over there - help yourself," Cloud indicated. "I can't do it all at once."
"Maybe if you quit pullin' your disappearing acts, Marlene would be sleeping in a real bed by now," Barret shouted up.
"And maybe if her dad helped out instead of flapping his gums, she could be doin' the same," Cloud growled. So I've just come back after three days of being AWOL - so what? Barret's one to talk, after all. This was the first time he'd seen the big black man since he'd come to Edge City, after all.
"I've been surveying," Barret said, between blows with his metal fist. "What about you?"
"Needed some fresh air," Cloud shrugged. After Denzel fell asleep in the tent at night, Cloud headed for the old church to sleep. Or to brood, he acknowledged, wryly. Sometimes sleep proved... elusive.
Barret refrained from commenting - for a change. He worked as steadily as the younger man, placing each piece of cladding tightly together next to its neighbour to make sure that there would be few (hopefully no) draughts. Cloud continued his work on the top floor. To tell the truth, it wouldn't be much longer before all the exterior work was done - the roof was shingled, the top of the house was all covered over and the windows in... floors and interior walls were pretty necessary, though - and they were missing. Maybe if he hadn't kept leaving...? Cloud shook his head abruptly. He wasn't gonna stick Tifa and the kids with his problems - it wasn't fair on them.
"Nice bike, though," Barret called up. "Got any more like it?"
"Finder's keepers," Cloud told him. "You want one, you find it."
"Spiky by name, spiky by nature," Barret laughed.
Cloud gritted his teeth and reminded himself that Marlene loved this big lunk. That was the only reason he kept the hammer in his hand and didn't 'drop' it on the loudmouth below him. "How long you been here?" he asked.
"Got in yesterday morning. I've got a lead on an old coalfield, so I'll be off again in a couple days," Barret replied.
"I might as well get some use out of you, then," Cloud noted. "Marlene's gonna miss you, though." The implication being that no-one else would.
Barret glared at him: he wasn't stupid. "You know she's gonna start asking all those awkward questions soon," he said, softly. "Like how come her daddy ain't the same colour she is."
"You brought her up, Barret," Cloud shrugged. "Being a parent doesn't always have to mean you made the baby."
"She's got real attached to your Denzel," Barret added. "Nice kid."
Cloud bit back his automatic denial of 'your' - he didn't want Denzel to feel unwanted. "He's a good kid," he nodded. "Smart - and not as lonely as he was. Still misses his Mom, though."
"All orphans do - even the grown-up ones," Barret grunted. "Bein' a parent is scarier than fighting monsters."
Cloud acknowledged this silently. Not that he was trying to be a parent, he amended, hurriedly - but Denzel sometimes treated him as if he'd hung the moon, and was always seeking reassurance from him. Me? I'm no example for anyone, he thought, wildly. "Hunh?" he murmured, realising he'd missed something Barret had said.
"I said how fast does your bike go? Like... to Kalm, or somethin', I mean?"
"Been a while since I went to another town," Cloud said. "Half an hour or less to Kalm, though. I usually go... camping."
Another period of blessed silence, punctuated by hammer blows.
"Tifa says you went to Gongaga."
"By boat from Junon Harbour - my bike can't float," Cloud's tone of voice was plain: don't go there, man.
Barret heard the warning note - more surprisingly, he heeded it. "So... throw up much?" he asked.
"Enough." Another touchy subject - he was fine on the bike, but boats were not his favourite mode of transport.
"You wanna come down and help me fit these windows, Cloud?" he called up, after a while.
Cloud slid down on his safety line and undid the carabiner. "Sure. You break 'em, you pay for 'em, though."
Tifa rolled up the last piece of canvas and tied it with the rope, looking around her with some satisfaction. Behind her, Cloud was manhandling an empty beer barrel with a name carved on it onto the porch: Seventh Heaven. Denzel and Marlene were sitting on the steps leading up to the porch, grinning like lunatics. Tifa had served her last drink and last meal in the tent - tomorrow morning, the new Seventh Heaven would be open for business. She picked up the roll of canvas and hugged it tightly. "Okay - let's go home," she said.
With squeals of delight, Marlene and Denzel charged into the pub. As she and Cloud followed them in, she heard them clattering up the stairs to the bedrooms.
"Thanks," she said, turning to smile gratefully at Cloud.
"For what?" he seemed genuinely puzzled.
"I wouldn't have this without all your hard work," she told him. "I'd been in that tent for two months before you came back, after all."
He looked uncomfortable. "Everyone else pitched in when they came to visit you," he pointed out. "Barret, Cid, Yuffie - even Vincent and Nanaki gave me a hand, that night they dropped by. Reeve's the one who arranged the utilities. And... it's not as if I did it in a hurry, or anything." He'd worked on the place on and off for more than five months by now - it could probably have been finished at least six weeks ago if he hadn't left town.
"Your 'wanderings', you mean?" she murmured. "I won't lie and say they didn't - don't - bother me, Cloud - but you've had a lot to deal with since... well, since Nibelheim," she realised. She was only beginning to understand that thanks to Cloud and Master Zangan, her martial arts teacher, she'd been spared the harsh consequences of Shinra covering up the Nibelheim 'incident'. Cloud and Zack had spent five years as a cross between prisoners and lab rats, while she'd been living in Midgar, learning how to run a pub and become a terrorist. Even now, she had no clear idea of what the pair had suffered, though she'd read some of the reports that had been left under the Shinra Mansion in Nibelheim.
He shrugged. "Now I have to find something else to do," he said.
No wonder there's so much darkness behind your eyes, she thought. "Well, make sure it's doing something for someone who doesn't mind you haring off on that oversized bike of yours when the mood strikes you," she teased.
The expression on his face told her he was taking her joke seriously, but he only shrugged again. "We'd better go see what Denzel and Marlene are up to," he said, softly.
"Getting ready for bed, I hope," she smiled.
Once the two overexcited children had finally fallen asleep, exhausted, in their separate rooms, Tifa turned to Cloud.
"Okay - so there are two other bedrooms... but I only see a bed in one of them," she pointed out. "A single."
"As you say, I tend to wander off," Cloud said. "Not worth putting an extra bed in the other room for me, is there?"
"There are walls and doors now, Cloud - not just a flimsy curtain," she said. "Surely you can live here with us?"
"I sometimes like to take my bike out for a spin at night," he said, easily. "Waking the kids would mean you'd shout at me."
She took a deep breath and inwardly counted to ten. "I'm not too far off that right now," she told him, bluntly.
"Which is my cue for a night-time ride," he turned on his heel and headed downstairs.
She followed him, cursing under her breath. "Cloud!" she hissed. "Talk to me, dammit!"
"I need to... think about what to do next," he said, then closed the door gently behind him.
She growled as she heard the bike engine start up and went back upstairs to the largest bedroom. On the windowsill was a vase of fresh flowers - flowers she recognised only too well. "How long has he been going there?" she wondered, gently touching one soft petal. "Is he still looking for you?"
When Cloud returned to Seventh Heaven the following morning, Denzel and Marlene were sitting together at one of the tables, copying out their letters from a battered old textbook. The early meal crowd had all left for either work or home by now, and the pub was quiet and peaceful.
"How are lessons going?" he asked.
"Cloud!" Denzel smiled. "You left really early."
"I was thinking about work," he shrugged, joining them at the table. "Like... a job for me."
"You gonna fight for money again?" Marlene asked.
That had been Zack's idea - with all the training he'd gone through to become a SOLDIER First Class, he'd decided that when they got to Midgar, the logical thing to do would be to hire themselves out as mercenaries... if Cloud ever got better, of course. When he'd finally reached Midgar alone, suffering from Mako poisoning and half out of his head from all the experiments, Cloud's mixed-up mind had assimilated Zack's idea and he'd hired himself out to AVALANCHE. He shook his head. "I was thinking that... maybe I could use my bike to deliver stuff from one town to another," he said. "There still isn't much contact between the different towns..."
Tifa was noisily washing (and probably breaking) dishes behind the bar, pointedly letting him know that she was still angry with him.
"You'll need to let people know about you, though," Denzel said. "You need a poster with your phone number on it."
"Use the number here," Cloud said, quickly. "My phone's... private."
"Yeah - you'd have to talk to people," Tifa stage-whispered. "Am I supposed to be your secretary now, Cloud?"
"You've got four walls and a roof," he said, mildly. "A permanent address, even."
"How about lots of little posters?" Marlene suggested. "Like the size of this page? Instead of one big poster, I mean."
"Flyers, you mean?" Cloud looked interested. "Back in Midgar, they used to put up different flyers all over the place - lamp-posts, windows... sometimes even on top of each other, too."
Denzel turned to a fresh page in his jotter. "So... 'Cloud's Bike Delivering Jobs'," he said, writing.
"You need something short," Marlene told him. "Like - 'Cloud Delivers Stuff'."
"Why not call it 'Strife Delivery Service'?" Tifa suggested. "By name and nature."
Cloud winced. Oh, yeah - she's still mad at me, he thought. But I'm not about to dump all my problems on your doorstep again, Tifa Lockheart. "Sounds good," he said, neutrally. "Apart from the 'name and nature' bit."
Pages were turned in two jotters, and the children got to work, designing a flyer for 'Strife Delivery Service'.
Cloud walked over to the bar. Tifa glared at him.
"You did say to find something that suits my... 'wandering'," he told her, softly.
"You don't actually need a job, Cloud," she growled. "The bar's right here."
"You want me to work in the bar and mooch from you until I drop dead?" he said, surprised. "Credit me with some male pride, Tifa."
"It doesn't matter how far or fast you go on that bike, Cloud - you can't escape the inside of your own head," she told him, brusquely.
His eyes met hers, shocked. "Look... let's pretend I'm five years younger than my actual age," he said. "Because... there are five years of my life where my whole world was a glass tube," he added, harshly. "Sometimes watching a spider crawling across the floor was the high point of our year, Tifa. Give me... time, okay?"
"I'm trying to understand, Cloud - so help me, but it's hard," she sighed, suddenly tired. "When you finally run out of excuses, expect a good hard slap," she added. "Maybe that will bring you to your senses."
"Do you think I'm doing this just to make you mad?" he asked, suddenly. "It's not exactly fun for me either, you know," he added, glancing behind him to the two heads bent industriously over their books. The two of them were conducting their argument in whispers, not wanting to disturb their two orphans - and somewhere along the line, Marlene and Denzel had become theirs, although Cloud would probably try to deny it at gunpoint.
Marlene looked up and smiled at him. "You want to see, Cloud?"
He nodded. "Sure," he said, shrugging at Tifa and walking back to the table. He sat down and explained about the flyers needing to be printed, so any design had to be simple - because simple meant cheap. Less money spent telling people about his new business meant he'd have more money to spend on other things, he told them.
"They're a little young for a lecture on economics," Tifa's voice positively dripped sarcasm.
Cloud just replied with one of his practically patented shrugs.
The spare bedroom that had the phone installed in it eventually found itself elevated to the status of 'office'. Cloud had picked up a simple hand press and had someone transfer Denzel and Marlene's joint final design onto a stone tile. A pile of paper in one corner of the room was testament to the fact that the hand press was still a fun toy to play with in odd moments, even one year on. Tifa sighed as she answered the ringing phone. "Strife Delivery Service - you name it, we deliver it," she said cheerfully, picking up the pen on the desk to take notes. "Sure... And that would be...? We'll be in touch soon." She hoped that wasn't a lie. Cloud rarely answered his phone - she was convinced that he had it set to go straight through to voicemail. She pushed a button on the receiver and then pressed '1' to automatically dial Cloud's number. One ring, and then the recorded message - she was long past wanting to strangle the owner of the electronic voice. At the beep, she left the message and hung up. Cloud had been acting kind of weird for the past couple weeks - he'd been listening to all the rumours floating around Edge City, and worried about all of them - as usual. He was a born worrier, while she just shrugged them off. For the last few months the main one had been the story about a virus spreading through some of the other sectors of Edge City... something only kids could get, apparently. Edge City seemed to thrive on gossip and rumour - she'd even heard that Turks had been spotted in one of the other sectors. It was always one of the other sectors, of course. Since nothing had been heard of the Shinra Corporation since Meteor, that had probably just been people wearing their old clothes and being mistaken for Turks, she mused.
A clatter from below heralded the return of the children from school. She smiled and headed downstairs to welcome them back home.
Cloud got out his phone and listened to his messages. Barret was on the hunt for oil this time, apparently; Yuffie wanted to know if he'd heard anything about some kind of weird disease that turned kids' skin black...
Cloud shifted uneasily and adjusted the sole long (loose) sleeve which had been carefully sewn onto his formerly sleeveless top by hand. By himself. "It's only supposed to be kids..." he murmured, continuing to listen.
Ah - Tifa with a job that should keep him away from Edge City for another couple days, he realised with some relief.
Beep.
Tifa, again... sounding frantic? He listened to the message, suddenly feeling his heart pounding wildly in his head, then snapped the phone shut and put it in his back pocket. His hands were shaking so badly it took him two tries.
"No..." he groaned, turning the bike and revving it so hard it did a wheelie. He had to get back... it couldn't be true.
Tifa and Cloud sat on chairs side by side in the doctor's office. Out in the waiting room, they could hear Marlene and Denzel reading an old magazine article to each other.
"You're Denzel's parents?" the doctor asked.
"His guardians," Cloud said, firmly. Tifa had insisted that he left his sword in the bike, parked (erratically) behind Seventh Heaven. He'd left it behind the bar instead. She was glad he wasn't armed, right now - Cloud looked angry enough to turn the doctor into mince.
"Well... Denzel seems to have developed this new disease that we're calling 'geostigma'," she said. "It isn't contagious... and we don't have any idea why some children seem to develop it, but not others. It doesn't seem to be environmental, or hereditary, or have any underlying cause at all..."
"What do we do?" Cloud asked through gritted teeth.
Maybe even into smaller pieces than mince, Tifa conceded, wryly.
"We've only started seeing these geostigma cases over the past three months," the doctor sounded apologetic - and harried. "We're doing our best -" she looked down - "Mr Strife... But so far, we can't come up with a cure. We don't even know the cause." She looked pretty frustrated about it.
"Do you have any advice on how to deal with... this?" Tifa faltered.
"He's an otherwise healthy child... Ms Lockheart," another quick glance down at the notes. "If he complains of muscle weakness or headaches, let him rest."
"You call that advice?" Cloud growled. "You're a damned doctor!"
She looked at him, then took off her glasses and massaged the bridge of her nose wearily. "Mr Strife - I have three children at home myself," she said, candidly. "Not one of them related to me by blood, I might add. Two of them have developed this... condition in the past month. I'm giving you the advice of a surrogate mother, not the doctor who can't even cure her own children."
Tifa gently touched Cloud's arm. He flinched. "We... understand, doctor," she said, softly. "We don't want to understand, but we do. Right, Cloud?"
He nodded jerkily, shifting away from her a little. "Sorry," he muttered.
"Apology accepted," she smiled wanly. "Denzel might have episodes where he complains of headaches or muscle pain, or feels inexplicably weak or tired - all I can tell you is to let him rest when these happen."
"Do many adults have this?" Cloud asked suddenly.
"Most of the cases of geostigma I've seen are in children under the age of fourteen - though even I've heard rumours of some adults with the condition... But I'm fairly sure the rumours are untrue in this case," she added with a gentle - almost sad - smile.
"Why would you say that?" Tifa was curious.
"Because my colleagues all over the world are reporting that this is a disease of the young, Miss Lockheart," she said, seriously. "No-one has yet reported the case of an adult suffering from geostigma - this is a disease affecting our children... which makes it all the more imperative that a solution is found," she added, softly. "Our children grow progressively weaker... and there is no cure..."
Cloud got to his feet. "We'd better go," he said, abruptly. "Thanks," he added, almost as an afterthought.
Tifa followed him to the door.
"Do you know why it's called geostigma?" the doctor murmured.
They turned back to look at her.
"The first child brought in with the condition - her mother was convinced that Midgar's refugees were being punished by the planet for abusing the power of the Lifestream," she said, almost as if talking to herself. "Because of that, the doctor named the disease geo-stigma - the Brand of the Planet."
They closed the door quietly on what sounded suspiciously like a choked-off sob, and took Denzel and Marlene back to Seventh Heaven, walking through the streets of Edge City.
Tifa noticed the odd lost-looking child sitting in alleyways, or on street corners, with a simple white bandage around an arm or an eye - and in one case, wrapped around a young girl's neck. "So many..." she murmured, still in shock.
When they got back, Denzel and Marlene went up to their rooms to do homework.
"Is the doctor right... is the planet still mad with us?" Tifa asked in a low voice.
Cloud shook his head firmly. "Don't be stupid - she wouldn't have saved the world and then let kids d... get hurt," he snapped. The word 'die' was anathema to him - because he'd seen too much death.
Tifa looked at him warily. The minute they'd come inside, Cloud had headed for the bar and slid his big sword into the sheath on his back. He looked ready to chew nails and spit out tacks. "Don't scare them, Cloud," she cautioned, reaching one hand out to him. "We've got to try and handle this together."
"I'm late for that pickup in Costa del Sol," he said, turning away from her outstretched arm. "I'll... I've got to go."
She looked at the door after he'd left, the motorcycle's tyres screeching as he'd raced off. 'She' wouldn't have saved the world, he'd said. "If you're listening... please help us," she murmured. "I don't think Cloud can handle it if... well, you know," she finished, lamely. It seemed that she was as reluctant as Cloud to acknowledge the fact that if there was no cure found for this disease, Denzel would die - probably slowly and in agony.
Cloud visited the ruined church before heading for Costa del Sol. He lifted up the loose sleeve covering his left arm and inspected the fresh bandage covering the dark bloom which was staining his fair skin - it was even beginning to spread beyond the edge of the bandage, he noted without expression. "The doctor said it's only kids... not adults," he said, then kicked one of the carved stone columns in his impotent rage and frustration. "And there's no cure, either... It doesn't matter about me - but Denzel... He's just a kid..." His voice was low and savage - and seemed to be coming over broken glass.
He spun on his heel and got back on his bike. Tifa didn't need to know about... this, on top of worrying about Denzel. He roared off, but Tifa had been right about something - however far he travelled, however fast, he couldn't outrun his thoughts.
-THE END-
MoogleYuna
23rd May 2006
Well - hope it gets to stay.
Just a little warning. This page is where ME, the Moogle, will post MY fanfic - if I'm allowed to.
Got your own fanfic? - Start your own page (suggestion).
And like I said, it's fanfic. Constructive criticism allowed.
Flaming will be used to make toast.
And flaming will make the Moogle unhappy - you do not wish to do that.