Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a little chilly in the slums this morning by Tifa's reckoning, even if it was early October. She was glad she had purchased the heavy red sweater she had covering her chest, the denim of her jeans also doing their part to keep her warm. Her feet plodded through the trash-strewn road of Sector Seven's slums, occasionally hitting pavement that hadn't been covered by accumulating dirt from the windstorms of the Midgar Wastes. It was an almost eternal twilight down here, the yellow and blue lights hanging from above the brightest source of illumination that cast dangerous shadows when she passed an alley. The thin white lights of the main pillar and plates shined far away and above, like dingy stars on a rust colored sky.

She hadn't seen the real sky in all its glory in five years.

It was permanently blocked out by the giant metal plates above her. Even when Tifa had ventured near the edge of a slum, there it was, hiding most of the firmament. Not that she could have seen the stars at night, of course; the greenish smog that came out of the reactor base billowed up and clouded the view. It would pool about the ground after a while, but there was always more to cloud the air surrounding the pillars.

Of course the toxic exhaust was funneled down into the slums and not allowed to pour out upon the plate like a fog of madness and mutation. People paid good money to live up there and chance the sun or even a star or two on a very clear night at the edge of the plate. So, the waste gas was mostly pumped down into the slums, or so Tifa had been told by residents. She believed it, because this was Shinra and they cared very little about human life a continent over, let alone under their shadow.

Tifa had heard of people growing deranged if they were exposed to too much of it, and rumors of even worse effects if one had the misfortune of either falling into a puddle of runoff or having it spill down on a victim. Citizens gave the reactor bases a wide berth because of the risks involved, let alone the strange sentinels that could be seen patrolling the grounds. Their twitchy movements had given her nightmares the first time she laid eyes on them, and she was glad they never strayed beyond the fence enclosure.

They looked so human, but not.

She crunched through a small mound of paper refuse, towards the train station and back to Seventh Heaven. Her checkup at the clinic had been like the last, nothing unusual to report. Her scar still tingled or hurt from time to time, but the doctor said that wasn't out of the ordinary considering the depth of the injury, even five years later. Tifa made a follow up appointment and was reminded that Marlene was supposed to visit in two weeks.

But her mind was elsewhere. Barret had been talking more and more about getting revenge on Shinra, and while she was slow to warm on the idea(take down the de facto world power?), it opened old wounds for her. Maybe they couldn't take down Shinra, but they could make them hurt. They could give them scars, too. It was true that the reactors were sucking up the lifeblood of the Planet, and perhaps if they could knock out a few it would inspire others around the world to take up arms.

Tifa knew it was a longshot, but it could lead to a better world. Wouldn't it? If they did nothing the world would die regardless. Marlene would have nothing. But if they died in this fight, Marlene would have nothing anyway. An orphan that became an orphan once more, because she and Barret got themselves killed or worse in a fight for the Planet. Because that's what it was, a fight to keep the Planet alive.

She let out an anxious sigh. They needed more than just Jessie, Biggs and Wedge, if they even decided to entertain the idea. They lived in the area underneath Seventh Heaven with Barret, Marlene and her; they were in a similar boat as them because of Shinra, and how could Tifa and Barret not feel pity for them? The slums weren't safe, but there was safety in numbers.

Jessie had come from Sector Two's slums after falling out with a Turk-influenced mob boss. She came to the bar looking battered and ordered a whiskey with her last bit of gil. Tifa remembered Jessie saying it was her way of celebrating her new life in a new slum, and the young bartender asked what her new life was. "I don't know" was the hesitant, whispered answer. Tifa had taken her in after the bar closed. Jessie knew her way around computers and gadgets, and paid her way through repair work, either within the bar or by being hired by slum residents.

It hadn't been without hiccups in the first few months, of course. Jessie would hide herself away downstairs if she saw a too familiar face prowling the slums or entering the bar, knowing they were looking for her. They would sometimes go up to Tifa and ask about the brunette that had been seen at the counter, and she would give a fake name and her harshest booze just to keep them from visiting again. Eventually they stopped coming, either deciding Jessie was not there or not worth the trouble.

It wasn't as if she stole anything too important.

Biggs was more of a mystery. He had never spoken much about where he came from or what he had done before joining the bar, and that had been a point of contention between him and Barret. Barret didn't, and still did not like mysterious people that just appeared out of the blue. After his third time in the bar, Tifa and Jessie coaxed something out of him, and it was enough: Something happened to his mother and sister, and it involved Shinra. They let him stay as a bouncer.

Wedge had the effect of lightening the mood when he finally made it to Seventh Heaven. For someone who grew up in these slums he came off as rather idealistic and cheerful. He claimed his family lived in a sector close by and he was just looking for work, but Tifa could tell he was looking for friends. He had a loneliness in his eyes that must have matched hers when she awoke to the sterile looking clinic she had been taken to five years ago.

It turned out he was the last of his family after a purge in the slums beneath Sector Eight destroyed his neighborhood. He survived because he went out to buy a few snacks at a shop. Wedge migrated to Sector Seven's slums, never wanting to set foot in that slice of Midgar's shadow again. How he stayed so cheerful, Tifa never knew. Maybe it really was her cooking, as he claimed.

The smell of coal exhaust became stronger as she approached the train station. A train was slowly beginning its trek back towards the central pillar and up towards the plate above, where some slum residents worked in shops or hustled crafts for extra gil. Tifa made a passing glance at the departing train, then down at the pavement below the train platform.

The train attendant was hovering over some wretch leaning on the platform wall as a dog barked at them both.

That wasn't anything particularly unsual in the slums. Drunks or the very ill or disabled crawled about the place. If they were lucky, they weren't eaten by monsters or used by criminals for whatever nefarious reason. But what caught her eye and made her tense was the gigantic sword by that man's side; she could have sworn she had seen that sword a long time ago.

Tifa paused to watch, fidgeting on her feet in case she had to move quickly. She was only fifteen feet away, and what if that man suddenly leapt up and began to attack in a fit of psychosis? She had seen it before, and it almost always ended with death or deformity to the fool who thought to be kind. The train attendant seemed nonplussed, and put a hand on the slovenly wretch's metal pauldron.

"Poor guy. Hey, did you have a place you were trying to get to?"

The wretch drooled as his mouth opened to respond. He let out a low groan.

Tifa studied the stranger some more, the sickly yellow glow of a street lamp helping her see him in more detail than the twilight would have provided. His hair was matted with what she hoped was mud, and it looked like his clothes were much the same. She frowned; a few blond tufts poked out from the crusty dirt. Coming a little closer while still on alert, she noticed he was wearing a Soldier uniform.

This was one of Shinra's elite goons.

She didn't know everything there was to know about Soldier, except that they were superhumans created by some secret process. Soldier was created to serve as the elite fighting force of Shinra against all enemies; even if this mumbling druggard wasn't aware of it, they were on opposite ends of an unofficial war. The hatred she felt five years ago had never faded, it was only placed on the back burner of her life.

She went to leave again, but that sword bothered her, and she turned to stare at it. Did other Soldiers have it, or only Zack? She had only met two, he and that madman Sephiroth. She never knew what happened to Zack, and despite her feelings towards Shinra he hadn't seemed like a bad person. If he had survived, she wondered if he had quit the military after the Incident. She couldn't remember much after Sephiroth cut her down.

Tifa bit her lip and chewed on it as the collapsed Soldier twitched a leg after the train attendant shook his shoulder gently. She felt that she needed to know who he was, why he had that particular sword. He hadn't tried to kill the fellow manhandling him, so she supposed she could get close enough to study the sword.

Tifa inched a little closer, towards the giant sword while still giving the stranger a wide berth. The wretch would twitch or seize up, or groan and grunt, but never made a move to attack. She was reminded of one of Jessie's computers as it crashed and rebooted in a loop, trying to get some foothold on the system it existed within. His head was down but she made out his sharp nose and the glimmer of an azure glow from his half open eyes.

"Friend of yours?" the attendant asked hopefully.

She shook her head. "I...don't know." Tifa bent down slowly, always watching for the stranger to still and tense, but he continued his gurgled grunts into his lap. He ignored her, the attendant, the yapping dog. Nothing seemed to matter to him.

"Se...—oth. Re...un...on." The voice sounded harsh, as if he hadn't spoken in a very long time. "Urk."

Her fingers very gingerly traced the sword's edge, and her eyes studied the rust and filth spackled metal while occasionally watching the owner. This was not Zack, but this had to be his sword, unless it was standard issue for Soldiers. Her hand withdrew from the weapon, and she looked at the Soldier again.

She couldn't see much, with his matted hair covering most of his face as he stared into his lap. He shuddered an inhale, held it in, then leaked out an exhale. Tifa felt she should hate him, for everything he could and probably had done, but he was terribly pathetic at the moment. She bent her head down cautiously to get a better look at his face.

He looked vaguely familiar.

Despite the filth she could make out angled features and the eyes...They seemed to look through her, studying her back despite him obviously not being at all there. She shivered; mako eyes were terribly inhuman. Tifa dared to touch his sunken in cheek, and watched as those eyes widened and immediately became even more alien than they had been a moment ago. Then it was gone in a flash.

"What..." he scratched out. He groaned again, and squeezed his eyes shut to Tifa's relief. "I...Where..." His voice had steadied from last he mumbled.

She blinked in rapid succession; that was a deep and rough voice with the slightest of accents from the other continent, not dissimilar to her own despite attempts at hiding it completely under the Midgar dialect. Tifa looked back up and touched a tuft of filthy hair. God, she hoped that was just mud. He smelled horrible. She took note that where the hair wasn't matted, it came together into clumps that formed disheaveled spikes. There was only one person she knew with hair like that.

She suddenly remembered the promise under the stars, on the well in the middle of the village. The boy who said he would join Soldier. The neighbor that barely talked and always fought the other kids, but never approached her but that once. The one who she caught watching her as she played the piano in her room. Could it really be him?

"Cloud? Is that...you?"

Tifa yanked her hand away and took a few steps back as the Soldier shook his head like a wet dog. The attendant also backed away, in case the stranger was growing violent. The Soldier looked around, as if taking in the world for the very first time, then looked up at Tifa with those freakishly blue eyes. Something akin to a smile appeared on his face, and she winced.

"That's right, I'm Cloud!" he exclaimed with a nod. He slowly stood up and stretched his back, pops and crunches eminating from his spine. Cloud put his hands on his hips with a cocky posture. It reminded her of Zack more than the Cloud she remembered. It had been a very long time, she thought, so perhaps he had changed a bit during his employment with Shinra.

The thought put a damper on this strange reunion with her old neighbor. Did he know what happened? Before she could respond he looked her up and down, then tilted his head to the side. "Tifa?" He straightened his neck, and a look of relief crossed his filthy face. "Tifa! It's you!"

The train attendant looked between them, nodded, and walked away.

Her hand came up to her slightly parted mouth; he remembered her. He sounded absolutely ecstatic to see her, too. "Y-yeah...It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Five years."

Confusion and unease pooled in her stomach. It had been seven years, not five. "Actually—"

"I thought you were a goner," he interrupted quietly, his glowing eyes looking down at the pavement. "You lost so much blood..."

Her breath caught in her throat. How did he know? He wasn't at Nibelheim. Did Zack tell him? But he sounded like he was recalling the Incident. "N-no, I escaped." She swallowed hard while sizing him up. He looked emaciated. "What happened to you?"

Cloud shrugged and dropped his hands from his hips. "I quit Shinra after Nibelheim burned." He paused, and his eyes did something, glimmer or the pupils contracted in a wrong shape, but Tifa wondered if it was just a visual trick from the mako glow. "I became a mercenary."

A mercenary. Tifa let out her breath and shifted on her feet. "I, uh...I guess you had a bad job recently."

He frowned as he looked down at himself, and his shoulders twitched ever so slightly before he looked back up and shrugged. "Got ambushed by a lot of soldiers," he said flatly.

"I see."

He very obviously hadn't been eating very well at all; but he looked uninjured at least, just filthy. She wondered if Soldiers really did have incredible healing abilities like the rumors said. Tifa bit the inside of her cheek. What about Zack? "Um, Cloud? Do you remember a Soldier named Zack?"

That seemed to set him off somehow, or maybe it was just a coincidence. He dropped to his knees and held his head, his body seizing up and causing him to shudder erratically. Tifa put a hand on his shoulder and bent down next to him. "Cloud!"

He calmed down at her touch and took very harsh, heavy breaths. He turned his head to look at her, and he looked as if nothing happened at all. "Mm?"

She pursed her lips. "I think you need to see a doctor, Cloud. There's a clinic over—"

"No," he whispered. "No doctors."

"I mean, she's probably not a real doctor but she does her best," she tried to assure him.

He shook his head. "Please. I don't want to see a doctor." There was disgust and desperation tinging his voice. "I just need to rest a bit before I take off again."

She looked at him incredulously. Where was he going to go off to? He looked like he was completely down on his luck despite the cocky facade. What was more, she couldn't let this small bit of her past before Sephiroth took everything leave again, not when she had so many questions! "How about you clean up at my place, okay?"

"I...um..." He looked down at his dirty arms and boots, then back at her with a nod. "Lead the way."

It had felt like the right thing to do at the time, and Tifa still felt it was. But as to it being a good idea, she decided that perhaps she should have thought things through a little more after somehow getting Cloud to the bar. He was weak and had been dragging his sword through the filthy streets while still trying to keep that cocky posture of his. When they had made it to Seventh Heaven he had asked how she had come to own her very own bar.

She replied that the owner had been murdered two years ago when he went to travel to Wall Market. By who, she didn't know. Shinra, gangsters, a slag hopped up on drugs. It didn't matter anymore, because she claimed it when news of his death reached her. Barret made sure the decision to own the makeshift bar was enforced.

After helping him into the bathroom downstairs and giving him a bag to throw away his underwear she made up the tiny guest room that was little more than a modified utility closet before throwing his uniform in the washer. He insisted on keeping it because he said he earned it. She would have rather burned them, but it was his descision.

She had wondered where he acquired that hideous scar on his chest. He really must be a mercenary, after all.

Now, as he lay sleeping on the rickety bed in a pair of Biggs' boxers, she had to deal with Barret upstairs before the bar opened.

The big, dark skinned man put his good hand and his covered stump on the wooden counter, his dark eyes staring at her in disbelief. "You brought home a what?"

"He's not employed by Shinra anymore, Barret." Tifa crossed her arms and stared right back at him. Her eyes glanced Marlene as she sat on a stool eating a snack, sheepishly watching her adoptive parents. Tifa tightened her jaw, then looked back at Barret. The sound of boiling chicken bones punctuated the silence.

Barret motioned his hand towards the pinball machine that covered the entrance to the living area. "You don't know if he's tellin' the truth or not! Once a Shinra rat, always a Shinra rat!"

Tifa shook her head. "No," she said quietly, softly. Her eyes drifted downward towards her feet. Cloud knew how she had almost died, somehow. He said he had quit Shinra after the Nibelheim Incident, but why keep the uniform? What did he go through that made him protective of it? But Shinra wouldn't know of their possible plans to create a resistance group. Only she and Barret had spoken of it late at night and in hushed whispers.

She looked back up at Barret. "He...he was there."

"Where?" he interrogated with a raised brow.

"...At the Nibelheim Incident."

He brought his hands up in an exaggerated shrug. "You never said nothin' 'bout a guy named Cloud!"

Tifa played with a strand of her hair. "My memory was a little...hazy, during and after the fire, on account of my injuries. But, he remembers seeing me."

Barret brought his fist and stump back down on the counter, and he leaned in close. "He coulda been part of a clean up crew," he growled.

She hadn't thought of that. But he had seen her! What if he had passed her on to Zangan? Zangan's name was on that clinic tab when she left for a dark world so different from the one she grew up in. What about Cloud's mother? He had to care, deep down if he left. She puffed out her chest. "I doubt he would cooperate if he had to clean up his hometown's ashes."

Barret's face scrunched up into a frown, but she continued. "We were childhood friends," she lied. "I know that if they were stupid enough to make him go out to the ruins, he probably deserted soon after arriving."

"You said he was Soldier?" Barret pulled himself up to look down at Tifa again. "Y'sure he isn't gonna go batshit crazy?"

She was pretty sure he already was, but he wasn't violent crazy, thank Odin. "He hasn't done anything threatening towards me." Tifa looked around, then leaned in close. "Barret, he said he's a mercenary. We could hire him if we go through with this resistance we were thinking about!"

A thoughtful look crossed his face, and he rubbed his chin. A Soldier would give them a lot of man power if they decided to get dirty. "What's he good at, 'sides fightin'?"

Tifa shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, I'll ask him after the bar closes for the night. He could be a great physical asset, he might even have some information on Shinra."

He looked at Marlene, then at Tifa. "If he lays a god damn finger on Marlene..."

"I'll snap his neck myself," she finished.

That seemed to appease Barret, for now at least. "You best keep an eye on him an' make sure he's not doin' anything that could get us killed." He picked up Marlene as she finished her snack, then walked towards the pinball machine. "I'll ask Jessie to watch his ass when she gets back from where ever she went."

"Please don't shoot him," Tifa pleaded. Barret didn't wear his gun arm in the bar most of the time.

Barret looked back and scoffed. "So long as he don't do nothin' that deserves a bullet." He pressed a button on the side and bottom of the machine, and it sunk down with the two ferried on it.

Tifa huffed a sigh as she turned back to the stock she was creating, stirring it and watching as the bones slowly dissolved into the liquid. She would have to give some to Cloud, perhaps in a rice porridge so he could get back on his feet quicker. She remembered that he wanted to take off again, and as they talked on their way back to the bar she had asked where.

He wanted to see what was on North Continent, he had said.

She shook her head. No, she would convince him to stay here. She had to.

Chapter Text

Jessie turned the key within the rusty lock on the stained door to Seventh Heaven, and a familiar, protesting squeak came from within the old scrappy metal. She looked about one last time before pulling out the key and opening the door, quickly entering and relocking the entrance. The rich smell of Tifa's cooking replaced the stale, metallic funk that permeated the air of the sector, reminding Jesse that it was almost time for the bar to open.

Biggs would be here soon.

Tifa ran a tight ship in her bar. There were the regulars, who usually came in after work for cheap beer and a cheap but tasty meal that the pugilist was somehow able to create with what could be found in the markets dotting the slums. Regulars could generally be trusted not to cause problems, and Biggs only ever had to kindly assist them out the door if they drank a little too much. Most of the time.

Then there were visitors, who might be in the slums for any myriad of reasons that neither she nor Tifa cared to know about in most cases. Some were random dregs; others were most assuredly Shinra spies that occasionally came down from the upper city to listen for any words of active rebellion. They shouldn't have bothered. Any talk of that in the bar was after hours or in the living area carved from the hard ground beneath the bar.

Visitors could get touchy, or violent, and when that happened everyone remembered very quickly that Tifa wasn't a helpless little lady. The last one that tried anything physical had rubbed Tifa's leg with a grimy hand, and had stumbled out of the bar with a broken jaw courtesy of the young woman's martial arts training.

Jessie felt so fortunate that Tifa would teach her when she had some time.

"Welcome back, Jessie. Find any useful scrap?" Tifa turned her head to look at her as she swirled a murky yellow fluid that boiled in the pot on the stovetop. There was a smaller pot steaming with a creamier concoction in it, Jessie noticed as she came behind the bar.

The light brown haired woman gently gave her side pouch a shake. "I found some screws and nails, some copper wire, and a motherboard I'm going to try to recycle," she said as she glanced at the pouch and then Tifa. The bartender had that always warm smile on her face, but Jessie sensed something had happened while she was gone; Tifa's brows were wrinkled ever so slightly.

Jessie pursed her lips and gave Tifa a piercing look. "Is everything alright?"

Tifa didn't answer right away. She turned to stir the broth simmering in the pot, then ladeled some into the smaller pot next to it. "Yeah." She looked back at Jessie while she stirred what looked like jūk, a popular dish imported from Wutai after the war. Cheap and easy to make, and good for people recovering from illness. It wasn't out of place in the bar, as Tifa very occasionally sold it as a simple special the few days before locals would be paid, but it wasn't the right week, and it was just a small pot.

"That's not our dinner, is it?" Jessie pointed at the small pot. She wondered if perhaps some goons had demanded protection money from the bar and Barret hadn't been around to stop it.

Tifa shook her head and huffed a small laugh. "No, of course not." She looked down, her hand still twirling the spoon sticking out of the thick rice gruel. "Um, I...I found a friend of mine at the train station." Her deep ruby eyes looked back up at Jessie, and she tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. "He looked like he wasn't doing too well, so I brought him here to recover."

"Oh." Jessie looked behind her at the pinball machine. There was a strange man under there. "A friend?" She turned her head back, a quizzical look on her face.

The bartender hesitantly nodded before taking a white bowl from a cabinet above her head, wrapping a dish towel around the bottom, and filling it with some of the jūk. Jessie noticed there was a handful of barley in the pale yellow gruel as Tifa handed it to her with a ceramic spoon jutting out of it. Jessie looked from the bowl to Tifa, the look on her face belying nervousness. "I haven't seen him in years, you see. And now that we finally meet again, he doesn't look too good."

She let out a sigh and tensed her jaw, then looked Jessie in her soft brown eyes. "Could you feed him this when he wakes up? I would do it, but the bar is going to open soon and we can't miss any income."

Jessie nodded. He was Tifa's friend, so he would probably be alright. "What's his name?"

"Um, Cloud."

"Cloud, okay. I'll keep watch downstairs!" Jessie turned and walked towards the pinball machine, bowl in hand. She pressed the hidden button that worked the elevator, and she began to sink down. She looked back at Tifa as her eyes came close to level with the scrap wood floor of the bar.

"Tell me if you need anything!" Tifa called.

"Okay!"

Jessie made it the rest of the way down, then flipped the switch to bring the machine back up. She would be fine, she figured. It wasn't like they ran the elevator when the bar was open, anyway. Usually Marlene stayed down here during business hours with her, and Barret would either watch the bar or check the food stores on the upper floor with Wedge for any pests or to track what they were low on. The liquors were stored in a room behind the bar, and the two would check those last.

She made her way towards the guest bedroom she had helped set up a month and a half ago with Tifa. Barret was standing there in the hall with his arms crossed, blocking her view of the stranger. He was watching the bedridden man hawkishly. Jessie cleared her throat, and Barret looked down at her, his eyes going from Jessie, to the bowl, then back at her again.

He put his hand and gun to his hips. Jessie glared at the noisy piece of heavy metal; was he thinking he would need it? "Tifa sent yeh down to feed this pasty lil' twig?"

Her eyes traveled back to Barret's. "Yeah. The bar's opening up soon, after all."

Barret grunted. "You just watch'em. He might look weak, but his ass was carryin' that big kitchen knife." He motioned with his hand towards the living area. Jessie took a look behind her and noticed a giant, wide sword leaning against the wall. "You still got that strong taser?"

Jessie brought a hand to her side to feel the cool, ribbed plastic of her taser handle. She'd made it herself. "Yeah," she mumbled as she continued to study the sword from across the way.

She felt his large, heavy hand on her fabric shoulder pad. "You jes' call up if he starts anything, you got me? And keep Marlene away from him, too."

Her head turned and she looked up at him again, her head tilted and brows creased. "So...what's wrong with him?" Barret was protective, but he was acting like there were a thousand red flags planted on this invalid she had yet to see.

Barret shrugged. "He looks like shit, I'll give Tifa that," he grumbled. "She said he's ex-Soldier. Now, I don't trust his ass. He worked for Shinra, and that's all I need to know about him." His face grew thoughtful, while still holding a stern eye. "Mebbe he's different, like Tifa said. I'll give'em the benefit of the doubt, for now."

Jessie's eyes widened ever so much. An ex-Soldier? Soldiers were rare, and an ex-Soldier was almost unheard of, especially in the slums. Her curiosity was piqued. "I'm sure I can handle both him and Marlene," she said confidently.

He studied her with a tense jaw, then nodded slowly after a few moments. "Awright. Remember, keep Marlene away."

"Alright...Is she taking her nap?"

"Yeah. Marlene should be asleep for a few hours." He moved past Jessie and towards the elevator, flipping the switch before stepping to the side as gears creaked and metal chains grinded. She needed to oil those, she thought. "I'll be checkin' our rice and wheat reserves on the second floor once Wedge gets his ass back here."

The pinball machine returned and Barret walked onto the wood floor, the metal platform of the elevator holding it through bolts in the game machine's legs. He flipped the switch and up he went, leaving Jessie alone in the white light of the fluorescent bulbs hanging from the ceiling of the living area and the hall.

She looked at the bowl in her hand and remembered that she could finally get a good look at this stranger Tifa dragged into the bar. With one last glance at the giant sword she re-entered the hall and peeked into the tiny guest room to get a look at this man.

The room had a small cracked lamp on a bedside table, the lampshade thin and tan. It gave the light a dingy color; she was thankful that one of the fluorescent lights was hanging right outside the room. Jessie moved the old wooden stool near the door to the side of the bed and sat down, then placed the steaming bowl of gruel on the splintered top of the wooden end table.

This man, Cloud, was sleeping under the thin blue covers, his arms out and on his sides and his chest rising and lowering steadily. Jessie noted that his pale face was rather sunken in and sallow, though perhaps the tint was from the dull light of the lamp, she reasoned. He looked rather handsome despite his thinness, and she found his shock of blond spikes delightful. They spread about the pillow and framed his face, his bangs going as far as his nose. They looked a little unkempt, so he would perhaps need a haircut when he was well again. His jaw was sprinkled with patchy, dark blond stubble.

She thought he looked particularly youthful, and wondered how old he actually was if he was Tifa's friend. Then she remembered he was ex-Soldier, which meant he had to be at least in his late teens. Jessie studied his arms and frowned. Cloud was scrawny, his muscles without tone; it was as if he hadn't been very active as of late. But Barret had said he had carried that giant sword!

The young hacker bit her lip. An ex-Soldier...What had he done while he was in the military? Had he been part of the slum purges? Had he been sent to assist the Turks with a kidnapping? She had seen a Soldier up close only once, while working for her former boss. His indigo eyes glowed, burning through the dim setting of the richly embellished room he found himself in. She remembered thinking he looked bored after the initial shock and unease had passed.

That man had been quiet, cocky, and disinterested. He had given her a small smile and a wink when he had noticed her stare, and she couldn't help but feel a little flustered by the attention despite knowing what he was. Did superhumans stop being human inside? Maybe she would get her answer when Cloud woke up.

Jessie stayed by him for a while, thinking. He was Tifa's friend, so he was probably a good person despite the career choice. After all, how many people actually knew what they were getting themselves into when they joined Shinra, or someone affiliated with them? He was an ex-Soldier, and a young one at that. Did he just up and quit one day? Cloud could very well be wanted for desertion. She felt she could understand why he would.

Hadn't she done the same with her boss? Up and leave?

"Jessie?"

She turned her head to the side. Marlene was peeking her head out from the doorway, looking at her, then Cloud. Jessie stood up and walked towards the little girl; Barret's word was law when it came to his daughter. She bent down and put a hand on her back. "Marlene, you know your daddy doesn't want you near the stranger."

Marlene fidgeted. "I wanna see him."

Jessie chuckled gently and scooped the little girl up. For just a moment she thought better of it, but then moved her body to the side and revealed Cloud to Marlene. "Look, there he is. But don't tell Daddy I let you see him!"

Marlene leaned towards the sleeping man, soaking in as much of the sight of him as she could. "I wanna talk to him."

"Nuh-uh! Daddy will get mad at me," the technician said as she carried Marlene back to her room. It was much larger than the little guest room Cloud slept in. There were two beds; one was Marlene's and the other Barret's. Occasionally she would sleep with Tifa, who shared her room with Jessie next door.

Jessie strode over to Marlene's bed and placed her on it, then tucked her in. "You gotta finish your nap so you can help me repair things later."

Marlene bit her lip. Jessie knew she was torn between sneaking more peeks at the stranger while he wasn't awake and getting to watch how things are repaired. She made an indecisive moan. Jessie patted the girl's shoulder. "I'm sure you'll get to see him when he's awake."

"Oh! D'you think Daddy'll led me?"

Jessie shrugged and gave Marlene a cheeky smirk. "I don't know, but maybe if you're good he'll let you."

Marlene nodded, then enthusiastically settled into bed. She closed her eyes, and frowned before opening them a few moments later. "I can't get to sleep, Jessie."

"You just got back into bed!"

"Can you read me a story?"

Jessie sighed. "Marlene, I have to be there when Cloud wakes up..."

"Clowd? Aren't they liddle puffs in the sky?" Marlene had seen pictures of the sky in picture books Barret bought for her.

Jessie had a smile grow on her face, but her heart grew puzzled. Was Cloud even his real name? A Soldier named Cloud? "I guess he's named after them." Before Marlene could ask more questions she was unprepared to answer, Jessie pulled a book out of the small space on the lower half of the bed table and cracked it open.

She started reading Marlene a story about a man who was turned into a frog by an evil witch, and how he had to use charm and guile to get his wife to kiss him to break the curse. Marlene loved that story, and she soon fell asleep again. Jessie very carefully put the book away and turned off the lamp before sneaking out of the room.

Again she found herself sitting on the rickety old stool next to a sleeping stranger, and her eyes again traveled to his spiky hair. She wondered if she could get away with touching one. Were they hard? Were they soft? Very slowly she brought a hand close to a nearby spike smooshed into the pillow.

He wrinkled his brow and let out a huff of a grunt, his hands grabbing fistfuls of blanket. Jessie retracted her hand but not without a glancing pass of a finger on Cloud's hair; it was surprisingly soft. Cloud turned his head and stiffly stretched, his body shaking as it pulled muscles and popped joints.

Jessie quickly grabbed the still hot bowl of jūk and placed it in her lap, then stirred it as butterflies fluttered in her stomach. This was it, she was going to talk to an old friend of Tifa's from who-knows-where. She watched him wide eyed, as if he was a baby that had just been given birth to.

Cloud sat up in bed, the springs creaking loudly as he shifted about. He rubbed his face and yawned into his hands before plopping them into his lap with his head down. Jessie couldn't see anything on account of his hair framing his face, and she waited impatiently to see if he, too, held the tell-tale glow of a Soldier. She knew he did, but seeing it was what she wanted.

When he turned to look at her, they didn't seem that bright. It was probably because of the dull lamp two feet away, she reasoned. His eyes were a rich azure, and seemed...confused. They traveled from her, to the doorway, to the bowl in her lap. Then he looked at her again.

Did he lose the ability to speak?

Maybe he was waiting on her to speak. Jessie nodded and smiled a greeting at him. "Hi, I-I'm Jessie..."

"Where's Tifa?" he croaked.

She felt a little taken aback, but Tifa was his friend, not her. He just met her. She swallowed and looked down at the rice gruel she held. "Um, she's working the bar. She wanted me to give you some food when you woke up..."

Cloud didn't say anything back. After a few moments she looked back up. He held a frown on his face and his eyes were almost blank. She cocked her head. "Cloud?"

He jolted out of whatever reverie he was in, and he gave her a hard stare. "Did Tifa give you that name?"

"Well...yeah," she responded with a raised brow. Wouldn't Tifa know his real name?

Cloud grunted, but said nothing else. Jessie felt as confused as he looked. That name? Was Cloud his name? He sounded like it wasn't, or maybe she wasn't supposed to know. His frown returned as she continued to stare at him. "What?" he demanded tersely.

"Oh, I-Sorry." Her eyes drifted downward towards his partially exposed chest. His arm blocked most of his chest, but he looked emaciated. She shook her head lightly and grabbed the spoon in bowl, and scooped up some of the jūk to offer it to him.

His frown deepened. "I'm not eating that."

It was her turn to frown. "Tifa made this for you."

Cloud's eyes widened ever so much, and he looked down at it, then snatched the bowl and spoon from her hands. "O-oh. Well, I can feed myself."

He set his back straight and began eating the gruel. Jessie noticed that while he ignored her, he seemed to be trying to resist devouring the jūk all in one gulp. He would barely blow upon the spoon before placing it into his mouth and swallowing it down.

Cloud finished his bowl quickly, letting out a little sigh as he stared into the empty bowl. Jessie wondered if he would have licked it clean if she wasn't in the room. Almost as if reading her thoughts, he turned his head and looked at her, as if to ask why she was still there.

She bit her lip. She wanted to know him a bit better, despite the rudeness. He never once said thank you, but maybe he was still reeling from whatever ordeal he survived? Her eyes lit up when she remembered there was some juice and soft snacks in the mini-fridge she had set up in the living area. "Are you still hungry?"

He looked hesitant to answer.

Jessie stood up. "It's alright, I'll get you a little something more." She carefully took the bowl from him, getting a look at a hideous scar under his heart. Cloud covered it before she could look more, and scowled.

He really didn't want her looking at that scar. She wondered why. Perhaps he was a little narcissistic?

She quickly placed the bowl on the table and bee-lined for the little fridge, opening it and looking this way and that. Jessie knew electronics and computers and machines, not sick people. But if jūk was anything to go by, she had to get him something thin and watery.

There was some apple juice Tifa made from concentrate, and a few small desserts made from a local couple that used to live in Kalm. Jessie studied one; it was made from milk and most assuredly artificial berry flavors. Real berries were prohibitively expensive on the upper city, and unheard of in the slums unless someone traveled from far away to bring dried ones to their family.

It would have to do.

She snatched one out and returned to the guest room. Cloud's eyes very obviously glowed under his bangs, the weak light of the lamp slightly behind him. Jessie's spine tingled; he looked rather menacing with his head at that angle.

He let out a sniffle and raised a single, blond brow. Her hand came up and he looked at the little dessert. His lips pressed together, as if he was unimpressed, but plucked it from her hand anyway. He peeled off the plastic wrap and grabbed the spoon from the bowl without looking, then began to eat again. He took his time, she noticed.

She also noticed that the jūk bowl was clean of every smear of porridge. Maybe he was just putting up a tough guy act, and he would soften later. Still, she wondered about his name. He acted like she shouldn't know his name. But she was Tifa's friend, too. Shouldn't that count for something? He was a bit of an ass.

Jessie heard the telltale sound of little feet coming closer. Her eyes widened and she huffed. Cloud looked up at her. "If you need anything, just ask! I gotta babysit!"

"I already knew you were babysitting."

"Huh?"

He shrugged dismissively. "You've been hovering over me since I woke up." He looked down and ate another spoonful.

Before he could continue, Jessie scrunched her face up a little. "I actually have a kid to keep watch over, too." She left with a flip of her thick ponytail, and made her way towards Marlene. Yep, this Cloud fellow was definitely an ass.

As Jessie took one final look at Cloud before closing the door to the guest room, she wondered how she could get to know the person Tifa regarded as a friend.

Chapter Text

Hey.

Who are you?

You remember what happened, right?

Remember what...? Nibelheim? Yeah.

Do you? You don't seem like you do.

...What are you talking about? I remember. I remember the heat of the flames, the screams...

That's not at all what I'm talking about.

"Let's play this game!"

He cringed as he was jolted out of his light nap. He sat up in bed with a tired sniffle, the springs of the mattress protesting loudly beneath him.

"Shh, Marlene. Our guest is sleeping."

"Sorry."

Cloud rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers. A fog of some sort clouded the back of his mind, and despite the abundant bowl of jūk and fruity dessert he had been given, his body craved more food. Tifa had made that for him, he thought in his mind. He supposed he might look like a trainwreck, but he couldn't help it.

"Damn troopers," he mumbled to himself.

The memory was hazy, and he didn't even remember who his employer was—no, it was a trap. That's right. His former employer put him into a trap. Cloud snorted in disgust at the thought. Once he remembered who it was, he would teach him a lesson. There was a strange sense of loss tugging at his heart that he couldn't explain, making him press into his foggy memory. Why was everything so hard to remember? He could remember the Nibelheim incident like it happened yesterday, but everything after that was a murky blur.

He thought that perhaps he hit his head a bit too hard at some point.

Cloud ventured out of his brooding, and heard voices from somewhere nearby. That of a young girl, and that Jessie woman that looked at him with a glimmer in her eye. He frowned; could he always hear this well? Yes...Yes, he could. He was ex-Soldier after all. A superhuman. A former elite of Shinra's army. Everything was enhanced on him.

The bed creaked as he shuffled off of it. He felt a little restless after his nap. What should he do? Maybe some squats. He felt healthy enough to do a few sets. Cloud set about bending and moving his knees and elbows, awkwardly at first and then a bit smoother as he went on. It stretched and warmed up his muscles; he felt like he hadn't given them a proper workout in ages.

Cloud took a look at his arms when he was finished, and pinched the skin. It was a little loose on his flesh, like he had lost quite a bit of weight. What the hell happened? He shouldn't be this soft. He had been eating right, hadn't he? He wasn't sure.

Why did he feel so exhausted? He had taken two naps already! Cloud fell back onto the old mattress, the springs groaning in protest. He thought better of wandering out and seeing that Jessie woman and the child, and put an arm over his eyes. His mind wandered to Tifa; if he slept more, he would see her sooner, he reasoned. She was someone he wanted to see. A familiar face in a sea of strangers.

Still confused?

...About what?

Everything. How did you end up in the slums?

I walked, of course.

From where?

I...don't remember. Who are you?

Don't you think you should be trying to piece together your recent past?

"Ugh." Cloud's eyes peeked open again. He was unsure how long he had been out this time, but there were far fewer footsteps issuing from the ceiling. He blinked quickly, clearing his vision. A gruff looking man was watching him from the doorway with his arms crossed, a disapproving glare in his eyes. His skin was pale and he wore a red bandana that kept his long brown bangs out of his face.

Cloud sat up in bed and rubbed his stubble speckled cheek with a sniffle. He lowered his brows and gave a frown to the stranger, displeased that his privacy was once again violated. "What?"

The man seemed taken aback, momentarily dropping his act before quickly glaring at him again. "Nice to meet you too, Sunshine."

The ex-Soldier continued to blandly look up at the man, waiting for him to explain his intrusion into the guest room. He could tell he was intimidating the man, but he wasn't sure how in his current state. This fellow looked like he could take him on in a fight.

But, he remembered; he was Soldier, and this stranger most assuredly was not enhanced like he was.

"Uh, I'm just here to make sure ya don't get up to somethin'," the brunet mumbled.

Cloud gave him a withering look. "I'm sure you'll foil my plans or whatever."

The stranger sneered at him, then looked away from Cloud quickly. "Asshole."

The blond scoffed; he wasn't the one staring at people as they slept. Maybe he was an asshole, but at least he gave people their space, he thought. "Where's Tifa?"

The man didn't look back at him. "She's cleanin' up the bar," he replied curtly.

Cloud rubbed his face. He figured Tifa would be finished soon, and he was done lying in bed for now. He dragged himself out of bed, then stretched. The stranger looked at him and took a step back as he began to walk towards him. "Outta my way," Cloud demanded. "I'm going to the bathroom."

The stranger moved backwards to open up the hall that led to the bathroom, still blocking the path to the living area. Cloud shot him a glance, then continued on his way towards the bathroom. The floors were clean if a little rough on his bare feet, and the passage was a little narrow. Nothing that would be out of place in the slums.

The bathroom was larger than the guest room, with an old cream colored tub with a showerhead sticking out of the wall above it. The shower curtains were a mint green in the dingy white light that came from a bulb on the ceiling. The walls were white tile, cracked here and there and most assuredly scavenged like the rest of the materials for the bar.

He shut the door and went up to the white ceramic sink and turned on the cold tap. After he let it run a few seconds he cupped his hands and put them under the running water, then splashed it on his face as he hovered his head above the basin. He sniffled as he rubbed it into his skin, waking him up and making him feel refreshed.

After grabbing a small towel from the flimsy looking metal rack between the sink and the tub, he dried himself off, hands first. Cloud took a glance at himself as he patted away the moisture from his skin and bangs, then blinked a few times in surprise.

He leaned in, and pulled gently at the skin near his lower eyelid to get a better look. His eyes were glowing softly in the low light, and streams of green flowed from his pupil and towards his outer iris. He licked his lips in apprehension.

His eyes never looked like this. Did they?

Cloud looked down, holding the sides of the sink as he thought. No, no...He was Soldier. Soldiers have glowing eyes; it was the telltale mark of the elite Shinra troops, he remembered. Yes, this was his new normal. He had to have seen them before. He had been like this for years!

He figured he had bumped his head out there in the wastes, and he was just having trouble remembering some things. He looked back up to study his eyes again. No wonder he was getting looks from everyone, including Tifa. They were hard to get used to. It was like they had a life of their own, or like he was staring into his own soul.

Crunch

The ex-Soldier jumped a little from the noise, and he looked down. The ceramic of the sink had cracked and popped a little where his hands had been. Cloud took a look at one of his palms, and found a little white rubble embedded in the skin.

He was strong.

Anxiously he flexed his hands, then ran them through the tap to get rid of anything sticking to his skin. With a nervous huff he took a few paces to the toilet and relieved himself as he stared blankly at the wall while leaning a hand into it. He felt something was wrong, but he wasn't sure what. Something in his memory wasn't adding up. It felt like a piece of paper covered in shotgun splatter.

He tried to take stock of what he did know.

He knew Tifa. Tifa was his neighbor in Nibelheim. He remembered something had happened, something to do with the water tower in the middle of town, on a cold evening. He raked his memories, but it was still within the proverbial fog. Why did he have a fondness for her? They must have been close. Yes, maybe. Cloud went to other subjects that were easy to pick out, leaving Tifa's mystery for another time. She could probably help him sort it out.

Nibelheim was something he remembered, as if it had happened yesterday. Fire and smoke flashed in and out of his vision, the flames exploding from Sephiroth's hand—

No. No, he had not been in the town proper when that happened. He had been in the mansion, checking on Sephiroth, before following him out. After all, they had been friends at one point. The madman had accused him, Cloud, of being a traitor. His hand curled as it rested on the wall. Sephiroth had the audacity to call him a traitor, when he turned against humanity itself? They were supposed to be friends, and he burned his hometown to ash!

Everything was lost. The watertower, the old cornerstore and the inn, his mother...His mother! Cloud pushed away from the toilet and went to clean his hands again, needing to do something as he thought. He tried to get into her house and save her, but the flames licked at his face and—had he heard her screams? Why did the loss hurt so much, even with five years passed? He felt like he had never mourned her, and with that memory fresh in his mind he wanted to.

He willed it away. He was a Soldier. He couldn't show weakness, not with those strangers so close. Cloud heard footsteps coming closer; it was probably that gruff slum dweller checking to make sure he wasn't up to something. He let out a sigh, agitated that he didn't have the privacy he craved to think over everything and properly mourn the things he should have a long time ago. Perhaps, he thought, he had been too busy.

Been too busy to mourn?

No, too busy avoiding Shinra. They would be after him for questioning, maybe. That was why he was in such bad shape. They had been tailing him for a while, and finally cornered him in the wastes. But he got away, finally. It had been a stroke of luck Tifa had found him. All this time, he thought she had died, but somehow she survived. For some reason it made him feel a sense of pride, but why? He couldn't remember what happened after he confronted Sephiroth in the core of the reactor.

He looked down at the scar on his chest. What happened here?

He jolted as the rickety door to the bathroom was knocked on, hard. Cloud narrowed his eyes, then stomped over to open it a little. A big, dark skinned man was glowering down at him, completely unphased by his mako eyes. "Can't a guy freshen up in peace?" he greeted.

"Not when you a damn Shinra goon you can't," the man replied. "Tifa's waitin' on your scrawny ass."

Cloud's eyes widened just a little, and he opened the door more and shoved past the larger man without saying anything more. The man said some insult to him, but he was again wrapped up in his thoughts. What would he say to Tifa? What would she want to talk to him about, now that she wasn't working? Maybe they could catch up on some things, and patch up some of his memories. That would be good, he decided.

He found her sitting by his bed, holding another bowl of jūk. Cloud wanted to say he remembered eating this in Wutai, but he was pretty sure he became Soldier after the Wutai war was over. He had been wondering about that since Jessie gave him the first bowl.

Tifa gave him a thin smile, forcing herself to look him in the eye; he noticed how deliberate the action was. He nodded back to her as he slowly returned to the bed. "Hey."

"Hey." She handed him the bowl, wrapped in a small towel. He gently took it from her, then stirred it around a little. He could smell chicken coming from it.

"Thanks, Tifa." He started blowing on a spoonful of the porridge, feeling ravenous again with food so close by.

She nodded. "So, are you feeling a little better?"

"Mhm," he mumbled after eating a spoonful.

"That's good. Listen, Cloud..." Tifa looked down into her lap for a few moments, then let out a big, quiet sigh before looking back at him. "I, um...I don't know if I should bring...it...up..."

He raised a brow after swallowing another mouthful. "It?"

She licked her lips. "Nibelheim," she barely whispered.

Cloud's eyes twitched, but soon softened. Not his favorite subject, and he wasn't sure how far he wanted to wade considering his choppy memories. Not that he was going to tell her. They were slowly falling into place, anyway. What would be wrong with a little one-on-one group therapy? "That day has been burned into my memory forever," he said morosely.

Tifa stared at him, willing him to continue on without using words. He quietly ate some more jūk before continuing on. "I wasn't really close to anyone in town besides you and Mom. But...No one deserved that. No one."

She nodded, slowly. "...How much do you remember?"

He scratched the side of his head and shrugged. "I've been trying to keep track of the little details that were slipping out of my memory. I've been runnin' from Shinra for a long time." Cloud picked up the spoon to continue eating.

Tifa's deep ruby eyes brightened at the news. "Shinra's been chasing after you?"

"Yeah." Or that was what he had deduced. "I guess they don't like it when their Soldiers go AWOL."

He noticed a genuine smile growing on her face. He frowned as he sucked off the porridge from the spoon. "What?"

Tifa blushed, bringing a hand to her mouth in embarrassment. It wasn't that he didn't like her smile—it reminded him of the days before Sephiroth went insane. She had readily smiled at him in Nibelheim, whether he had been patrolling during the early evening or striking up a chat with her during their journey up Mount Nibel. No, it was that she was smiling at news that he had been on the run from his former employers.

"Well, I mean...Barret was worried you were still working for them."

Cloud scoffed, disgust rising in his gut. "He sounds like a real comedian. Is he that guy wearing the bandana?"

Tifa cocked her head a little. "No, that was either Biggs or Wedge. Barret was the one who checked on you in the bathroom."

He grunted, bringing the spoon away from his lips. Why should he care about their names? Well, he could forget those when they weren't in his immediate vicinity anymore. After all, a mercenary should have a good short term memory to keep track of who was who if he had to escort a customer. There was no harm in it at all, he thought.

It was his turn for a question. "How did you survive?" he asked gently. Every time he had glanced her way as she guided them to the bar, that question rang like a bell in his brain. Why wasn't she dead? Not that he hadn't been elated that she had survived. For five years he thought she was dead, but he had been delightfully incorrect.

She seemed a little uncomfortable, and shifted in her seat, making the wood sockets squeak. "I...My memory is a little fuzzy, if I'm being honest here. But, I think maybe Zangan found me, or maybe you gave me to him. I fell into a coma, so I don't really know." A finger came to curl a long strand of nearly black hair.

He nodded a few times in understanding. His dinner was making him feel better. "I can't remember everything that happened in the reactor," he admitted. "It...must've been intense."

"Yeah. Oh, Cloud. I'm sorry about what happened to your mother...When Dad and me ran out of our burning house, I thought I saw someone go in. I didn't have time to check..." She looked down, blinking quickly.

He pursed his lips. "The fires were so intense, it would have been suicide to go inside." But he had done so. He just couldn't remember everything. Why? He shoved it away. "I'm sorry about your father," he mumbled.

She looked up with both brows raised. "Despite your bad history with him?"

Cloud nodded with conviction. "He was your father, Tifa. I don't think he deserved to be cut down."

"Thank you, Cloud." She rubbed at one of her eyes.

He brought the ceramic tip of the bowl to his lips, attempting to get the last mouthfuls of jūk from the bottom. Tifa made it for him, after all. It gave him a strange sense of satisfaction he didn't understand. As he lowered the bowl and opened his mouth to ask about their more distant past, Cloud heard the door open, and he looked to his side and narrowed his eyes. Barret.

"Do you just like lookin' at me, or what?"

Barret scowled at him. "You goddamn spiky headed jerk!" He looked at Tifa. "Marlene been askin' for you," he said in a softer tone.

"Oh." Tifa looked at Cloud and gave him an apologetic look. "I have to take care of her. I'll be back in a little while, okay?"

"Alright." He watched as Tifa stood up and took the few steps needed to get to the hallway. His heart skipped a beat. "And Tifa?"

She leaned her head back into the room, giving him a questioning look.

"Thank you for dinner."

A smile crossed her face. "You're welcome, Cloud." She lingered a moment more, then disappeared down the hall. He put the empty bowl on the nightstand and laid down again, putting a hand over his abdomen.

He blinked up at the ceiling, trying to get everything in order. Tifa almost died in the reactor, but she didn't. Did he have a Restore materia on him? He remembered Zangan—he had been relatively uninjured during the Incident.

How did he survive?

Cloud intuitively knew he had challenged Sephiroth. He had to have. But he also knew the raw power of Sephiroth, so how come he wasn't mincemeat? He let out a growl of frustration; it was all so tiresome, picking through his brain for something, anything, to latch onto.

He moved his head to look at the doorway as a creak came from a floorboard, and he glared at Barret as he stood there, arms crossed. "What?" he said, exasperated.
"Don't think for a second that we ain't keepin' an eye on you, Soldier boy!"

Cloud rolled his eyes before plopping his head back down on the pillow and putting his arm over them. He let out an angry sigh. "You know what? I don't give a shit. Just let me rest in peace."

He heard the man grumble, but he said no more to Cloud's relief. The ex-Soldier let out a little sniffle and relaxed into the mattress, his belly warm and full and his mind going inward yet again. He could hear Barret's slow breathing and further away the murmurs of that little girl talking to Tifa, and Jessie talking to two men. They were whispering. Cloud figured they heard his agitated plea to the burly man that stood guard over his room.

Slowly he fell back asleep, and that voice returned. He wasn't sure whether to be happy or unnerved by it.

Find anything out?

...Yeah. But...

Every answer had more questions attached to it.

Yeah.

Maybe you should ask Tifa—

Ḿ̢̨͙̻̩̰̖̏̂͌̒̌̇̊̓ą̸̮̻͚̺͕͖̊͗̍͋͒͒͆̔͞y̸̧̡͈͈̩̩̘̰͓͌̈͐͑̾̀͝͞ͅb̗̯͈̩̹͙̈́̒̍̄̈͞e̢͎̮͕̖̠̬̗͎̞̽̔̏̾̔͘ y̡͓̲̺̜̳͇̖̎̆͑̎͒́̓͡o̧͇͈̩̩̤̞̔̽̑̋̒͢u̢̠̹̻̜̱̬̰͕͈̔̋̆̓̌̾͋ s̛͓̘͓̫̣̤̩͍̒̌̃͆̕̕͢͡h̢̧̛͚̩̗̮̬̻͈̅̓̒̕͜͝ơ̶̗̣̤̟͑͒̐̌͢͢͜û̶͈̳͈̯̹͖̾͗̄̌͊̕͡ͅl̡̛̮̩͓͕͈̣̟̐͛̀̌͋͟͠d̶̢̳̯̝͚͇͌̎͆̇̈̓͋̎͡ņ̛͖̹̩̲̥̝̳͆͊͒̋̌'̗͍͉̝͎̰̩̔̅̔̓̀͛̕̕͜ͅͅt̡̡̻̙̣͙͙͚́͂̔̽͋̌̋̓̓

Chapter Text

"Jessie, do you think you could look for him in Shinra's files?" Tifa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked down at Jessie, who sat by her computer. She had spoken to Cloud a little more here and there, and she couldn't help but feel something was very, very off about his story. He was still asleep in the guest room, but she figured he would be up soon and probably quite hungry.

That was how he had been for the last two days. He would mostly sleep, wake up when she or Jessie came in to feed him, then go back to sleep. Cloud still looked practically emaciated but somehow he was still strong enough to stand up when he needed to use the bathroom. Shinra, she reasoned, had really done a number on their Soldier members. All the better for him, she thought. Not that she wasn't happy to have him.

To have someone from Nibelheim with her again after so long, even if it was the problem neighbor that barely talked to anyone in the village, was a blessing. There were maybe a handful of people around her age that were still alive if Shinra hadn't killed them yet to keep the Nibelheim Incident's official story straight. Perhaps they were the only two left alive now.

Jessie was tapping on her retro-looking keyboard, something she had bought for cheap at a flea market a week ago after her old one had finally given up the ghost. It was a light grey color with big, clunky keys. Her fingers danced across it deftly as the hacker did whatever it was that was needed to get into the conglomerate's system.

"They never fix this little backdoor," Jessie began with a slight tinge of arrogance to her voice. "But I suppose when you don't have any real enemies and you control the media, you can let things like this slide a little." Granted, she had been trying to weasel her way into some of the other departments' files, but the military rooster was the least protected of the them all. With the Wutai War years behind them, Shinra could rest on its laurels. It wasn't as if it was classified whether someone was in Soldier or not, anyway. They were almost all like a flock of peacocks, showing off the glow of their eyes and proud as any of what they were.

A list of names came onto one of Jessie's three screens. "What's his first and last name?"

"Cloud..." Tifa squeezed her eyes shut in thought. What was his last name? "Ss...Strife. Cloud Strife."

Jesse typed in the name, and waited. "Hm, no one is showing up. Not for any of the military files."

"Are you sure?" Tifa glanced back at the closed door holding the boy next door. "He said he was going in for Soldier, and he has the uniform and eyes..."

Jessie shrugged with uncertainty. "Let me check a few other files, here..."

The two watched as countless names came and went on the three monitors. Infantrymen, sergeants, Soldiers. Nothing. Tifa frowned at the monitor. "Can you look up Zachary?"

"Last name?"

The bartender shook her head. "I don't remember. He was a Soldier First Class, though. There couldn't be that many of them."

Jessie slowly nodded. She typed in the first name she was given and checked the First Class roster.

FIRST CLASS ARGENT, ZACHARY: εуλ 1999—PRESENT, ACTIVE

FIRST CLASS FAIR, ZACHARY: εуλ 1998—εуλ 0002, MIA

"Either of those look familiar?"

MIA. Missing In Action. That must be the Zack from Nibelheim; he went missing the same year Sephiroth rampaged through her village. But where was Cloud? He was wearing the outfit, and those, she knew, would not be laying around just anywhere. What could she have forgotten? She was sure she wouldn't forget seeing Cloud there, would she? He was the quiet type, but how could she miss that spiky head of blond hair?

She heard a soft thump from the guest room and Tifa walked towards it as Jesse exited the list. Cloud peeked his head out of the door a moment later, then the rest of him appeared. Despite the fact that he was a former member of Shinra's superhuman army, he looked more like a child sheepishly leaving their room in search of a glass of water.

The black T-shirt he was wearing was rather large on him, but Tifa knew he would fill out as he recovered. The pajama pants were just right, once he tied the strings on it tight enough. His spikes were beginning to droop from the length of his hair, and he still hadn't shaved.

"Good morning, Cloud. How are you feeling?"

He straightened up and shrugged. "A little restless." His voice was still rough.

"I bet. Do you feel well enough to walk around?"

Cloud looked down at his bare feet and then at the floor in his vicinity. He looked back at her and nodded.

"Alright. Let's take a few easy laps, okay?" She gave him an encouraging smile, and she swore the glow of his eyes brightened just a moment. He swallowed, then looked towards the far side of the dim hallway. Slowly, he began to walk.

They were small, stiff steps, not much different than the shuffle he had been doing whenever she had seen him out of the guest room. He smelled strange—a faint mix of musk, sweat, and mako—but he hadn't been to the shower since his first day here. Clean water was available to the bar through some branch of Shinra, but it was always best to conserve. Those who spent the most time up in the bar took the most frequent showers.

Cloud's feet were becoming surer as they turned to go back the way they came. He subtly wiggled his spine, earning a crunch or pop here and there. His eyes began to glance about, as if he were finally taking in his surroundings, and a look of disrelish crossed his face. "It's a far cry from home, isn't it?"

Tifa slowly licked her lips and nodded. She completely understood his feelings on the matter. "Yeah. But, we make do with what we have." She inhaled resignedly through her nose. "And what we have here is a lot better than what most have in the slums."

"Hm. I see." Cloud looked over at Tifa, and she kept her eyes from wandering away from his. "How long have you lived in the slums?"

She looked down, as much from thought as from avoiding the blue lights studying her. "Almost five years." Tifa slowly looked back up at him, and she took note at his set jaw. Was he upset? A slightly smug smirk came over her lips. "Hey, I made it alright. The bar is safe with everyone here."

A small grunt came from his throat, and he looked towards the bathroom door as they neared it. "It's just a lot to take in."

Tifa shrugged. "After what happened, we both made do, didn't we?"

"I...yeah."

As they made their way back to the guest room, Tifa continued their conversation. "I woke up in a clinic in the Sector Eight slums, my tab paid by Zangan. I...was all alone," she sighed out. "I had to learn how to survive here, and sometimes it was hard." Tifa paused as she thought back. He didn't need to know about the strange men that stalked her because of the accent she had hid away.

"I found work here, at this bar, eventually." He didn't need to know about the sheet metal shack she lived in for a year. "I met Barret and Marlene soon after." He didn't need to know that the three of them had to share that shack. "Then, the owner of the bar died, and I took over."

"Huh." Cloud slowly sat on the edge of the bed as Tifa sat on the stool. He looked around again. "The owner had this hiding under his bar?" His eyes went from her to the door.

She gave a half-hearted shrug. "I'm really not sure what he had in mind. We put up walls to make rooms, but I think he was making himself a bunker of some sort. He was always a little paranoid." Just not when it counted most.

A growling grumble came from the door. "Yeh don't need t'be askin' questions like that." Tifa turned to face Barret, his face stern and his gun-arm attached. Her stomach dropped. His dark eyes traveled to her, and he nodded curtly. "He looks good enough to answer some questions now."

"Oh." She looked back at Cloud with an apologetic look on her face. He was looking between them both. "Barret is just a little concerned about your past..." Not that she wasn't, but not for the same reasons. Maybe they hadn't known each other very well despite being neighbors, but she remembered. She remembered how he hugged to his mother when he was young, how he would try his best to hide the bundle of wildflowers from everyone else as he brought them into his house—but of course she saw them from her window.

Cloud may have been a part of Shinra in the past, but no matter if he were at Nibelheim or not, he never would have been on board after that. She hoped.

The blond mercenary lifted a hand dismissively. He didn't look happy with the situation, but resigned. "Fine."

As his other hand rested on his knee, she gave it a gentle pat. His skin was very warm; she was still unsure as to it being caused by an infection or because he was a superhuman. He hadn't suggested the latter when she had taken his temperature the other day, but there was so much uncertainty and surprise in his voice after she had asked. Time would tell, she told herself. "I'll be back later with some food, okay?"

He nodded. "Thanks."

Barret shut the door behind Tifa after she gave him a stern but pleading glare. He went to sit on the stool, all the while keeping eye contact with this supposed ex-Soldier named Cloud. Barret could admit he looked like absolute hell, and that was one of the reasons he hadn't shot the glowy-eyed freak where he slept the first evening he was here. Still, he was sorely suspicious of this man Tifa claimed as an old friend.

Cloud was giving him a cocky, withering expression, acting unimpressed by his gun-arm while straightening up his back.

"I'm gonna need you t'answer some questions," Barret began. "And if you give me an answer I don't like, you're leavin' here in a burlap sack."

"Good morning to you, too," Cloud drawled out as he scratched his scruffy cheek with a finger.

"It's the afternoon yeh jackass." Barret let out a sharp huff. He was going to be a handful. "So, you was in Soldier."

"Soldier First Class," Cloud clarified with pride. "I was best of the best, and don't you forget about it."

Barret raised his brows. Now that was a surprise. First Class was exceedingly rare, and the most dangerous of opponents. With that out of the way... "Tifa says you're childhood friends."

Cloud's stoic face took on a look of veiled excitement, and he nodded. "Yeah. We lived next door to each other."

"That it?"

Cloud stared at him like he was an idiot. "No...We were friends, like I said."

Barret rolled his eyes. "So, what'd yeh do together? How friendly were yeh two?" He wasn't going to settle for just neighbors.

"I—" The dark skinned man swore Cloud's eyes did something more unnatural than just glow. "—We hung out at the old well in the center of town, if you just have to know."

Barret grunted at the answer. "So yeh hung out a bit. But you had to leave to go work for the Shinra." It was more an accusation than a question.

Cloud took in a breath, then heaved it out. A few moments later, he answered. "We lived in a backwater. What should I have done? Become a goat farmer?" He shook his head. "I wanted more than the village could give."

"So you ran off to Shinra for that."

"Yeah, I did," the blond replied curtly. "I don't know how it was where you're from, but Nibelheim didn't have many good options."

Barret narrowed his eyes. "Yeh, you don't know how it is where I'm from!"

"I just said that."

"Fine! So why join Soldier?" Barret demanded.

Cloud lifted his hands in a shrug, asking his interrogator, without words, if he didn't see the obvious. "They were offering guts and glory to a teenager. Of course I took it."

Fair enough. "Awright, so why'd yeh leave?"

Narrowed blue eyes met hard dark ones. "Because of what they did. If Tifa didn't tell you, I'm not repeatin' it."

Barret shrugged his shoulders. "For all I know you're more loyal to Shinra than your own family and friends. All I know is you got them eyes and Tifa talkin' bout you when she never said a peep about no spiky-headed jackass before."

Cloud sneered at him, the bed springs squeaking as he leaned in ever so slightly. Finally, he looked menacing. "Look. I don't know you, and I don't care to know you or get you to get to know me. But don't accuse me of being a Shinra lapdog just because I used to work for them. I don't care about Shinra."

"Good to hear. So whatchu been up to since then?" Barret quirked up a brow as he continued to look him in the eye, acting unphased by those eerie blue lights.

The so-called mercenary actually looked lost when asked. He looked down and held his head, then seized up. His torso stretched and his shoulders came up sharply, frozen in place as a tremble became noticeable on his fingers. At the moment, Barret actually felt bad for the scrawny asshole, and he was ready to catch him if he were to fall from the bed.

Then he dropped his hands, and looked at Barret as if nothing happened. Cloud lazily lifted a brow. "Hm?"

Barret let out the breath he was holding and frowned at him with disbelief. "You jes had a seizure!"

For once, Cloud actually looked concerned. "I—I did? Just now?" He looked down at his feet.

"Shit, I jes asked what yeh did between quittin' Shinra and now!"

Cloud looked up, his cocky almost-sneer plastered back on his face. "I did odd jobs. You know, killing monsters, escorting, that sorta thing." He sniffled. "Why, ya interested?"

Barret looked him up and down. "Dunno. You look like you haven't been doin' as good a job as yeh'd like me to think."

The blond scowled, but not before his eyes did that thing again. "I got ambushed outside Midgar. It was just a setback."

"Hm." Interesting. There had been drunk talk from a few grunts last week, about a Soldier fighting off an ambush until he could barely stand. He had despised their presence in the bar, but Jessie had been correct about using them for some form of information, and perhaps Cloud was the one they had been speaking of.

He studied him some more, generally avoiding his eyes unless he felt he had to. He was much too skinny to have only just been ambushed, no, he had been on the run for a while now. "How long you been runnin'?"

Cloud sighed through his nose and ran a hand through the side of his scalp. "Too long," he admitted in a harsh whisper.

Barret leaned back on the stool and weighed his options. There was an ex-Soldier recovering under Seventh Heaven, who either had something to hide or didn't know himself. With the seizure, he felt it may be the latter. But was he unstable? He was downright dangerous if he snapped like a dry twig. "How're you up here?" He tapped his forehead.

For just a moment, the facade fell from Cloud's face. Then it was back up in spades. "Never had trouble before."

"You had a seizure. Now, I know you've been through some shit, we all been there," Barret began, still not trusting this stranger but not without some modicum of compassion for him. He was Tifa's friend. "But if that Soldier makin' process pickled your brain, or you got hit in the head too hard, I wanna know."

Cloud was silent, his pale lips a thin line, as if he had been insulted by the very thought. Barret tensed his jaw and pointed a finger at the closed door. "I ain't lettin' no one hurt Marlene, understand?"

"...Why would I hurt...Marlene?" The blond shook his head. "Soldiers don't just snap out of the blue."

Barret's finger went from the door to Cloud. "From what Tifa said, Sephiroth did."

A flash of anger, hate and fear came from those icy blue eyes. "She wasn't watching him."

"Were you?"

Cloud's eyes flitted down and moved side to side. "...Yeah."

"Well," Barret encouraged with his rough voice, "why did he snap, but you thinkin' you won't?"

A grimace passed over Cloud's face as he looked back up at Barret. A few moments of silence passed between them; he was reluctant to speak of Nibelheim, and he couldn't be blamed for it. Barret himself didn't like speaking of Corel. "...He read something under the mansion. I don't know what."

He looked down again and muttered, "he called me a traitor..."

"What could be so important underneath a mansion...?"

"You have no idea," Cloud said in an uncharacteristically clear and sharp voice. Barret eyed him, but the next moment his voice was rough and scratchy again. "Shinra crap. Anyway, we aren't mental cases."

There was a knock on the door. Barret looked towards it, then Cloud. "We'll see what we can do with yeh later." He stood up.

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Great. Just hand me your contract when you're ready," he said sarcastically.

"Jackass," Barret muttered before raising himself up to go see who was at the door. Opening it, he saw it was Tifa, holding a large bowl of watery porridge. "Can I talk to yeh for a few?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Let me feed him, first."

Tifa slipped through the threshold. After a lingering glance at the spiky headed mercenary that took interest in the brunette that came to see him, Barret turned to head off into the now empty living space. Jessie could be heard playing with Marlene in one of the bedrooms. He sat on the old, red, moth-eaten sofa that rested next to the wall opposite the lift.

His eyes caught rusted metal: that oversized kitchen knife the ex-Soldier had been lugging around with him. His mind went back to Marlene. An adult could swallow their unease, but a toddler wouldn't. Cloud looked similar to an old folklore creature that roamed Mount Corel, gaunt with eyes that could freeze one where they stood. Barret never told his daughter the tales, and with him roaming the bar he was glad he hadn't.

Barret heard feet coming closer and looked over as Tifa reclined on the other side of the couch with a weary sigh. He put his gun-arm on the arm rest, then shifted himself to look towards her more. "Your friend is gonna be a pain in the ass, I can tell yeh right now."

Quietly and without looking at him Tifa nodded, then she turned her head to look at her dark-skinned friend. "He's always been a bit of a handful."

"Huh." Barret rubbed his forehead with his thick, meaty fingers; Cloud was going to get on his nerves, he just knew it. Before he could say anything though, Tifa again spoke up. "When he gets stronger, maybe we can get him to help with our plans."

"Maybe? Tifa, he don't care about nothin' but himself!"

She pursed her lips, her eyes ruddy in the dim light as she thought it over. "Well, maybe we can hire him."

He snorted in disbelief. "Hire his scrawny ass? He owes us for bringin' him in off the streets!"

"I owe Tifa, not you," Cloud called out from behind the door.

Tifa hushed Barret, then scooted closer to whisper. "Either way, we need someone as strong as him, that knows Shinra. Someone we can trust."

"I still don't trust'em."

"Well, I do."

He wasn't sure if he believed that. She didn't sound as convinced as she should be. But, Barret was sure Cloud wasn't Shinra anymore. The sound of disgust and disregard towards his former employers was convincing enough, and he didn't seem an actor. He was most certainly ill, in more ways than one. "We'll work on our plans with the others first, then go from there."

Tifa brightened. "Sounds good."

"Just remember," Barret warned. "I don't trust his skinny ass. I'll give him a chance, but I'm gonna watch him like a goddamn hawk."

She nodded in response. "Fair enough." Tifa looked towards the door to the guest room, her gaze lingering there until she looked back at her friend. "I'm sure he'll join us eventually. After everything that happened, he would want to make Shinra hurt, too."

"Dunno 'bout that. Bet he only cares about himself," Barret grumbled. Still, whether he joined of his own volition or if he was hired for a job, Cloud would be a huge asset. "Gotta see what he's good at, besides killin' things."

"Even that would help us out," Tifa pointed out.

That was true. The slums were downright dangerous, especially outside the clusters of human settlement. Monsters and mutants roamed beneath the rotting pizza just as much as gangs and Turks did. Barret stood up. "I'll be watchin' him."

He stomped towards the lift and pressed the button to summon it. This Cloud character would change the fate of this makeshift family, for better or for worse. As he stepped next to the pinball machine, he wondered the possibilities, good and ill.