Chapter Text
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Cloud’s first thought was that this stupid town majorly sucked, his second was that his head hurt way too much for this to be a normal headache, and his third was panic. This couldn’t be happening — not here, not now.
The group had been simply walking back to Johnny’s recently renovated hotel in Costa Del Sol after going through so much toil and anguish, and although the sticky ocean weather did nothing to help with the dizziness Cloud had felt ever since he had arrived, the crowds and press of tourists did nothing to help, saying nothing of Yuffie’s loud voice.
Cloud didn’t dislike Yuffie; rather, he had grown fond of the young girl and her passionate speeches and zest for life. (He wished he still had that.) She was also a talented fighter in her own right, able to hold her own in a battle, and was proving to be a valuable asset to the team.
Cloud knew the others liked her too. Tifa laughed at her jokes, and Aerith smiled fondly when she made funny faces; Nanaki didn’t seem to mind when she absentmindedly petted him, and even Barret liked her. Because she was the youngest of the group, it was difficult for the large man to see her as anything other than a child, and Cloud privately thought that Yuffie was a bit of a stand-in for Marlene while Barret was out trying to save the planet, having to leave his young daughter behind. In Yuffie’s goofy grins and upbeat attitude, it was hard not to see some similarities between her and Marlene.
Aerith’s soft voice snapped Cloud from his thoughts.
“Cloud, are you all right?”
Cloud turned to her, finding her staring at him with concern, the flower in her hair somewhat crooked as she craned her neck to look up at his face.
That’s not right, Cloud thought. Flowers should always be perfect when they’re with Aerith.
He unconsciously raised a hand to fix the flower, not aware that his fingers were trembling.
When Cloud didn’t respond to her question, instead only reaching toward her hair with shaking fingers, a sense of deep unease flooded through Aerith. She grabbed Cloud’s hand as he touched the petals of the flower, not letting go even as he attempted to pull away from her.
“Cloud, what’s wrong?” She asked, squeezing the fingers between her hands carefully. She frowned at the heat emanating from Cloud’s skin, at his clammy palms and at the sweat that beaded his forehead. What she had at first assumed was a sunburn was, on closer inspection, the flush of a fever painting Cloud’s fair cheeks.
Cloud was slow to respond to Aerith’s voice, another cause for concern.
“. . . Aerith?”
“I’m right here, Cloud,” Aerith reassured, forcing a smile onto her face and squeezing his fingers again. “Why don’t we take a break in the shade for a bit? I feel a bit hot.”
In truth, Aerith wasn’t hot at all, but she knew that Cloud would refuse to admit to any sort of weakness; Aerith had learned over the course of their travels that Cloud would even hide severe wounds in a fear of inconveniencing the others. She felt slightly guilty about manipulating Cloud into taking a break, but better a little white lie than one of her best friends collapsed in the middle of a crowded tourist town.
And, judging by the misted glaze over Cloud’s mako-colored eyes, that was more likely to happen than not.
Cloud nodded at her, this time taking her hand and leading her to a copse of palm trees that provided plenty of shade nearby.
“Are you thirsty?” he asked, helping her sit down. “You don’t want to get dehydrated in weather like this.” He nodded once, as if deciding that the answer was yes before Aerith even had the chance to speak. “Hold on, I’ll go get some water.”
Aerith gripped Cloud’s wrist, refusing to let him leave. He looked down at her, eyes big in his pale face, and Aerith just smiled reassuringly, tugging him to her side. He practically fell to his knees, completely uncoordinated, and his nails dug into the grass where he knelt on his hands and knees, breaths coming in short little pants.
Aerith’s alarm grew.
“Cloud, are you all right?” she asked, laying a hand on his back. When he didn’t respond right away, her concern spiked. “Cloud, can you hear me?”
“Cloud? Aerith?” Another voice spoke, and Aerith whirled, ponytail whipping against her back, to find Tifa standing nearby, Nanaki sitting behind her.
“Are you okay?” Nanaki asked, padding forward until he was standing beside Tifa. “We turned around, and you two were gone.”
“Something’s wrong with Cloud,” Aerith answered. Tifa’s red-brown eyes widened in alarm, and she rushed forward, kneeling across from Aerith and laying a careful hand on Cloud’s back as well.
“Cloud?!” she cried. “Cloud, are you okay?”
Cloud groaned before his arms gave out completely and he collapsed onto the grass. He would have smacked his head open if Aerith hadn’t been expecting this and softened his fall with the palm of her hand, carefully maneuvering Cloud onto his side.
“Cloud, I need you to tell me what’s wrong,” Aerith said, her voice urgent in a way that it rarely was.
Cloud screwed his eyes shut.
“Nothin’,” he mumbled. “‘M fine.”
Aerith and Tifa exchanged exasperated looks; honestly, only Cloud would say he was fine when he was half-curled into the fetal position on the grass.
Nanaki spoke up.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, voice soft.
Aerith looked at him and smiled gratefully.
“If you could find some cold water, that would be great. Thank you, Nanaki.”
“On it!” He dashed off, some alarmed tourists yelping at the sight of an animal and scurrying away from him. Aerith felt a twinge of sadness that he wasn’t accepted here, but she smothered the feeling away, turning back to Cloud and Tifa.
Tifa had laid a hand on Cloud’s forehead, and her eyes widened. She pulled away quickly when Cloud moaned — moaned — and paled.
“He’s burning up,” Tifa said, huge eyes locked on Aerith’s face. “It’s not just from the heat, is it?”
“I doubt it,” Aerith said, reaching forward and unbuttoning Cloud’s chocobo top. Of course Cloud was wearing layers even in one of the hottest places in Gaia. When they had been in the desert, Aerith wondered how Cloud could even function in his all-black clothing, carrying that large Buster Sword everywhere. At least he wasn’t carrying that huge weapon now; it probably weighed more than her and would only make taking care of Cloud even more difficult.
“Help me get him out of his shirts, Tifa,” Aerith requested, and Cloud restlessly swatted at them as they maneuvered his outermost layer off his body.
Cloud did not like to be touched, and stiffened if anyone so much as took his hand. Everyone knew this. Tifa said he had always been that way; even as a child, he hated anyone besides his mother laying a hand on him. She had admitted to Aerith, though, that after Cloud came back to Midgar after being a SOLDIER, he seemed more averse to touch than before. She had said she figured it was probably trauma from the war, but Aerith had a much darker, much more sinister theory that she dared not speak aloud.
Cloud’s hands curled into fists, and he smacked Aerith as she pulled his undershirt over his head, leaving him shirtless. He hit her hard — he didn’t mean to, of course — but Aerith bit her lip to smother a cry of pain. That was sure to leave a bruise.
“Aerith!” Tifa cried. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Aerith said, running a hand over her leg. “It’ll leave a bruise, but nothing a Potion can’t fix.”
Tifa nodded, then looked down at Cloud, who was breathing harshly, eyes screwed shut, flinching away from the slightest touch.
“Do you think a Potion would help Cloud?” she asked, voice filled with tentative hope.
Aerith sighed, shaking her head.
“I don’t even know what’s wrong with him,” she said. “He isn’t hurt — at least anywhere on his torso or abdomen — and if he’s not hurt, then a Potion wouldn’t help him at all.”
Tifa blinked in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Potions are for healing physical wounds,” Aerith explained. “They won’t do any good if he’s ill or. . .” She paused and licked her lips. “If this is a symptom of cellular degradation.”
Tifa stiffened, desperately wanting to run her hands through Cloud’s hair, but stopping because she knew it would only upset him further. With every passing day, the knot in Tifa’s heart tightened as Cloud seemed to slip further and further away from her. Her childhood friend, one of the people she trusted the most in the world, was becoming someone she did not recognize. And that frightened her more than she could say.
She swallowed down her feelings and looked back up at Aerith.
“What about an Elixir?” she asked. “Or an Antidote?”
Aerith shook her head again.
“An Elixir is essentially the same as a Potion,” she said. “And an Antidote would only work if he’s been poisoned.” Aerith frowned and lifted one of Cloud’s eyelids, examining his pupil. Cloud made a small noise of protest and tried to swat her away, but Aerith pulled away before his hit could land. “He isn’t showing any signs of being poisoned,” she said.
Tifa frowned.
“What if it’s mako po—”
“It can’t be,” Aerith said. She shook her head. “Or at least it shouldn’t be. Mako poisoning usually only occurs when someone is completely soaked in pure, unconcentrated mako. And we haven’t even been near so much as a Lifestream in the past two weeks.” She sighed and looked up at Tifa. “Besides, an Antidote wouldn’t even touch mako poisoning symptoms. If Antidotes did anything to help, do you think so many SOLDIERs would be wandering around in those black robes, muttering about Reunion?”
Tifa paled.
“You don’t think they’re SOLDIERs, do you?” she asked, alarmed. “You’ve never said that before.”
“That’s because I didn’t want to scare Cloud,” Aerith said. “Though I don’t know many SOLDIERs personally, I did grow up in Shinra’s labs; I know a few faces.” She sighed. “I remember talking to one of them when I was a little girl and saying how pretty his eyes were. He smiled at me and gave me a piece of candy, though I never learned his name.” A troubled, sad look crossed her face. “The truth is, I saw him again just outside of Cosmo Canyon, but this time he was wearing a black robe and muttering the same jibberish as all the others.” She looked unbearably sad. “If an Antidote could have helped him, I would have given him one right then and there.” She sighed. “It probably wasn’t mako poisoning, though; more likely it’s cellular degradation causing the symptoms showing up in the Black-Robed Men.”
Tifa didn’t know what to say; she knew Aerith had spent most of her childhood in Shinra’s labs, but the girl didn’t talk about it often. It had never even occurred to Tifa that Aerith had probably come across more than one SOLDIER during her time there; after all, Hojo and his researchers weren’t Shinra’s only employees.
And Aerith had always been friendly. The first time Tifa had met her, the other girl was ready to do anything to stop Don Corneo from having anything to do with her, even though they hadn’t even known each other. Cloud had later told Tifa that he had met Aerith in Midgar, where she had given him a flower from her garden, all smiles and kindness surrounded by the dirty, polluted skies of Midgar. Tifa was sure that same bright girl was just as friendly as a child, maybe even more so, eager to offer smiles and easy laughter to those around her.
“I’m sorry, Aerith,” Tifa said, voice quiet. “That must have been awful.”
Aerith hummed.
“It was,” she answered, “but there’s nothing I can do for him now that he’s like that. His mind is gone.”
Tifa looked at Cloud, who had now curled himself completely into the fetal position, and felt tears sting her eyes.
“Do you think. . .?” she said, leaving the sentence unfinished. She feared if she said the words aloud, they would come true.
“I don’t know,” Aerith answered truthfully. “Cloud is very strong, but. . .” She sighed. “He’s been getting worse. He forgets things so easily these days and sometimes remembers them completely wrong.”
Tifa nodded, this time daring to lay her hand in Cloud’s messy blonde hair. Cloud tensed for a moment before relaxing, a breathy little sigh escaping his dry and cracked lips.
Aerith unexpectedly giggled, and Tifa looked up at her, surprised.
“What is it?” she asked.
“He really is like a chocobo,” the other girl replied, stifling her laugh behind her hand. “Calming down the moment you pet his head.”
At this, Tifa smiled, recalling how Cloud took the chance at every Chocobo Stop to pet the baby chocobos, all the while grimacing in annoyance when any of the girls pointed out his chocobo-like hair.
“Aerith! Tifa!” a voice called, and both girls turned even as Cloud winced, disliking how loud the sound was.
The girls looked up to see Nanaki returning, Barret and Yuffie nipping at his heels. Nanaki was carrying a few water bottles in his mouth, and Barret had spare beach towels thrown over his shoulder and gun arm, all of these clearly for Cloud, while Yuffie stood slightly behind, her hands full of rapidly melting ice cream cones, her brown eyes wide with surprise.
Aerith suddenly remembered that they had been on the way to get ice cream after their time on the beach when Cloud started to feel unwell. Yuffie and Barret had likely not noticed how the others had fallen behind, busy as they were bickering, with Barret making sure Yuffie didn’t spend all their gil on ice cream.
Nanaki must have told them something was wrong while he was searching for water bottles, and they had come running.
The ice cream dripped from Yuffie’s fingers, landing on the sun-scorched cobblestones, but she paid it no heed, only watching as her friends surrounded Cloud, who was lying shirtless and curled into a ball in the grass.
Nanaki deposited the water bottles at Aerith’s side as Barret rushed forward with the beach towels, grabbing one of the water bottles and immediately dampening one of the towels with cool water, trying (and failing) to get a response from Cloud.
Tifa had her hand in Cloud’s stupid chocobo hair, but otherwise was refraining from touching him, as if worried her touch would hurt him.
Yuffie watched in confusion, heedless of the mess that covered her fingers.
As a ninja, if you were hurt, you were generally left to fend for yourself. Ninjas usually went on solo missions, and Yuffie had sewed herself up more times than she could count. There were exceptions to this, of course, and Yuffie recalled her time with Sonon with a sharp pang before shoving it away.
Sonon wasn’t here anymore, but the others were, huddled around Cloud, voices quiet but urgent and worried.
Yuffie liked Cloud. He was like a weird big brother, so serious and morose most of the time, but protective and caring when push came to shove. He stood in front of her in battles, despite the fact that Yuffie’s shuriken was a long-range weapon that could do damage without any enemies ever getting close to her. It was most likely a SOLDIER’s reflexes, protecting those with long-range attacks and being prepared to fight anyone who got too close, but Cloud was always doing it, even with Barret and Nanaki.
He was a good person, even if he didn’t think he was.
Yuffie watched, silent, as Aerith took the damp towel from Barret and folded it up so it would be smaller before laying it across Cloud’s forehead.
At the touch of the cool water, Cloud’s eyes shot open, and Yuffie nearly took a step back in alarm. His pupils were blown wide in his blue eyes, black nearly swallowing the glow of mako. He tossed his head, trying to dislodge the wet towel, but Tifa and Aerith kept it in place, their hands faster than any movement Cloud could manage.
“Shh, Cloud, it’s all right,” Tifa murmured. “You’re all right.”
“It’s just water, Cloud,” Aerith added. “It’s just water. You’re safe.”
Cloud relaxed only marginally, but Yuffie could see that most of his muscles were still drawn taut, like a bow ready to fire.
“He feels like a freakin’ furnace,” Barret said, laying a hand briefly on Cloud’s cheek. He was so gentle, so careful, like Cloud was a child and not a hardened SOLDIER. Yuffie briefly wondered if this was what he was like with his daughter before shoving the thought away. At last, she focused on the situation at hand, though she stayed where she was standing.
“Does he have a fever?” she asked, concern lacing her voice despite her attempts to hide it.
“I think so,” Aerith answered, taking another wet towel from Barret and laying it on the back of Cloud’s neck. This time Cloud did not fight her, only a tiny sound of discomfort leaving his lips.
“Do you want me to get a doctor?” Yuffie asked. She knew Aerith could heal with a prayer, and there were materia and potions that could help, but the sight of Aerith simply laying wet towels across Cloud’s face and neck was a sign that something was seriously wrong. Curatives and even a healing spell wouldn’t do anything to help right now.
Aerith turned to Yuffie, opening her mouth to answer, but Barret cut her off before she could speak.
“A doctor? In this shit town?” He scoffed, waving an arm at the well-dressed tourists and townspeople. “Gettin’ a doctor here would cost more gil than the Gold Saucer makes in a month.”
Tifa sighed.
“Barret’s right,” she said. “Besides, we don’t even know what’s wrong with Cloud. It could just be heat exhaustion.” Even as she said the words, the others knew it wasn’t true. This was something far more serious.
No one spoke for a moment before Barret groaned and ran a hand down his face.
“Well, we can’t just leave the merc half-naked in the grass,” he said. “First things first, we head back to that tacky hotel we’re staying in and get ‘im in bed.”
Yuffie popped up behind Barret’s shoulder, having reappeared after throwing away the uneaten ice cream cones. She licked her sticky fingers as she looked down at Cloud.
“Yeah, but I don’t think Blondie’s gonna be walking anywhere,” she said, her voice so close to Barret’s ear that he startled and jumped back with a swear.
“For gods’ sake, Yuffie, I told ya to stop sneakin’ around like that!”
Yuffie smiled innocently at Barret, her eyes sparkling.
“Not my fault you can’t hear me coming,” she said with a wink. “You’re an old man, after all.”
Barret flushed red; he hated being called old. He was only 35! And he wasn’t even the oldest one in the group; the damn dog was literally years older than him. Barret pointed a finger at Yuffie.
“Listen here, you—!”
“Barret, Yuffie, focus, please.” Nanaki’s voice cut off the impending argument, and he dipped his head back at Cloud. “We need to figure out what to do next.”
“That’s easy!” Yuffie said, completely ignoring Barret and rocking on her heels as she looked down at Cloud’s sweat-soaked skin. “We just take Cloud back to Johnny’s — like Barret said — and then ask Johnny to find a doctor!”
There was silence for a moment, no one speaking, before Tifa sighed heavily and moved her hand from Cloud’s hair to the back of his neck, keeping the wet towel in place. She shook her head at Yuffie.
“Johnny’s done a good job turning things around for himself, but he doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to making friends.”
Barret snorted.
“You can say that again.”
“My point is that any doctor or medical help Johnny can find will probably be. . .” Tifa trailed off, searching for the right word.
“Sketchy?” Yuffie supplied, and when Tifa nodded, the younger girl just shrugged.
“So what?” she said. “This whole mission has been sketchy. Pretty sure some of the places we’ve stayed in were beyond sketchy. Johnny isn’t the worst thing we’ve come across.” Yuffie tapped her chin. “Actually, I’d put him on the bottom of the threat list.”
“Yeah, well, I still don’t trust ‘im,” Barret said.
“I don’t think we really have a choice anymore,” Aerith said. She pulled the wet towel away from Cloud’s forehead, hiding her concern that it had warmed against his skin so quickly. “We’ll go back to Johnny’s.”
“Aerith—” Barret began, frustrated, but the girl overrode him.
“I’ll try to do what I can to help tonight,” she said, “but if Cloud doesn’t get any better by tomorrow or starts getting worse, then we’ll have to ask Johnny to get a doctor.”
Barret sighed, annoyed that no one was apparently listening to anything he said, and ran his hand down his face again, nearly knocking his sunglasses off.
“Fine,” he relented, and looked back down at Cloud, who had gone strangely still, eyes still screwed shut and breaths coming in sharp pants. His lightly freckled skin was soaked in sweat, and the wet towels seemed to have done little to help cool him down.
Nanaki nuzzled Cloud’s elbow, and the boy barely moved at the touch. Barret looked at Aerith, who seemed troubled by this — she knew as well as he did how much Cloud despised unexpected touch. The way he was barely reacting to it now was a very, very bad sign.
“Cloud,” Aerith said, leaning forward. “Cloud, can you hear me?”
No response, and Nanaki nudged Cloud’s elbow a bit harder, wet nose rubbing against too-hot skin. Cloud still didn’t react, his arm simply slumping down his side, hand hitting the grass palm-up. Aerith took his wrist, feeling the slightly too-slow beats even as Cloud continued to pant, as if he wasn’t getting enough air.
Aerith’s alarm spiked. A slow heart rate combined with Cloud’s rapid breathing was a sign he needed urgent medical attention. At this rate, it was becoming less and less likely that Aerith could care for Cloud at Johnny’s hotel without someone to help her.
Keeping one hand on Cloud’s wrist, still feeling his pulse, Aerith laid her other hand on Cloud’s cheek; he didn’t move away from her, but his eyelashes fluttered, eyes opening half-mast and settling on something far away. Aerith leaned forward, trying to capture Cloud’s attention, but it was like Cloud was looking right through her.
“Cloud,” she said, rubbing a comforting circle on his cheek, “Cloud, sunshine, can you look at me?”
The others were slightly startled at the term of endearment, but Tifa didn’t seem perturbed. Instead, she only smiled, faint and small, as she pulled the now-warm towel from Cloud’s neck. It wasn’t odd to her that Aerith had a nickname for Cloud; they all did, really, but most of the nicknames- Merc, ex-SOLDIER, Spikey, Chocobo-head — were references either to Cloud’s occupation or appearance. There were virtually none that described his personality, and Tifa’s smile widened a bit at Aerith’s choice of nickname.
Sunshine.
That wasn’t a word she would use to describe Cloud. She had grown up with him, after all, and knew him better than anyone else in the group. He had been a serious and shy kid, always keeping to himself even during recess. When all the other kids were playing soccer, Cloud was sitting all by himself on the swingset. If the others were on the swing, Cloud was by himself with a soccer ball. He was a loner, unless Tifa invited him to play. Then Cloud would join, a tiny little smile on his face. No matter how much Cloud claimed to enjoy being alone, Tifa knew he wanted to be included like all the others.
Aerith’s voice snapped Tifa out of her memories.
“Cloud,” Aerith repeated, moving both of her hands to cup Cloud’s cheeks and angling his head so she was directly in his line of sight. “Cloud, I need you to look at me.”
Cloud’s eyelashes fluttered, and for a moment, he seemed to see Aerith, lips forming her name, before his breath caught in his throat and he fell into an ugly coughing fit. He almost immediately lost consciousness, head lolling limply in Aerith’s hands.
“Oh, Cloud,” she breathed. After checking his pulse to be sure he was still relatively stable, Aerith turned and looked up at Barret. “We need to get him back to Johnny’s. We can’t stay here anymore.”
“Aerith’s right,” Nanaki said. He dipped his head towards the bustling roads of Costa Del Sol. “People have noticed us.”
Barret turned, scowling, to see that a small group of concerned citizens had gathered nearby, whispering amongst themselves. They were close enough to see that something was wrong, but luckily could not see much of Cloud, who lay unconscious and feverish in the grass. One bystander seemed to finally find the courage to speak and took a step forward.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, trying to crane his neck to see Cloud; Barret instinctively moved to block his view. “We saw a girl and a boy over here earlier, and the boy seemed to not be doing very well in the heat.” He held out a water bottle. “It gets really hot here in Costa Del Sol during the summer; you have to be careful not to overexert yourself.”
Barret snatched the water bottle from the stranger’s hands, tossing it to Yuffie, who caught it easily and handed it to Tifa. She murmured her thanks, her hand returning to Cloud’s hair and fiddling with the fair blonde strands with her fingers.
“Thanks, we’ve got it from here,” Barret said gruffly, and the stranger blinked before nodding and rejoining the group of bystanders. Barret’s patience was running thin — he could hear Cloud breathing harshly behind him, the girls’ comforting voices, and knew they had to get Cloud out of here and into a bed as quickly as possible. But with all these people watching. . .
Yuffie dashed past him and into the group of bystanders, snatching a woman’s materia-laden bracelet in her hand. She held it above her head, laughing.
“Hey! That’s my bracelet!” the woman cried. “Thief! Give it back!”
Yuffie stuck out her tongue at the woman and juggled the bracelet nimbly between her hands, the materia glinting in the summer sun.
“You want it?” she teased. “Come and get it!”
She winked at Barret before dashing off, the crowd rushing after her, cries of “Thief!” and “Stop her!” echoing throughout the streets.
Barret ran his hand down his face again. A distraction was what they needed, but if Yuffie got herself caught, he didn’t know if they had the gil to bail her out of jail.
“Lil’ idiot,” he muttered before turning back to the others. He knelt at Aerith’s side, and the girl blinked at him with wide green eyes, clearly confused as to what had just happened.
“The brat bought us some time to get outta here,” Barret explained simply. “Now, I know none of ya are strong enough to carry this merc; he might look like a baby Chocobo, but he sure as hell weighs near as much as a grown one. So I’ll take ‘im to Johnny’s.” He looked between Aerith and Tifa. “How do you want me to carry ‘im? Over my shoulder?”
Aerith blinked a few times before she shook her head.
“No, his breathing is too irregular for him to be held that way. Can you carry him in your arms?”
Barret turned slightly green.
“Ya mean like a bridal carry?”
Aerith laughed, and Tifa giggled behind her hand.
“Don’t think of it like that,” Tifa said. “Think about it. . . like you’re carrying Marlene or a baby.”
Barret’s expression soured, his heart twisting at the reminder of his daughter.
“Marlene likes to sit on my shoulder,” he said. “She don’ like to be carried. Last time I carried her in my arms, she was sick somethin’ fierce, and she’s tiny enough to fit in the crook of my arm.”
“Well, I would say Cloud is. . . sick something fierce,” Aerith said, parroting Barret’s words. “I know he’s bigger than Marlene, but we can help get him situated, right, Tifa?”
“Right!”
Barret groaned; there was no arguing with these two when they made up their mind about something.
“Fine,” he said, “but my metal arm isn’t gonna be comfy for ‘im.”
Tifa laughed, though the sound was slightly forced.
“At least it’s not the Gatling gun,” she said, dipping her head at the industrial metal naval-style arm.
Barret rolled his eyes.
“This ‘ere is my least favorite arm,” he mumbled. He wasted no more time with jokes, instead focusing on the task at hand. “Make sure ‘is legs are on my right arm,” he said. “Don’t want that spikey head to get all bumped up.”
The girls laughed again and helped transfer the far too pliant Cloud into Barret’s waiting arms. Barret was right about Cloud’s weight; despite being relatively small for his age, he was all muscle.
“Damn, merc, how do you weigh this much?” Barret mumbled. “You hardly eat a thing.”
“You okay?” Tifa asked, and Barret nodded, readjusting Cloud in his arms to get a better grip. He held him tightly under the shoulders, Cloud’s feet dangling over the metal of his prosthetic arm.
As he adjusted Cloud in his arms, Cloud’s head dropped backwards, his breathing immediately worsening, and Aerith rushed forward, gently maneuvering Cloud’s head so it was resting over Barret’s chest.
“Please be careful with him, Barret,” Aerith said, smoothing Cloud’s sweat-soaked hair away from his face. She looked troubled. “He’s too weak to keep himself up.”
Barret didn’t need the reminder, but he let Aerith speak nonetheless. The moment Cloud’s head had lolled backwards, exposing the pale skin of his neck, Barret had frozen, listening to the panting wheezes escaping the kid’s lips.
It reminded him of way back in Corel, in the days that Marlene had first been born. Myrna had, of course, been the first to hold her (outside of her parents), and she had handed the tiny pink-blanketed bundle to Barret, who had sat there sweating buckets. What if he dropped her or his huge hands accidentally smashed her? What if—
Myrna had laughed at him, telling him to relax and just hold out his arms.
Back then, Marlene had been small enough to fit in Barret’s hands, but he did as his wife instructed him and held out his arms for the baby.
Myrna laid Marlene gently in his arms, and her words were as reassuring and warm as the infant against his chest.
“There you go, Barret, good job. Make sure to support her head; her neck isn’t strong enough to hold it up yet.”
And Barret had readjusted his hold on Marlene just as Myrna instructed, falling even more in love with her as he held onto his best friend’s daughter.
Barret had always wanted kids, and now, holding onto a tiny bundle of joy and staring at his wife, he wanted one even more.
But life was cruel.
Myrna had died before they could start a family, and Marlene’s parents were dead before she was old enough to even remember them. In a wicked twist of fate, Barret had rescued Marlene before she was killed and took her away from the smoking ruins of Corel, the mantra “Make sure to support her head” echoing in Barret’s mind.
When Cloud’s head dropped across his arm, the kid too weak to even hold up his own head, Myrna’s words repeated themselves. He spoke aloud before he could stop himself.
“Make sure to support her neck,” he murmured, and Aerith and Tifa blinked at him before Aerith smiled sadly, immediately noticing Barret was trapped in some kind of memory.
“Yes, Cloud is rather like a newborn babe right now,” she said. “You’re right, Barret, you should support his neck.”
Barret nodded, clearly still lost in memories of the past, and slowly got to his feet, Cloud cradled carefully against his chest. His breaths came in short, sharp pants against Barret’s chest, and the girls watched as Cloud’s hands curled into small fists before dropping limply into his lap.
They sighed, concerned, and nodded at Barret.
“I’ll lead the way,” Tifa said. “Aerith, you stay with Barret and keep an eye on Cloud. We’ll stop if anything changes.”
Aerith nodded in agreement.
“Got it,” she said.
“All right,” Tifa said, pulling her ponytail a bit tighter. “Let’s get going, then.”
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