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Chapter Text

Raised by Wolves— Chapter I: In Which Things Begin Again

Cloud stared out across the wasteland, dust swirling around his feet. It had been over fifty years since the Remnants had been defeated and the Geostigma had been purged by Aerith’s rain.  Almost everyone from Cloud’s old life was dead. Marlene and Denzel were in their sixties now with kids who were full-grown. Tifa, Barrett, Cid, and Yuffie had long since grown old and died, their kids living their own lives with families of their own. Rufus, Rino, Rude, Tseng, and Elena combined with Reeve Tuesti and began the laborious process of changing the remains of the company. Their descendants had managed to finish turning Shinra around, making it into Neo-Shinra. It was the time of the next generation.

Cloud, however, hadn’t aged a day. He, Vincent, and Shelke had watched the world pass them by, growing and changing while they themselves were trapped in the same bodies that they’d begun their journey with. Nanaki still aged, but as with his race, he aged infinitely slower and kept them company as he watched the world change and grow alongside them. 

The blond hero often found himself wondering if their bodies would even be able to enter the Lifestream, after all of the things that Hojo had done to them. One would think that it would have an adverse effect. Although, Kadaj and his brothers had had no trouble dissolving into the Lifestream; they had been clones as well, albeit of a slightly different kind.

Cloud sighed, a light breath of air ghosting through his pale lips. He was so, so tired. He wanted to rest, to die out with the rest of his friends. He wanted to be welcomed into the Lifestream, to see Zack and Aerith and Tifa and all the others that had left the Planet’s surface. He wanted his own happy ending, not to be forever trapped in a body that was far too durable and that perpetually looked as though he was in his early twenties. He didn’t want to look at the world, hearing the Planet’s whispers and being reminded of all his failures, all of the things he couldn’t stop from happening. He was tired of feeling guilty. Tired of feeling both too much and too little. 

He wanted to rest, to fall into oblivion. To cease existing.

And yet…

He knew. He knew that his friends wouldn’t want him to do that. Planet, if Tifa knew half of what he’d really been thinking all these years, she’d have beaten him to a pulp…

“Stop running!” 
“Dilly dally, shilly shally. Isn’t it time you did the forgiving?”
“I’ve never tried.”
“Forget it, Cloud! Why don’t you ever pay any attention to us?!”

Cloud smiled slightly at the memories, closing his eyes. 

I’m so tired.

A gentle breath of wind. The rustling of flowers. The smell of growing things and loamy soil.

Aerith…

Cloud opened his eyes slowly, taking in the field of yellow and white flowers. He stood still for a moment, just taking everything in and relaxing.

“And here you are again. Really, what are we to do with you?” 

A familiar gentle, teasing voice. He turned slightly.

“Aerith,” he said, taking in the pink dress, the auburn hair, and the soft green eyes.

“Hello, Cloud. You look like you’re about to break again,” she said softly, her eyes understanding.

Cloud didn’t reply, just looked at her. And then he did something he hadn’t before: he flopped onto the ground, hands resting behind his head as he lay amongst the flowers. 

“Seems that way… And yet, I can’t die. Not me. Not Vincent. Not Shelke.”

“Some people would kill for that you know,” joined in a new voice, light and teasing.

Cloud’s eyes widened, startled. He shot up and looked over towards Aerith.

“Zack?” he said hesitantly, not believing his eyes; he hadn’t seen or heard Zack since the stigma incident…

“Yup,” said the dark-haired SOLDIER with an easy grin. “You look like shit, Spiky,” he added, crossing over to Cloud and dropping into a cross-legged seat in front of the blond.

“Thanks,” Cloud said wryly, a small grin spreading across his lips as he looked at Zack, blue eyes lightening at the sight of his old friend.

“You're looking depressed again lately," Zack said seriously, reaching out and flicking Cloud's forehead.

Cloud yelped, more surprised than pained, a smile working its way onto his face at Zack's actions, still so reminiscent of when Cloud had been a trooper. 

“I'm just tired, Zack. And I miss you all," Cloud tried to explain, giving a wan smile as Zack and Aerith looked at each other, an unreadable look passing between the two.

"I bet you don't miss this," Zack abruptly smirked, tackling Cloud and trapping the blond's head underneath his arm and ruffling the spikes mercilessly.

"Zack! Knock it off!" Cloud tried to yell, his voice strained as he struggled to pull himself out of Zack's arms. 

Eventually, he succeeded, falling back clumsily as Zack abruptly released him. Hearing muffled giggles, he looked up and over to where Aerith had been standing. She was now sitting, her knees and feet tucked beneath her, and her pink dress arranged modestly around her legs. She was giggling, a hand raised to cover her mouth. Her braid and pink ribbon swayed as she attempted to suppress her laughter. Cloud smiled at the sight.

“Hah! Told you I’d get him to smile within five minutes!” exclaimed Zack, fist pumping the air in victory.

“What?” asked Cloud, frowning slightly.

“Time for your reward then,” said Aerith lightly, leaning over and pecking Zack softly on the lips. 

Zack grinned. “I’ve got the best girlfriend in all of Gaea!” he said, his broad grin practically splitting his face, the scar on his face shifting at the movement, “Or should I say ‘Lifestream’...?” wondered Zack, scratching his head thoughtfully.

Cloud rolled his eyes, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

“Aerith, Zack. Why am I here?” he finally asked.

Zack and Aerith shared a look, falling silent, expressions serious.

“You’re not… happy, are you Cloud?” it was phrased as a question, though they all knew the answer. “You haven’t been for a long time…” continued Aerith, looking at him with her soft green, Cetra eyes.

Cloud opened his mouth, then paused to think, frowning. When was the last time he was happy?

“I… I don’t know. I’m not really sure. I’ve felt… content, comfortable. Most of my memories are still kind of hazy… I think when I went on that mission with you was probably it, before all the bad stuff happened,” Cloud said hesitantly, “There have been a few times since.”

Zack face-palmed. “What about when you were a kid?” he asked.

Cloud shrugged. “I don’t really remember much, but most of what I do remember isn’t exactly…happy,” he said ruefully. Vague memories of name-calling and being shoved around briefly flickered through his mind.

Zack frowned. “What about your family?”

“Just my mom and I.”

“Friends?”

“None.”

“Wait, what about Tifa?” asked Zack, brows furrowed.

Cloud sighed. “Hadn’t I ever mentioned any of this to you?”

“Nope,” said Zack with a frown, “Not a word.”

Cloud gave a thoughtful hum, wondering how to explain.

“So?” prodded Zack, nudging Cloud’s arm.

“Tifa… was the mayor’s daughter and the prettiest girl in town. She was popular, and I never really met up with her except for right before I left to join SOLDIER,” explained Cloud.

“Oh,” was Zack’s intelligent reply. He didn’t know what else to say. Spiky didn’t seem to have great childhood; sounded like the polar opposite of what his had been, in fact.

“Cloud?” Aerith’s voice broke through Cloud’s conflicting thoughts, brought on by Zack’s questions.

The blond looked at her, his blue eyes old and tired and so deeply sad that Aerith felt her heart clench. 

“He’s been through so much, and yet he’ll still—” 

“Cloud, the Planet. You can tell, can’t you? That she is struggling, weak and sick? You can hear it…” she said, clasping her hands in her lap. 

Zack moved to sit next to her, placing his hand on top of hers in a silent show of support. He knew how much it hurt her, how much it hurt them both, to have to tell Cloud what was going to happen.

“The Planet is dying, Cloud. Too much has happened to it. Having to cure the geostigma took its toll. It added to the damage already done by ShinRa, Meteor, and Sephiroth. The Planet will start failing within the next few years,” said Aerith quietly, taking a deep breath.

“It’s…dying?” questioned Cloud, “Then what did we all fight for?” he asked himself quietly, dropping his spiky blond head onto his knees, looking very much like an overwhelmed child.

“But! There’s good news! And bad news,” added Zack, dropping a hand onto Cloud’s lowered head and ruffling the soft golden hair, for a moment marveling at how soft it was before Cloud automatically knocked his hand away.

Cloud lifted his head slightly, just enough to look over at Zack. He raised an eyebrow at the Soldier First, silently asking. Zack laughed.

“Y’see, there’s a way to… fix it, I guess you could say. But you aren’t going to like it,” warned Zack.

“I never do,” Cloud pointed out, a wry smile twisting his lips; Zack winced, but continued his explanation. 

“The Planet has enough energy to rewind the events that happened, but let your memories of this time stay with you. You won’t have the enhancements that you have now, but I think the Planet has something planned to make things a bit easier, though I’m not sure what. That part went way over my head,” explained Zack, rubbing the back of his neck.

“How far back will I be sent?” Cloud asked, wondering if he’d be sent back far enough to prevent what happened to Vincent.

Zack seemed to know what he was thinking and shook his head ruefully, “Sorry Cloud. You’ll be sent back to your child years, I think. I’m not sure exactly what age you’ll be, but you’ll be back in Nibelheim as a kid,” he said apologetically.

“And that’s why you asked about my childhood so suddenly,” muttered Cloud.

“I’m sorry, Cloud. I tried to get Her to do something else, but—” Aerith started.

Cloud waved her off, giving her a small smile. He released his knees and flopped back spread-eagled into the flowers and closed his eyes with a small sigh, enjoying the momentary peace he felt.

Zack and Aerith looked at each other, then at Cloud. He looked more relaxed than he had for many years now. His eyes were closed, and the lines around his mouth, eyes, and brow were smoothed out, making him look years younger. His ever-present frown followed the lines and disappeared as well.

“When and how is it going to start?” Cloud asked, eyes still closed and posture still relaxed.

“Well…”

Aerith and Zack looked at each other. 

“In a few moments, actually. The Lifestream will take you,” said Zack sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head again.

“What—” Cloud started, eyes snapping open and his body shooting upright. 

As he stared at Aerith and Zack, he felt a tug. His eyes widened further.

“Wait—!” he began, “I’m not—!”

And then he was surrounded by swirling green. His memories began flickering by him, a confusing myriad of images that hardly made sense as they moved backwards at a blurring speed. 

At first, Cloud didn’t feel anything, aside from a slight nausea from the moving images. Gradually, he lost his sense of body, feeling nothing but an odd rushing sensation much like when he stood up too fast. There was no pain at first. But Cloud slowly became aware of a swelling noise that wasn’t noise. His conscious was abruptly seized from all sides, pulled and twisted until it felt like every piece of his mind was being ripped and torn to shreds. If Cloud had a mouth and vocal cords he would have been screaming in agony. As it was, he could only endure, hoping desperately for the Lifestream to finish with him. After a time of excruciating pain, his consciousness waned and he felt nothing at all.

Chapter Text

When he came into awareness again, the first thing Cloud noticed was the cold. He was lying on what felt like cold, damp stone. The air was crisp and felt like snow, chilling him even more. A shiver ran through his body, forcing him to open his eyes and become aware of the pain his body was currently in. It felt like he’d taken a rather thorough beating. 

A quick survey of his body showed that that was indeed the case. His torso, legs, and arms were littered with bruises and scrapes. Cloud reached up with small, childlike hands to feel his sore forehead; there was a small gash there over his eyebrow, bleeding sluggishly. Cloud blinked. And blinked again.

Childlike hands?

Cloud stumbled to his feet and looked down at his body. Short, scrawny legs were attached to a bony waist and thin chest. Equally small arms, corded with light muscle, went uncovered aside from a leather cuff and cheap, braided wire bracelets that hid his fragile wrists. Small hands reached up and felt his face, fingers tracing over soft features. Cloud knew that if he looked in a mirror, he would see a pair of large, sky blue eyes without the taint of mako. 

The blond, newly-made-child took a deep breath and let it out shakily in a steady stream. The frigid air washed his lungs with cold, bringing his attention to his surroundings. Large blue eyes flicked around uncertainly. It was late in the evening, the shadows deep and long. The old, weathered buildings and cobbled streets looked eerily familiar…

Cloud’s eyes widened in recognition and sudden clarity of memory. He was in the past. He was in the past in a child’s beaten up body with memories from the future. And he was back in Nibelheim, the place where everything started. 

Cloud felt like throwing up. He pressed his now small hands to his mouth in an effort to keep from making any noise and from throwing up whatever food he must’ve had that day. 

“Oh, Gaea,” he thought, “I don’t have anything or anyone to count on here. No one from this time knows me, and I don’t have First Tsurugi or Fenrir. Ifrit! I don’t even have a materia bracer, assuming I could find materia in the first place!”

A body a little over four feet tall with no mako in its system and no weapons whatsoever; Cloud had never in his life felt so defenseless. 

To Cloud’s horror and consternation, silent tears had begun to stream down his face, his new body unaccustomed to the torrential amount of depressing thoughts and feelings that were flooding through him. The boy took another deep breath of cool air in an effort to calm himself and hiccupped. 

First thing’s first: he needed to figure out what the date was and what was going on in the world outside Nibelheim. And it wouldn’t hurt to find out how old he was (or how young).

As Cloud started walking in the direction of his childhood home, swiping away remnants of the tears that were still trying to flow, he suddenly remembered a very important detail:

His mother was alive.

Cloud was running before he’d completed the thought.

He was now standing outside the door to his house, memories washing over him as he panted, trying to catch his breath. He winced with each inhalation. He’d forgotten that his ribs were rather thoroughly bruised. Cloud briefly wondered who’d administered the kicks. Memories from his childhood were slowly surfacing, triggered by the familiar sights, smells, and sounds. If what he remembered was correct, the beating would have most likely been administered by Kelle Benson and his two sidekicks, Shan and Mikael Wetherly.

After a few moments of deep, calming breaths, Cloud pushed open the door and entered the house. 

“Cloud! There you are! I was getting worried,” said a relieved voice.

Cloud nearly choked as his mother came towards him. Soft, golden blonde hair the same shade as Cloud’s was tied in a loose braid that draped over her shoulder. Her dark blue eyes were framed with laugh lines. What must have once been skin as pale and smooth as her son’s was now lightly tanned and slightly weathered from years of living in the harsh shadow of the Nibel Mountains. Her light pink lips were parted in resigned surprise at her child’s beaten up condition.

Cloud swallowed, and then opened his mouth. “H-hey, mom,” he said quietly.

“Oh, Cloud,” she said, quickly striding over to her frozen-in-place son. “What happened this time?” she asked gently, dropping down gracefully onto her knees in front of her son as she quickly took stock of his injuries. “At least nothing’s broken this time,” she murmured, wrapping her arms carefully around her son and picking him up, ignoring the boy’s yelp of surprise.

Cloud didn’t say anything more, just locked his arms around his mother. His living, breathing mother. 

“I’m sorry, mom,” he said, burying his face into the crook of his mom’s neck. He was so sorry, for everything. For not being strong enough to stop Sephiroth, for not being strong enough to protect Zack, for not being strong enough to remember who he really was. For not even being able to keep his child’s promise to Tifa. 

Elle Strife hugged her child a bit closer and said, “Hush. There is nothing to be sorry for. Now, let’s go patch you up,” she continued, smiling down cheerfully at the blonde spikes.

A few hours later, Cloud was tucked into bed, bandaged and filled with the dinner his mother had cooked. Cloud hadn’t felt so content in a long time; he’d had no trouble downing the food. His mother’s cooking was just as good as he remembered. Cloud smiled, still feeling the kiss his mom had placed on his brow after tucking him in.

It felt a bit strange, he reflected, to be tucked in by his mother. After all, mentally he was well over sixty years old. Now, his body was roughly around six or eight, though he was leaning more towards eight. 

The man-turned-boy looked around his room, vaguely starting to recall the items there. A stick sat leaning in the corner against the wall. Cloud had a few tenuous memories of running around the mountains by himself, swinging that stick around as though it was a sword. Rather embarrassing, now that he thought about it. 

The walls of the room were plain, unadorned aside from a single calendar that was hanging next to the door. Cloud looked at it a moment, and then pushed back the quilts and clambered down from his bed, almost silently. He went to the calendar to check the year and month. He blinked in surprise. 

Eight years old. Unbelievable. Cloud turned and went to his window, avoiding the few wooden toys on the floor; he’d need to pick those up. The boy put a hand against the window and pushed it open, allowing the cool air to sweep in, ruffling his hair. 

Tifa would be seven years old now, Cloud mused. Her mother would die soon and Tifa would try to cross the bridge to make it over the mountains to a mother that wouldn’t be there, no matter how much she wished. And Cloud would follow her, trying to convince her not to. And as they would cross the bridge, it would collapse. Cloud would carry Tifa all the way back. And, Cloud just recalled, the villagers would blame him for Tifa getting hurt, making his already hard life even harder. 

The eight year old sighed.

“I’ll deal with that when I get to it,” Cloud thought, a yawn nearly cracking his small jaw. “And I’ll need to start building up this body, making it stronger. Maybe Vincent will help me, once I release him,” he continued, abruptly remembering that Vincent was still in the mansion, locked in the coffin.

Another yawn split the blond’s face. He turned away from the window and climbed back into his oversized bed, nestling himself under the layers of quilts that his mother had sewn. He would go find Vincent tomorrow or sometime soon; he did have a six year limit. With that last thought, Cloud’s eyes fluttered closed and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

When he woke the next morning, he very nearly panicked. He hadn’t the slightest clue where he was. And then, he sat up and saw his legs which had slipped out from under part of the quilts. At the sight of the small appendages, everything came rushing back.

The eight year old sighed and flopped back down onto the bed, glancing out the window. Sunlight was just peeking out over the mountains, spilling onto the remains of the snow on the village rooftops. Spring was coming and all of the ice and snow was melting off finally; Nibelheim was full of long winters and short springs. 

Cloud pushed back the remains of the blankets, slipping down from the bed, only to jump back on when his feet hit the frigid wooden floor. 

“Forgot how cold it is here in the mornings…” Cloud thought ruefully, cursing colorfully in a very Cid-like fashion as he nursed his now cold feet, tucking them back beneath the quilt and debating over the merits of trying to sleep in for once.

He quickly dismissed the idea; he was now thoroughly awake. And he didn’t want to risk getting a nightmare if he went back to sleep. Unexpectedly, Cloud had gotten a full night’s sleep without waking up from disturbing dreams of endless green, needles, or his friends’ deaths; he'd assumed that the jarring time-travel would have given him a dose of his old nightmares (which weren't frequent anymore, but still happened occasionally). 

“I’m going to change it, make sure none of it happens,” the boy thought determinedly, sliding carefully off the bed and dashing to his dresser to grab some clothes and socks.

Cloud winced at the amount of bright, child-like clothing. At least some of it was dark. He sighed and pulled out a pair of black pants, tossing them on the bed alongside a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt. He reached up, standing on tiptoe so he could get a better look at his sock drawer. He rifled through before finding the newest-looking pair and quickly pulling them on in an effort to get his feet warmed up and to protect them from the freezing floor.

Next, he pulled on his pants, which were slightly too big, but allowed for easy movement if necessary. Considering the amount of bruising and small scars he was finding from all of the bullying he’d withstood over this body’s eight years of life, not too unexpected. Cloud inwardly applauded his past self’s practicality. At least now he knew that being practical was all him, not some residual personality trait from Zack. Though “practical” and “Zack” didn’t usually go together in the same sentence.

Cloud smiled suddenly, a sunny smile he hadn’t used in years. Zack was alive, and so was Aerith. They didn’t know each other yet, and Aerith and Zack weren’t together, but he’d make sure it happened. They would get a happy ending this time.

Once he was ready, Cloud padded out to the kitchen, the socks muffling any sound his feet would have made. As Cloud looked around, he noticed a small foot-high stool that stood near the sink. The sight of it, even though he didn’t consciously remember, made him smile. The idea that outwardly he was the average eight year old that required a stool to reach the sink, even though he was over fifty years old, struck him as deeply amusing to the point that he had to suppress giggles. 

“Giggles?”

Cloud sighed. His biological age was most likely the cause. The tears of the evening before were also probably a side-effect. He was really going to have to retrain his body. And he’d need to start soon. His body was extraordinarily weak at the moment. And he needed to figure out what he needed to do. And how to go about doing it.

But first, breakfast.  

Cloud dragged the stool over to the counter and stepped up, reaching for the cupboard to search for food; he had no idea where anything was placed. 

The particular cupboard he just opened held dishes, plates and bowls. They were plain, and some were cracked, but they were still serviceable. Cloud pulled down a few bowls and plates. He shifted the stool again in order to get at another cupboard (he was suddenly struck with the desire to grow, and quickly; having to use a stool every time he wanted something in the kitchen was going to get very annoying, very fast). 

Cloud pulled down a home baked loaf of bread and turned awkwardly, tossing it onto the counter as he rifled around on the next highest shelf for the butter and honey. Having acquired them, he jumped down from the stool, landing with a quiet thump in his sock-covered feet on the wooden floor. He placed the items on the table quickly, and then turned to root around for a frying pan.

The eight year old dragged the stool over to the stove top and turned it on, allowing it to heat up as he located the pancake mix. A few moments later and he was making pancakes, stacking them on a large plate as he finished cooking each one.

That was how Mrs. Strife found her son when she walked in a few minutes later, braiding her hair as she walked sleepily into the kitchen. She blinked at the sight of her eight year old child standing on a stool in front of the stove, a small pile of nicely golden brown pancakes on a plate and the table set.

“Cloud?” she said.

Cloud looked over at her and gave a small, slightly shy smile.

“Good morning,” he said, looking slightly sheepish. “Mom?” he said, noticing that she was standing in the doorway with a blank look on her face.

“Yes?” said Elle Strife, still looking bemusedly at her son.

“Your braid… Aren’t you going to finish tying it?”

Elle blinked, and then glanced down at the end of the braid she hadn’t finished tying. Hurriedly, she tied it off and sent a raised eyebrow at her child.

“Better?” she asked teasingly.

Cloud nodded, giving her a cheeky grin before turning back to the remaining pancake mixture and pouring it into the pan in order to make one last, perfectly golden pancake.

“Since when did you learn to make pancakes? Or use the stove?” asked Elle, watching her son as he set the large plate of pancakes on the table using both hands.

Cloud’s eyes widened and he very nearly panicked before thinking quickly and letting the lie flow off his tongue, feeling guilty even as he began speaking.

“Well, I’ve watched you make them before and I’ve seen you use the stove quite a bit, too,” Cloud’s eight year old voice explained reasonably as he sat down. 

Elle Strife hummed, looking at her son skeptically, but prepared her pancakes nonetheless. Her blue eyes widened significantly when she took a bite. 

Cloud looked up at her, still preparing his own with butter and Nibelheim syrup (which he hadn’t had in who knows how long).

“Is it… bad?” he asked hesitantly, his voice quiet and large blue eyes worried.

“Planet! You’re cooking breakfast from now on! These are the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten. They’re better than mine!” she exclaimed, mock glaring as she said the last part.

“I just added nutmeg and cinnamon…” said Cloud, his small face bemused at his mother’s theatrics.

“But you didn’t even burn them! I always burn them,” she said, “And you cooked them so evenly…”

Cloud just grinned at her for a moment before pouring a bit more syrup onto his pancakes and digging in. He blinked. 

“These do taste good,” he thought, vaguely surprised. Giving a mental shrug, he began eating again.

After Cloud and his mother finished, Cloud stood to begin picking up. His mother forestalled him, standing up herself and grabbing dishes to put in the sink.

“You go outside and play until lunch, I’ll take care of all this,” she said, shooing him out of the kitchen. “Make sure you come back in time for lunch,” she added, smiling at his cutely confused expression and wild blond hair. 

Cloud nodded and went back to his room to see if he had a knife or weapon of some kind. A staff, or even a sling shot, would be useful. He wanted to re-familiarize himself with Nibelheim and the mountains. He had a vague notion that he’d spent most of his time there when he was a kid in the past, at least according to Tifa’s memory of him when she reconstructed his memories.

He glanced around his room. The stick was in the corner, but it was pretty brittle and would most likely snap if he did anything other than wave it around. He ignored it in favour of checking out the wooden trunk at the foot of his bed. 

Cloud hefted the lid open and found a wealth of odds and ends piled inside. There was a tin filled with pretty rocks and crystalized mako that he must’ve collected at some point when he was up wandering in the forest and caves. There was a length of rope, seemingly relatively new, coiled at the bottom. A little pouch, upon opening, was filled with jewelry that his mother had made for him out of silver chains, wire, and crystal mako pieces that still had a bit of a glow when the light hit them. He set it aside carefully; the jewelry was quite pretty. He’d forgotten that his mother made jewelry.

There were a few toys. Random wooden blocks, a few balls, an old stuffed Nibel wolf that must have been given to him when he was a baby and had seen plenty of wear and tear since, as well as some marbles and toy soldiers. What caught his eye, however, was the small knife he found hidden in the corner of the box and underneath the stuffed wolf. 

He quickly pulled it out to examine it with a critical eye. The metal was good, though not the best, and the handle and hilt were serviceable, as was the beaten up leather sheathe it came with. Cloud strapped it to his leg, feeling slightly better now that he had a weapon.

The boy glanced inside the trunk once more and spotted a slingshot with a small pouch of pebbles perfect for shooting. Cloud had no recollection of ever having used one before, but it couldn’t be worse than using a rifle; he pocketed the slingshot, reasoning that it couldn’t hurt, and also grabbing the pouch and attaching it to his belt.

That done, he stood up and exited his room. He passed the kitchen, giving his mother a small wave before pulling on his boots by the door. The shoes gave him a bit of trouble when he tried to tuck his pant legs into them, but he managed, even with his small hands. 

Cloud got to his feet and left, stepping outside and into a world that he had thought long gone. The eight year old nearly had a heart attack when he saw the blacksmith, alive, and walking by without giving Cloud a backward glance. 

Taking a deep breath, Cloud stepped off the small stone porch and began making his way through the village, wanting to look and drink everything in, as well as not look at all to save himself the mental pain and confusion it wrought. 

On his way to the outskirts of the village, Cloud felt as though he was walking among ghosts. The blacksmith, Gael Frobisher if Cloud was remembering right, could be seen at work in his shop, his hammer blows echoing through the snow-blanketed quiet. Eoin Fletcher, a young man who was just recently married and who had just had his firstborn delivered when Sephiroth razed Nibelheim, walked along hauling lumber to repair his and his wife’s new-old home. 

A couple of women stood in front of the little general store, one holding a child as she spoke to the woman next to her. The two women, Cloud recalled, had intensely disliked him and refused to let him near them or their children. Their bodies had been trapped inside the local store and burned alive.

Cloud flinched imperceptibly as he took in all the buildings and people that had burned and died. The boy hurried along, stretching his smaller legs in order to escape the village faster. Rounding the corner of the apothecary in order to take a short cut that he actually remembered, the blonde slammed into another body. Cloud stumbled back, barely managing to catch himself against the side of the building. He raised his head to see who he’d bumped into. And promptly froze.

Large, warm brown eyes set in a small pretty face greeted him. Long, dark brown hair held back in a low, loose ponytail and lips parted in surprise. 

A seven year old Tifa Lockhart. Cloud almost choked. If he ever needed the fact that he’d gone back in time hammered into him, the sight of a child Tifa would have done it. As it was, Cloud was desperately trying to mask the look on his face.

“S-sorry,” Cloud mumbled as he began edging around Tifa, deciding he really needed to get away. Now.

“Is that all you got to say, Strife?” growled another voice from behind Tifa.

Cloud couldn’t help rolling his eyes at that particular statement, his amusement distracting him slightly from Tifa.

“Typical,” he muttered sarcastically, more to himself than the others.

“Did the coward just talk back?” said a different voice, “He never talks back!”

Cloud looked around again, noting the two boys behind Tifa. No matter how much he thought, he couldn’t seem to place the two. Oh well.

The boy who’d first spoken looked about nine; he was on the tall side, and though he wasn’t thin, he wasn’t large either. His hair was dark, almost black, and his skin was lightly tanned. His brown-black eyes were narrowed as they stared at Cloud in dislike. 

The other boy was shorter than his friend, though about the same age, and only a few inches taller than Tifa. He had wavy hair that was more red than brown and a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose. His skin was rather tanned and wind-chapped. His green eyes were staring accusingly at Cloud.

Cloud gave a slight sigh, and then turned around, intending to simply avoid them and go the long way. He wasn’t in the mood for a fight, especially one where he didn’t have the strength to back him up and would likely lose. 

Before he could get far, however, a hand grabbed his upper arm and jerked him back, throwing him against the wall of the building with a thump. Cloud winced. 

“Shall we teach him again, Darin?” asked the boy with green eyes, whose name was Flynn.

Darin looked at Cloud, considering, eyes still narrowed in the dislike he’d picked up on from his parents and attributed to Cloud’s wild blond hair, blue eyes, and small build, as well as the fact no one knew who Cloud’s father was. He smirked slightly.

“No. Keep him here and I’ll go get Kelle. We’ll let him deal with it.” So saying, Darin turned to Tifa, “Once we’re done with that, then we can go play,” he said with a cheery smile.

Tifa stared at the older Darin. 

“No thanks,” said the seven year old, turning away and leaving the three boys behind and sending an apologetic look at Cloud.

Cloud didn’t blame Tifa’s leaving him, a strategic retreat on her part; he intended to make one as well, as soon as Darin was gone. The shorter boy would be easier to escape from. 

Darin stared after the pretty seven-going-on-eight year old, a scowl on his face at her abrupt departure. That did not end how he wanted. He then turned back to Cloud, who was still trapped between the wall and Flynn. Scowling, he walked over to Cloud and glared, as if to say Cloud was the reason Tifa left. 

Darin had a crush on Tifa that had started recently, and he took anything that Tifa did or said to heart. Wanting to get rid of the foreign and frustrating feelings that he was experiencing for the first time, he turned and picked up a stray rock a little smaller than his palm.

“Flynn. Move outta the way.”

“What are you—Oh,” said Flynn, hurriedly backing away as Darin raised the arm holding the rock.

Cloud’s eyes widened slightly, understanding of the situation dawning. 

Darin threw the rock. Cloud could tell it was going to hit his eye, but this body wasn’t fast enough to dodge completely. Cloud settled for ducking his head and clenching his eyes shut at the last moment. The rock struck solidly with enough force to cause Cloud’s head to snap to the side. Flynn winced.

“Darin,” the boy started, looking slightly horrified by the amount of blood that was now pouring from a gash on Cloud’s forehead above his eye, just below the gash from the night before.

“Shut up,” said Darin, looking slightly guilty and disgruntled, “Leave him. Let’s get out of here.”

Darin turned, about to leave with Flynn following. Before either of them exited the little hidden spot between buildings, they were confronted by Kelle, Shan, and Mikael. Darin and Flynn stumbled back at the older boys’ sudden appearance. 

Meanwhile, Cloud was cursing his eight year old, mako-less body with every swear he knew (which was an extensive amount, considering he knew Cid). His small hand was pressed to his forehead, trying to staunch the stinging flow of blood that was dripping irritatingly into his eye. Luckily, Darin’s hit hadn’t concussed him or made him too dizzy. 

“But Planet, does it hurt.”

Cloud looked up as the three older boys came toward him, trying to box him in. Cloud straightened himself up, pulling his hand away from his forehead, and glared at them all.

“Oooh! He’s glaring,” mocked the fair-haired Shan, his brown eyes scornful. 

“That’s quite a glare, Cloud,” said Mikael, looking slightly unnerved. Was he the only one who noticed that Cloud seemed… older? More dangerous? At least in his eyes… The blood running down the side of his face wasn’t helping.

Cloud dropped the glare, internally sighing. How old were these boys again? Thirteen, fourteen? 

"Stupid," mumbled Cloud, trying to wipe some of the blood away.

The three boys didn’t hear Cloud’s muttered observation and continued moving forward in tandem with each other. Cloud noticed them moving forward again and shifted to his left minutely, towards the open street. One of the boys moved to accommodate the younger boy’s movement. Cloud sighed. Looked like he’d have to run, and run fast. 

Cloud slipped one hand into the pouch at his waist and the other subtly grabbed the slingshot. Before the other three realized what he was doing, he’d fitted a stone into the sling and pulled it back. Cloud released the pull and the stone shot free, slamming into Shan’s foot.

Shan cried out, holding his foot and cursing colorfully in true Nibelheim fashion. Cloud dashed forward, passing the boy holding his foot who made a wild grab for his arm. The blonde slipped past, evading the elder’s grasp. The other two skirted around Shan, chasing after Cloud.

The boys ran a merry chase, Cloud barely managing to stay ahead. Only his small body and ability to make sharp turns at top speed were keeping him from Kelle, Mikael, and Shan, who was positively livid at Cloud as he lagged behind the other two due to a pronounced limp. 

Cloud couldn’t help grumbling to himself as he ran, muttering every foul word he could think of. He was over sixty years old, a fighter who’d saved the world and fought countless battles. And yet, here he was, trapped in an eight year old body and running from three young village teenagers. The situation was laughable. 

The blond skidded around another building, the path leading to the mountains in sight. He would’ve sighed in relief if he had any breath to spare. Cloud was rather horrified at the fact that his body couldn’t run for more than ten minutes without causing him to gasp and his legs to burn. 

“This body is worse than I thought.”

Cloud was only yards away from his goal when he felt himself trip and crash to the ground. He immediately tried to get back to his feet, but found his body working against him. 

“This is so much harder than it should be,” Cloud thought angrily, gritting his teeth as he fought his body’s limitations and worked his way up to his feet. Why couldn’t he have kept the damn mako?

Hearing three pairs of running feet coming towards him, Cloud spun around. The three older boys had finally caught up.

“What were you trying to do, coming way out here?” Kelle asked, looking irritated and out of breath. 

Cloud didn’t respond, just regarded the three boys with a mixture of irritation and amusement. The two emotions were readily apparent on Cloud’s young, still-expressive face.

“What are you smirking at, you little bastard?” growled Shan, taking a menacing step forward.

Of course, it probably would’ve been more frightening had he not been sporting a rather noticeable limp. Cloud almost laughed, but managed to keep it in check. Antagonizing them wouldn’t be the best idea right now. He considered taking out the slingshot again, but he didn’t think he’d be able to hit all three at once. The little toy weapon was good for distractions and minor things such as hitting individual hands and feet, but not much else. The blond looked around for inspiration.

The area the four boys were currently standing in was just a short run away from the path that led up to the mako reactor. A smaller path branched away from it further in. If Cloud remembered correctly, that little path just might be the solution to his predicament… 

Mikael, noticing the look the spiky-haired blond was giving the path, began to say, “Don’t even think about—”  

Too late. Cloud had already taken off, ordering his legs to not give out on the way. He made it a quarter of the way up the path before the sound of the boys scrabbling after him reached his ears. The continuous, if uneven and stumbling, sound of their passage up the path was somehow vaguely funny. Maybe the fact that he was escaping to the very place Zack had risked his life to get them out of was the reason.

As Cloud rounded a bend in the path, he finally saw what he was looking for: the slightly smaller path that lead to the ShinRa mansion. Gaea, was the Planet screwing with him…

Pushing the thought aside, the eight year old would-be Soldier made a sharp left and raced down the path, pushing his short legs just a little harder as his breaths came in deep, choking gasps. He could still hear the older boys’ heavier steps as they made their way down the dirt path after Cloud.

“They must really not like me…” Cloud thought offhandedly.

Cloud was at the far side of the mansion now, a stone wall fence that was far taller than he was stood in the way. The wall was old and grey with cracks spreading over its surface and ivy climbing up it. 

Cloud looked up at it, for a moment forgetting himself and the world around him. He forcefully pushed down the memories that would never truly leave him; the pain, screams, and agony of watching the experiments take place one after the other, on both himself and Zack.

The small blond turned, sensing that the other boys were now within sight, and began running along the wall, heading for the entrance gate that was to his right and obscured by trees. He just reached the gate when the older three caught up, one of them making a lunge at Cloud. Shan’s eyes widened as he saw the eight year old jump, Cloud managing to attach himself to the top of the gate.

“Get him down! Don’t let him get over the gate!” yelled Kelle, running forward himself and making a grab at Cloud’s legs.

Mikael ran forward as well, trying to grab the slippery blond who was causing them far more trouble than usual. He’d actually managed to outrun them, for once. 

Shan managed to get a hold of Cloud’s booted foot and started trying to tug the boy down. Getting slightly desperate, Cloud kicked out with his other foot and managing to kick Shan in the nose. Shan released him with an enraged, pain-filled yell as blood poured from his nose and a distinctly audible -crack!- sounded through the cold air of Nibelheim. 

Cloud managed to tug himself up and over the gate while Kelle and Mikael tried to get a look at Shan’s face to examine his nose. Mikael stepped back in shock: the puny little blond had broken his twin’s nose! It was practically shattered!

“You little bastard!” yelled Mikael, turning towards Cloud again, expecting to still see him on the gate.

Cloud, however, knew when to take an opportunity when it presented itself. He was already running for the mansion’s front door. He paused once he reached it, having heard Mikael’s less than friendly shout.

“What?” Cloud finally said tonelessly, looking back at the trio standing in front of the gate, Kelle standing a little in front of Shan and Mikael’s hands fisted on the bars of the gate. “You’ve been beating me up and breaking my bones for how many years now? And you get angry that I broke your brother’s nose once? If you can’t take it, then don’t dish it out.” 

Cloud’s childish voice was quiet, not really angry but filled with something none of the young teens understood. Mikael felt his anger begin to wane; Cloud was right. Why were they doing something so pointless anyways? Kelle and Shan didn’t seem to share in Mikael’s sudden realization, sputtering in senseless anger and rage. Mikael’s eyes met Cloud’s. The older boy released the gate and stepped back.

“I’m leaving,” he said, “And we should get Shan’s nose looked.”

So saying, he tugged his twin’s arm, ignoring the pissed off and pained vibes he was getting, and headed back up the path. Kelle sent another glare that promised retribution Cloud’s way before reluctantly following his friends, not wanting to brave the haunted mansion and strangely fearless and mature blond by himself. 

As Cloud watched them leave, he rather got the impression that he’d have one less person out to harm him. At least, if he read that boy (Mikael?) correctly. It seemed as though he’d woken up to the futility of picking on an eight year old child. Cloud sighed. He should probably stick around for a while, just in case. He turned back to the door.

Cloud’s brilliant blue eyes surveyed the old door that wasn’t quite as old as it was in his memory. The door was locked, and still looked sturdy enough to do its job. He frowned at it. If he had picks or even a hair pin, he’d be able to open the lock easily; Yuffie and Vincent had passed on a few lessons to the AVALANCHE members on the art of lock-picking. 

Thinking of Yuffie, was she even born yet? Yes, though she’d be about two or three… Cloud felt a sharp pain in his chest at the thought of all his companions who in this time, he’d never met, and might never meet if things went to plan and he stopped Hojo, Hollander, and Sephiroth. And even if he did meet them, the relationships wouldn’t be the same. The same experiences he was trying to stop were the very things that forged their friendships and made them closer. 

Cloud shook his head sharply, trying to dislodge the errant and depressing thoughts. It would be worth it, if he could stop the pain and sadness caused by Meteor. Geostigma wouldn’t happen, and Denzel’s parents would be alive. Nibelheim wouldn’t burn. Zack, Aerith, Jessie, Wedge, Biggs, and so many others wouldn’t die… He wanted, needed, to fix everything. He didn’t think he could survive living through all of that again.

Determined, Cloud stepped off the porch-like area in front of the door to look for a window he could get through. There. A window to the far right of the door. Reaching it would be a bit of a stretch for his short body, but he could manage. Cloud made his way over to stand beneath the window and looked at it consideringly. 

A rather solid-looking bush was growing stubbornly in the mountain climate just underneath the window sill. It would do for a stool.

The child planted his foot onto the sturdy part of the bush and pulled himself up using the window’s trim to balance himself as he inspected the window: it was locked. Cloud sighed.

“Nothing can ever be simple, can it?” he said to himself, still feeling rather odd listening to his own, no-longer-deep voice.

“Damn,” he abruptly realized, “I’ll have to go through all of that again! Awkward mother-son talk included.” 

Cloud shuddered and allowed himself an inward groan. Turning back to the window and repressing the urge to simply smash the window and be done with it, Cloud took a closer look at the frame holding in one of the panes of glass. Cloud smiled slightly. Part of the wood was rotting and it would be a simple task to wriggle the pane loose. That would be all he needed. 

Being small did have its advantages, Cloud realized, rather happy as he began the onerous task of prying the pane loose from the wood. About ten minutes later, fingers covered in scratches and splinters, Cloud lowered the pane gently to the ground, intending to place it back when he left.

He hoisted himself up and crawled clumsily through the small, empty rectangle left in the window and tumbled inside. He managed to land with minimal noise, only a small thud and quiet curse as his knees hit the dusty wood floor. 

Cloud stood, dusting off his black pants that seemed intent on accumulating all the dirt and grime that was on the mansion’s floor. Pants relatively dust-free, the eight year old turned his blue eyes to the rest of the room he’d landed in. 

The blond found himself in a room just off the main hall. He exited, deciding to head to the library. If he remembered correctly, Hojo left a “false trail” for Sephiroth after the mansion was abandoned and that misinformation had helped trigger the madness. He wanted to get rid of the notes. One less trigger to worry about, after all.

And Cloud would never admit to feeling a vindictive pleasure at the thought of destroying the notes. Perhaps with a firaga, though he didn’t have one at the moment… Cloud  gave a slight smile at the thought, and then proceeded to ignore it in favour of observing his surroundings; there were probably monsters around after all. 

He made his way into the main hall and headed for the stairs, regarding them warily. They didn’t look very strong. One of the stairs had broken the last time he’d gone up. But then, he’d been an adult lugging around a sword that weighed almost as much as he did. Not to mention the mansion had been older back then.

Cloud blinked at the thought, and then sighed. 

“This whole time travel thing is really messing with my head,” Cloud said to himself ruefully, shaking his head as he began making his way up the stairs and deciding to conveniently ignore the fact that he was talking to himself.

Some of the stairs creaked alarmingly, but still held as the boy made his way up. He avoided using the banister in order to leave no obvious hand prints from swiping away the dust as he went. 

Once on the next floor, Cloud turned left. He smiled slightly to himself; amazingly enough, he still recalled the safe’s combination. That would make things infinitely easier, though he’d have to go back through at some point to collect all the weapons and things floating around. He really missed having the comforting feeling of a sword on his back.

“Maybe I should get a sword first. I don’t really remember at what point in the basement Lost Number shows up….” Cloud thought, pausing on his way to the room that held the safe.

Cloud shrugged, still thinking, and moved on, entering the room warily. He heaved a small sigh of relief when no monsters jumped out. The blond’s young face tugged into a frown; this was weird. Why weren’t there any monsters taking up residence? And now that he started really thinking about it, the place wasn’t nearly as run down as he’d expected it to be…And parts of the place looked like someone had been there recently. 

Cloud’s frown deepened. He walked quickly to the safe and dialed in the combination. He tugged it open. Inside lay a small grouping of papers, slightly stale and damp from cold and inattention. Cloud pulled it out and tossed it onto a nearby desk without a glance before returning his attention to the safe. He reached deeper into the safe until he touched a piece of cool metal. Giving a satisfied smile, Cloud pulled out the old brass key. 

As Cloud turned to leave and head to the basement, he noted a chest tucked into the corner. Tilting his head, Cloud walked over to it and hefted it open, his thin arms straining. His eyes widened. A slow grin reached his lips, his eight year old face practically glowing.

He’d found an Odin materia. And, even better than that, a sword with materia slots.

Ten minutes later found Cloud with some gil, an ether, and a potion, all collected from various places in the mansion. Cloud felt a growing sense of security with each item he’d obtained, though they were no First Tsurugi. It was time to head for the basement.

Cloud had to think a bit, trying to remember the way down. He had over fifty years’ worth of memory to sort through. After a few minutes, Cloud’s eyes lit as he finally remembered and headed for the basement.

A short walk and a few minutes later, Cloud was walking through the passageway underground, the key resting in his pocket and sword in hand, though he could barely hold it up. It held materia at least, so he wouldn’t have to use the blade itself, though he hated the thought. 

He gave a brief mental touch to the materia, just to make sure he still had the ability to wield it. It glimmered with light; Cloud smiled slightly, relieved. He’d been a bit worried that he’d lost the ability when he lost the mako. Seems he needn’t have worried. It was probably due to the amount of times his consciousness had traveled into and through the Lifestream; he was attuned to it now in a similar way the Cetra had been. 

Cloud took another step and found himself in the ShinRa library. It was just as full of books and scattered papers as he remembered. The ones Sephiroth had read were the ones hidden obviously, tucked in certain books and in the back of shelves. Those were the ones that were altered. 

The eight year old conducted a quick search of the library for monsters. Finding none, he set down the sword, the muscles in his hands and arms aching from the strain of having held it up for so long. Shaking out his arms and giving them a quick stretch, Cloud set to work finding and sorting all of the files, papers, and books that had been hidden. 

Cloud found that some of it, Gast’s research for instance, had been mostly accurate aside from a few things. Hojo’s work was something else. As Cloud looked through the papers, he noticed where Hojo fabricated or altered results to suit his needs or beliefs. The things obviously left for Sephiroth to find, Cloud simply tossed aside into the burn pile he’d started. Most of Hojo’s research went into that pile.

Once Cloud finished the first four bookcases and the desk, he moved to the last one, the fifth bookcase. It wasn’t quite as full as the others and seemed more disused than the other bookcases. Cloud shifted a large pile of outdated books on mako, sneezing when the dust blew up into his face. Something fell as Cloud moved the books to the desk in order to sort through the pages to make sure nothing was hidden in them. He quickly put the books down, almost tripping over a small pile of even more books when he turned back. Catching himself, Cloud’s eyes scanned the ground for whatever had fallen, which turned out to be a file, some of the papers having spilled out during the short fall. A name on several of the papers immediately caught Cloud’s attention. 

Project V

“Vincent…” Cloud murmured, stepping over quietly to pick up the file and papers that had spilled.

Papers picked up and a quick glance through the file showed it was indeed Vincent’s file.

“Vincent never got to know what exactly Hojo had done to him,” Cloud thought.

Still pensive, Cloud sat the file on the part of the desk he’d put information he deemed both pertinent and accurate. The boy sat down in the chair behind the desk with a thump, a sigh gusting from his lips. He was basically done going through the parts of the library he knew things had been hidden in. Cloud toyed with the idea of trying to wake Vincent, but decided he needed to know the time; he didn’t want to be late to lunch, especially when his mother specifically told him not to.

Cloud blinked. There was no way to tell the time in the library. No windows, and any clock that might be in the library would be useless. Cloud stood up hurriedly and headed for the door, grabbing the too heavy sword as he went. He made sure to lock the door to the passage behind him. 

Looking at the sword, Cloud had a quick inner debate. Leave the sword or take the sword? He decided to compromise, leaving the sword next to the fireplace in a shadowy recess with a group of fire pokers, but taking the Odin materia; after all, he didn’t want to be seen walking through Nibelheim with a sword. That would raise awkward questions. He also pocketed the gil, leaving the potions and ethers he’d collected with the weapon. 

Cloud looked out the window. The sun was high. Probably almost noon. He was probably going to be late. The blonde quickly hoisted himself through the window and dropped clumsily to the other side, landing on the bush and scratching his legs through his pants. He’d probably have welts. Cloud looked around quickly, trying to find the pane of glass. Finding it, Cloud picked it up gently and inserted it carefully into the frame, stepping back carefully and making sure it would stay put. 

That done, Cloud made sure his gil and materia were still safely in his pockets and jogged down the drive to the gate. Cloud looked at the tall iron gate balefully; mako would’ve made this so much easier. But then, so would having his adult body.

Cloud gave a mental shrug and began hauling his little body up and over the gate. He dropped to the other side, stumbling a bit but adjusting quickly. Slowly but surely, he was getting used to the idea of being a little over four feet tall.

The boy began a light jog, hoping to both begin increasing his stamina and get home quickly so he wouldn’t be too late.

Cloud made it, only a few minutes later than expected. He tripped slightly, exhausted from all of the running, as he made his way up the steps.

“Welcome back, Cloud,” called the boy’s mother from inside the kitchen. “Did you have fun?” she asked, smiling at her out of breath son.

“Yeah,” Cloud managed, giving her a slight smile. Cloud abruptly remembered the gash on his forehead and said, “I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

So saying, Cloud turned away quickly, tossing the slingshot and small knife into his room as he went by, heading for the sink in the bathroom. Once inside, he shut and locked the door. Facing the mirror, he pushed his bangs aside and winced, seeing the nasty gash on his forehead and the blood smears.

He hadn’t thought to drink either the potion or the ether that he’d found before he left the mansion. 

“Well, I don’t really want to waste it on something as small as this anyways,” he thought, dampening a small cloth.

Cloud used the cloth and began dabbing at the gash on his forehead, trying to clean it up. At least he wouldn’t have to think of an excuse for it; the damned rock had hit basically the same spot as the gash from that first night he’d woken up in the past. Cloud couldn’t decide if he was lucky or unlucky. 

Cloud watched the red water wash down the sink as he rinsed out the cloth. Reaching down into the cupboard underneath the sink, the small boy pulled out the rubbing alcohol. Cloud used that to finish cleaning out the wound; it would be bad if it got infected. He also took the time to work out the small splinters in his fingers as well as bandaging them up; they had been bleeding sluggishly ever since he’d torn the glass pane from the window.

That done, Cloud went back to the kitchen where his mother was waiting. When Cloud walked in, his mother immediately noticed the white wrappings around his small fingers. She debated on whether to ask or not, but decided to allow her son some privacy. If he wasn’t going to talk to her about it, she wouldn’t press him. And besides, knowing her son, Cloud was probably sword practicing with a wooden stick in the forest and simply been too embarrassed to admit the fact. He did have his pride. Dismissing her son’s odd behavior and equally strange wounds, she began putting food on the table.

Cloud’s eyes closed at the scent. His mother had made a stew, heavy with wild game meat that they had managed to barter off the shopkeeper, Walter Godhold. Living in Nibelheim was hard enough, but for the Strifes with their soft, lightly-coloured looks and odd, unknown origins it was practically impossible. 

His mother gave a quick prayer of thanks to Mother Gaea, and then they both dug into the stew in comfortable silence. After they were nearly done, Cloud finally spoke:

“The stew is really good, mom.”

Cloud’s voice was quiet, almost shy, as he spoke to his mother.

“Thanks, though I have to say your pancakes definitely rival it. They were really yummy,” she said with a teasing yet genuine smile.

Cloud felt a happy, childish grin spread across his face and his cheeks flush a light pink in pleased embarrassment.

“Really?” he said, unable to help the childish comment.

His mother laughed as she stood up with her bowl. As she passed him on her way to the sink, she bent down and kissed him on the top of his head and said, “Really.”

Cloud ducked his head, his spikes bouncing slightly at the movement. His mother laughed as she continued on her way to the sink. Cloud stood up as well, having eaten a good portion of his stew.

Despite being in a younger body, his appetite still wasn’t that great. However, the food was good, and it was familiar and gave him a feeling of safety which, Cloud realized, was helping him eat a bit more than he would normally. 

Cloud handed his bowl up to his mom and then went back to the small roughly hewn kitchen table whose surface was polished from use. The boy began putting things away as his mother looked on, an odd expression on her face. 

The blond finished and turned back to his mother who was in the process of putting away the excess stew. He simply watched her for a few seconds, marveling that she was simply alive and he wasn’t dreaming. 

Sensing his gaze, Elle turned around and regarded her son for a moment.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, pinning her son with the world renowned penetrating look that only mothers can give.

Cloud started, unaware that he had been staring. 

“N-no. There’s nothing,” he managed to say, stuttering slightly. He’d forgotten how perceptive and intelligent she was, especially where people were concerned, and himself in particular. 

“Are you sure? Are you…worried about something?” she asked, her eyes gentling as she surveyed the various cuts and contusions on her small son.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Cloud replied more firmly, “No, really mom. I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

Cloud gave her a small reassuring smile. Elle looked at her son for a moment, wondering at the calm and gentle smile her son seemed to have suddenly developed overnight. He no longer gave her bright, beaming, naïve smiles throughout the day. His smile was meant to reassure. It felt, she thought, as though he’d grown into an adult overnight.

“If you’re sure then,” she said, deciding not to look into it any deeper than that her son was growing up. She could sense, with a mother’s intuition, that there was something larger going on and that she wouldn’t like the answer if she knew.

Cloud walked over to his mom and hugged her, stretching his arms around her slim form. Vaguely surprised, Elle hugged her son back tightly with a sad smile she kept hidden in his spiky hair. 

“There are a few hours till bedtime, why don’t you go study?” she suggested.

Cloud pulled back from the hug and cast a discreet glance at the living room to see where the study material was. Feeling a sense of relief, Cloud looked up at his mother and gave a nod accompanied by a small smile.

“Alright,” he said, hugging his mother once more before going to the small bookshelf and pulling down the school material.

Cloud flipped through the book till he found where it was he’d left off before the Planet’s interference. It was basic reading and math. Cloud sighed. Looked like some acting was called for. He couldn’t just suddenly be able to read scientific level books or do advanced mathematics. 

Cloud settled in for a long couple hours before bedtime.

Chapter Text

A couple weeks went by and life settled into a pattern, which Cloud found both relaxing and dull. Most days were spent helping his mother around the house, exploring and planning, and occasionally dodging the village children aside from Tifa and Mikael, both of whom had turned into friends (although Tifa was still cautious; her father would have skinned Cloud alive if he caught them associating with each other).

Cloud found himself feeling rather thankful to Mikael. Mikael was able to keep Shan and Kelle away and allow Cloud some semblance of normal village life without sneaking around everywhere. However, Mikael couldn’t be with Cloud all the time. On those days, Cloud disappeared up into the mountains and caves, exploring and training his body, as well as making a mental map of the area and where the local monsters resided. 

He started with small monsters, finding unattended nests and breaking the eggs or killing the baby monsters he found. Even the babies were difficult to kill for Cloud, and he struggled to get stronger and increase his body’s endurance and tolerance to pain. It was a slow, laborious process that Cloud loathed. 

On the bright side, although Cloud’s training progress was slow, small changes were being noticed around Nibelheim. Most remarked upon was that there were fewer younger monsters running about attacking travelers and traders; it was opening up the road to Nibelheim for slightly increased commerce, which allowed more gil to come into circulation in the poor community. Lives were improving, albeit in small ways. And though small, any respite was welcomed by the villagers, even if they had no idea how or why.

It started out as a typical day for Cloud, waking up and having what still felt like a surreal breakfast with his living and breathing mother. He helped clean up the table and quickly left, hopping off the small porch and heading into the village. The blond still carried the small slingshot and stones, as well as the little knife he’d sharpened into a lethal edge. The lone Odin materia he’d found in the mansion was safely stowed in his pocket. 

Cloud, deep in thought on his next move, was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts when multiple voices shouted. The blonde started and immediately looked around. Heart sinking and feeling resigned, he spotted Kelle and Shan leading a group of three village boys about Cloud’s age. They were heading straight towards him. 

Common sense kicked in with all the force of a runaway chocobo. Cloud spun and took off in a dead sprint. Vaguely surprised at Cloud’s new turn of speed, the group of village boys gave chase, Kelle and Shan in the lead. The boys were out of luck, however; Cloud was easily staying ahead and out of reach. All the days of hunting small monsters, on top of Cloud already training himself, were paying off. The boy couldn’t help but smile slightly, happy at his progress.

“Maybe it’s time I woke Vincent,” thought Cloud as he darted off the path and slipped into the thick and dark Nibelheim forest. 

One of the boys had given up the chase when Cloud ran up the path leading towards the mansion and mako reactor, and the other two quit when they saw Cloud disappear almost seamlessly into the trees. Shan and Kelle, however, kept on in pursuit and ignored their misgivings. They crashed into a large clearing, assuming they’d cornered the young blond and would find him trying to hide.

The clearing was empty.

“Are you sure you saw him come this way?” asked Shan warily.

“Positive,” panted Kelle, irritated and embarrassed. “Since when has that kid gotten so fast?”

Shan shrugged and began poking around. Kicking at bushes and hoping Cloud would be startled out of hiding, neither he nor Kelle thought to look up.

Cloud rolled his large blue eyes from his perch, high up and directly over Shan’s head. He was almost tempted to drop down and land directly on the young teen’s shoulders, but refrained. He wasn’t strong enough to take on the bigger and brawnier boys just yet… But Gaea was it tempting. 

Shan and Kelle eventually gave up, leaving the clearing and muttering words of vengeance under their breath. Once he was sure they were well on their way back to the village, Cloud dropped lightly out of the tree and landed in a cat-like crouch. He stood and decided to head to the mansion; it was still early morning. 

It was time to wake Vincent.

A few minutes of light jogging later and Cloud was at the mansion, again feeling old memories try to surge forth. The eight year old shoved them back down, deep into the dark recesses of his mind and promptly ignored them. 

He quickly scrambled up the gate and dropped to the other side, managing not to stumble as he landed awkwardly on a stone and slid slightly. Shaking it off and making sure he hadn’t tweaked his ankle, Cloud made his way quietly to the window he’d entered through previously. 

Taking out the window pane was considerably easier and quicker than the time before. The boy quickly slipped inside through the window, landing lightly in the dust and almost sneezing as puffs of it rose to meet his small nose. He quickly stood and collected the sword he’d found before, retrieving it from its hiding place next to the fireplace with the fire pokers. Cloud pulled out the Odin materia and slotted it into place, immediately feeling safer; he really wasn’t comfortable wandering around in the mansion. 

That done, he made his way towards the basement. A short time later found him walking down a dark, dusty corridor and expecting Lost Number to pop out at any moment, very aware he didn’t have enough strength to kill the beast. However, the corridor came and went without any sign of the monster. Cloud breathed an inward sigh of relief.

At long last, Cloud found himself in the room with the coffins. The eight year old made a beeline for Vincent’s coffin, or what he was fairly certain was Vincent’s coffin. The boy set the too large sword down within easy reach and began heaving at the coffin lid. After much pushing and heaving, the reluctant lid finally creaked open and crashed to the floor.

A long, tattered red cape was the only thing Cloud saw before scarlet eyes flicked open and a golden claw shot from the coffin and closed around Cloud’s throat, slowly squeezing. The child scrabbled at the claw and kicked up desperately, his short leg managing to connect with Vincent’s chin. The red eyes blinked.

The ground made abrupt contact with Cloud’s tailbone and he winced, eyes watering slightly. Vincent had released his neck after realizing he held a child by the throat. Cool scarlet eyes stared down at the boy who was trying to breathe through a slightly crushed windpipe. After regaining his breath a moment later, Cloud looked up at Vincent, taking in the familiar handsome face, red headband, and tattered cape. His hair was the same as when he’d last seen the vampire-like Turk in the future, dark and layered. Cloud briefly found himself wondering how the ex-Turk didn’t stink and was still clean despite the many years in a dirty basement within a coffin.

“Who are you?” the deep voice startled Cloud marginally, though he didn’t show it.

“Cloud Strife,” he replied, standing carefully and maintaining eye contact. 

Vincent blinked slowly at him a moment before turning back to his coffin.

“You should leave this place. It’s not fit for children,” he stated simply.

Cloud’s small hand shot out and caught Valentine’s cape. 

“I’m much older than I look,” commented Cloud, his tone of voice causing the man to turn back and take a closer look.

Red eyes met blue and Vincent withheld his surprise; those large blue eyes were filled with old wounds, dark memories, and a wisdom that shouldn’t belong to a normal child. Similar in their darkness to Vincent’s own, but different. There was purpose in those eyes, and a soul deep determination that Vincent couldn't fathom. 

“Then how old are you really?” questioned the dark haired ex-Turk.

“Old enough to know who and what you are, Vincent Valentine,” stated Cloud quietly.

The scarlet eyes narrowed, suspicion colouring them slightly as they studied the child. The boy was delicate in appearance and quite small for his age. Chocobo-like hair stood up from his head and large blue, innocent-seeming eyes peered out through blond bangs. His skin was pale and unblemished aside from a smattering of bruises and cuts on his arms. A small, recent-looking scar stood out vividly above his eyebrow. 

“If you want to know what happened to Lucrecia and her son, don’t crawl back into that coffin,” the child continued conversationally as he let go of the tattered red cape. Cloud grabbed his sword and headed for the door, rubbing his sore tailbone though still managing to walk without limping. He paused in the doorway and turned to glance back at Vincent, “Oh. And if you would like a shot at Hojo, I can help with that.”

That said, Cloud vacated the room and disappeared through the door.

“Follow the boy,” rumbled a voice from deep within Vincent’s mind.

“To what end?” questioned Vincent mentally, long accustomed to Chaos’s meddling ways and desire to leave the basement’s confines.

“Answers to our predicament and your questions,” was the immediate answer.

Vincent sighed. The possibility for answers and vengeance on Hojo was hard to turn down, and Vincent’s natural curiosity about the world he’d abandoned was starting to rear its head, stretching like a cat that had slept too long in the sun. Pointed gold metal shoes followed the boy out of the basement.

Cloud felt himself smile a little, not hearing Vincent but rather instinctively knowing that he was following. Entering the library, Cloud picked up Vincent’s file and turned around to face the man. He held the file out to him. Red eyes blinked, the only way Vincent ever betrayed surprise.

“Project V,” prompted Cloud, “I figured you would want to read it. Most of the information in there by Hojo seems accurate, though there may be a few details he exaggerated or fabricated. He can be incredibly lazy when it suits him, apparently,” the blond continued briskly, allowing his real age to show in his speech and mannerisms. He briefly hesitated for a moment before adding softly, “Lucrecia… also seems to have added to the file.”

Another slow, red eyed blink. A gold, clawed hand emerged from the red folds of Vincent’s cape and took the file. 

“Where did you find this?”

“Tucked away and forgotten over there, on the middle shelf,” replied Cloud, slightly amused how Vincent had entered interrogation mode.

“How did you know I was in the basement?” asked the ex-Turk, turning the file over and examining the worn paper.

“Put some information together from some files,” Cloud answered, “I read your file, I hope you don’t mind…” he trailed off, internally wincing at the automatic lie.

Vincent shrugged. It didn’t particularly matter to him one way or the other. He didn’t think the child would tell anyone about him, or believe him if they did.

“You said that you knew about Lucrecia,” began Vincent, feeling slightly hesitant and unsure, which were emotions rarely acquainted with Vincent.

Cloud blinked, noticing the slight hesitation. “Well, I did basically promise that I would tell him,” thought the man-turned-boy. “Are you sure that you want to know?” Cloud asked, voice serious.

Vincent just gave him a level stare, red eyes revealing nothing and yet everything. Cloud sighed.

“Alright, then.”

Cloud moved over to the chair and took a seat, seeing no reason to stand uncomfortably for the duration of his explanation. Vincent eyed Cloud’s dangling, swinging feet in vague amusement that didn’t show on his face. Cloud wriggled slightly, trying to get comfortable in a more adult-like fashion. However, his legs just weren’t long enough. With a resigned sigh, Cloud simply pulled his legs up onto the chair and sat cross-legged. 

Blue eyes looking up, Cloud noticed Vincent watching him and caught the slight glimmer of amusement in the ex-Turk’s scarlet eyes. Cloud raised an eyebrow in return and gave a slightly crooked smile.

“I really am older than I look. Gaea just has a warped sense of humour and no understanding of human time and age,” the blond child said, feeling slightly defensive.

“How did you become like this? Was it Hojo?” Vincent asked, voice blank, though an almost feral growl blurred his voice when he said the scientist’s name, sounding like two voices instead of one; Chaos’s contribution no doubt.

“I thought you wanted to hear about Lucrecia?” Cloud deflected, ooking away.

Vincent gave a slight nod, noting the boy’s reluctance to give information where his own self was concerned.

“Then Lucrecia’s story it is,” said Cloud, running a small hand through his pale blonde spikes and making them even messier, “Get comfortable,” the eight year old advised.

The vampire-like man said nothing and continued standing where he was, though he leaned against the wall slightly. That was as comfortable as the ex-Turk would get and Cloud accepted it, taking a deep breath before he began.

He started with the current date and informed Vincent about some of the things going on in the world outside Nibelheim, including the mutterings of war, ShinRa’s current state, and the rising figures in ShinRa’s ranks. Vincent listened patiently, absorbing the information and waiting for the boy to work his way up to Lucrecia. After a time, he did.

“How much do you remember about Lucrecia, Vincent?”  asked Cloud, “At what point do you have no memories of her?”

Vincent was silent a moment, red eyes distant as he thought back. Images of Lucrecia collapsing frequently and suffering from visions Vincent could not protect her from, of her belly slowly getting larger with Hojo’s child, of Vincent finally confronting Hojo about what he’d done to his wife and child. Sudden, blinding pain and darkness closing around him. Blood filling his mouth and lungs. And then nothing. 

And somewhere in the nothingness of death, he recalled snatches of pain and brief moments of slight awareness until nothingness claimed him again. Eventually, the ex-Turk became aware of another presence alongside his own, deep in the recesses of his mind and body. He came to recognize it as Chaos, the very being who had killed his father and caused Lucrecia to blame herself. Over the many long years of resting in the coffin, Vincent had come to terms with Chaos and the two beings held a vaguely amicable relationship, though trust was almost non-existent.

Cloud waited patiently, recognizing and empathizing with Vincent’s distant gaze and unintentionally losing oneself in old, best forgotten memories. A few minutes of silence passed by before Vincent managed to pull his mind back to the present. His expression was no different, but there was an underlying something that Cloud couldn’t seem to pinpoint in the man’s face.

“She told me about my father and that she blamed herself. I remember her pregnancy, and that she let Hojo experiment with her unborn child and it caused some complications. And there are some…other things I don’t wish to speak of,” Vincent said, voice carefully blanked of any emotion.

Blue eyes regarded Vincent carefully, debating on how to inform Vincent of Lucrecia and Sephiroth. He decided on blunt and straightforward.

“Lucrecia is still alive, though has imprisoned herself as atonement for everything that happened. She can’t forgive herself and doesn’t think she deserves either life or death. So she has placed herself in a limbo of sorts. Her son, Sephiroth, is very much alive. He is strong, and was raised within ShinRa. He is their top Soldier and still subject to Hojo’s whims. If you want more details, you should go see her,” Cloud said, voice quiet. “Her cave is between here and the Gold Saucer, up in the mountain range,” he added. 

Vincent was silent for many long moments, processing all the information and revelations he had just been given. 

“What would you have me do? You are the one who woke me,” stated Vincent, “And I owe you for telling me of Lucrecia and giving me the Project V file.”

“Well…” 

Cloud paused, suddenly looking vaguely uncomfortable. Vincent regarded him carefully, wondering what had the child so discomfited. 

“Helping me train would be good, collecting information from Midgar and the outside world since my body is too young right now would be useful, as well,” admitted Cloud, unable to bring up becoming…friends with Vincent. That would hopefully come with time. “Though there is no rush. Do what you need to do, I’m not going anywhere for a while,” said Cloud wryly, voice quiet.

Vincent gave a slight nod, pushing off from the wall smoothly. He began moving in his graceful, almost supernatural way, heading for the door. He paused, still holding the file, at the door.

“I will return in two weeks,” said the ex-TURK. 

Cloud nodded and watched as the man disappeared in a red blur. The boy sighed, melancholy settling in. He knew that he and Vincent wouldn’t have the same kind of friendship as they had in the future, and was unsure if that would be a good or bad thing. Due to learning what Cloud had just told him and having woken up Valentine so much earlier than before, the man would probably turn out rather different as well. Cloud just didn’t know how all of it would work out, for better or worse. 

Nothing he could do about it now, though. 

Cloud stood outside the mansion, staring blankly into space. A violent wind whipped through the mountain air, causing Cloud’s small body to sway slightly and had him lift his arm to shield his eyes. A storm was rolling in, if Cloud was judging the sky correctly. The very air felt bitingly cold and dry, like sharp teeth biting into his flesh and scraping at his eyes.  

“Time to head home,” he thought. 

The storm swept in faster than Cloud had anticipated. Snow spiraled down from the overcast sky, already the mountain paths were being obscured and visibility was near zero.

Cloud kept up a litany of curses within his mind, saving his breath for pushing through the snow. His shorter legs meant that the piling snow would obstruct his way sooner than it would have if he still had his adult legs. 

His curses became ever more colorful as the storm intensified.

"Just great," he thought, resigned, "Suppose I'll have to build a shelter and hope I don't freeze."

Cloud quickly dug, the cold snow numbing his fingers and snowflakes catching on his eyelashes, threatening to freeze his eyes shut. His breath fogged the air less and less as he worked, the cold air leaching the warmth from his internal organs and matching it to the air outside his body. 

Minutes later, and Cloud was moderately shielded from the snow and wind. He had dug down and built up at roughly ninety degrees to the direction of the wind. Hopefully, he wouldn't get snowed in and buried alive.

"Now, I just have to wait," thought Cloud, curling up on the ground and hugging his knees to his chest as he sat with his back to the snowy wall he'd constructed.  

The Lifestream, moments after Cloud was seized by Gaea

"Isn't there anything we can do?" asked Zack, staring at the spot Cloud had just vanished from.

Aerith sighed, wishing that things were different for their friend, and desperately wishing that she could ease Zack's own pain. A thought abruptly struck her and hope coursed through her.

"Maybe not we, but perhaps..." Aerith trailed off, "I'll be right back!" she said hurriedly, her normally soft voice quick before she, too, vanished.

Zack stared after her, wondering what Aerith was thinking and what had caused her to rush off. It wasn't long before he found out. A moment later, shorter than it took him to say her name, Aerith was back. Her eyes were excited, the deep green sparkling.

"I have a way that you can help Cloud! Maybe not in the way you hope, but you can be by his side, like a guardian. I only have a few minutes, but I can send back your consciousness before the Planet finishes rewinding events," Aerith said in a rush, hardly pausing to breathe. 

"Really?" exclaimed Zack, hoping beyond hope. He'd left Spiky alone too long, dying on him like he did, leaving him to live both their lives. "But how? I thought the Planet only had enough juice to send his consciousness back," he asked, discarding the errant thoughts that had plagued him since his death.

"That's true," explained Aerith hurriedly, stepping closer to Zack, "but that has nothing to do with my Cetra power. And my mother and a few others are willing to lend me strength to get you back there. I don't know what shape you'll take though, we don't have the power to be able to override your past self's mind and swap you in, not to mention we might damage you by attempting it. You might end up as an animal or just a spirit."

"Will I be able to speak with him?" asked Zack, eyes serious.

"I believe so. You two have a strong bond, through life and death. Cloud is also tied to the Lifestream and the Planet, so his sensitivity will aid communication as well, since you've been in the Lifestream for many years," Aerith said.

Zack stood still, taking in the rapid amount of information Aerith just dumped on him. He digested it quickly, as he was trained to do when he was a Soldier, and reached an equally quick conclusion.

"Do it," said Zack, "Before we're out of time. I'm not letting Cloud do this alone."

Aerith nodded, smiling gently. She'd known what her boyfriend would choose.

"Alright, be safe and protect Cloud, will you?" she said, Zack pulling her in for a hug and a lingering kiss.

Aerith stepped back, braid swinging gently as she summoned her power and the power lent to her by her ancestors. She let it envelop Zack, guiding the power to do as she bid. In a single blink, Zack was gone. Her heart clenched, though she knew that she had done the right thing.

And not a moment too soon, she realized. She felt the pull of the Lifestream and the shuddering of the planet as every event and person was rewound, herself included.

"Goodbye, Zack. See you soon," she thought, a sad smile crossing her face before everything vanished, blurring green and white.

Nibelheim, present

Cloud was freezing. He could hardly feel his face, or his fingers. He stood carefully, already stiff from sitting in the snow and cold, though it had only been fifteen minutes at most. He shifted from foot to foot, flapping his arms and stamping his feet to reinvigorate his cold limbs. His core was still fine, but his extremities would suffer for it if he didn't get his blood pumping. 

As he was doing his odd impression of the chocobo dance, the wind died down. The blond frowned. Was he hearing things? The wind picked up again before dying down once more.

There it was again, under the sounds of wind and over the muting properties of falling snow. It sounded like whimpering. 

Cautiously, Cloud moved to the roughly hewn entrance of his dugout and peaked outside. At first, he didn't see anything, but as his eyes adjusted he noticed a white lump struggling as more snow clung to it, weighing it down. 

Cloud ventured out carefully, keeping an eye on his shelter so he wouldn't get lost in case of a sudden whiteout. He struggled his way through the feet of snow until he reached the struggling ball of white. As he brushed off the snow, dark grey-black fur became visible. Perplexed, Cloud watched as the fur shook itself, flinging snow every which way. 

With a sigh, Cloud picked up the fur. The snow was already piling onto it again. Might as well take it into the shelter he made so he could find out what it was. 

Once Cloud was within the meager shelter, he resumed brushing off the pile of shivering fur. Cloud wanted to thump his head, repeatedly. The mass of cold, wet fur... was a Nibel wolf puppy, not more than a few months old.

"I hope your mother doesn't come looking for you," said Cloud to the puppy, eight year old voice tired and teeth chattering slightly from cold. 

"I hope not, too. My ma is Gongaga-born, no way could she handle this freezing icicle of a town," a voice said cheerily, echoing slightly in Cloud's mind.

Cloud fell on his backside, blue eyes wide. 

"Zack?" he whispered, wondering if his mind had cracked again.

“Yo, Spiky!”

“How--? I mean, shouldn’t you be… elsewhere?” Cloud asked, struggling to comprehend what his senses were telling him. 

“Aerith,” said Zack simply, “And some of her Cetra friends and family. She had an idea just after the Lifestream took hold of you. We didn’t want you to be alone, not this time around. No pun intended,” he finished with a laugh.

Zack wriggled, getting accustomed to his small furry form. He tried to wag his tail, but only succeeded in wagging his hind quarters. Cloud couldn’t help the slight smile that grew on his face. It felt nice not to be alone, or at least having someone who knew who and what he truly was. He hadn’t realized how taxing it had become, hiding so much of himself from the people he loved. 

“Come on, Cloud, it’s okay. Cheer up! This time, we will get to finish our adventure together!” Zack said, puppy mouth grinning.

“Yeah, yeah. Calm down, you Puppy,” Cloud said, smirking slightly.

“Hey! You promised never to use that nickname!” Zack complained, giving a whine and endeavoring to use his wolf puppy eyes. 

“It’s not just a nickname anymore, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Cloud pointed out, lightly flicking Zack’s ear.

“Aerith said it was likely to happen, me inhabiting an animal. Somehow I’m not surprised to be in the body of a Nibel wolf,” Zack said with a laugh.

“Should we give you another name in this world?” asked Cloud, standing up and moving around in the limited shelter to keep his blood moving and warm. 

“I don’t mind staying Zack. I doubt it will raise any questions, even when you do meet up with younger me. “Zack” isn’t a terribly uncommon name, after all.”

“That’s true,” Cloud said, mind wandering as he considered the implications of having Zack along for everything he still had to do. 

Zack shook out his fur again, trying to warm up a bit more before crawling into Cloud’s lap. Blinking, Cloud looked down at him curiously, a question in his mako-less eyes.

“Warmth,” said Zack simply, circling around a bit more to get comfortable in the eight year old’s small lap, “By the way, has anyone ever mentioned that you make an adorable kid?” he continued with a teasing snicker.

“Shut up,” mumbled Cloud, lightly flicking Zack’s sensitive nose, abruptly feeling embarrassed about being seen in his childhood body.

An odd thought, that. Zack was going to see basically how Cloud grew up, bullies and all. Cloud felt suddenly thankful that Barret, Cid, and Yuffie weren’t around to witness his childhood; it was going to be awkward enough with just Zack, who was only slightly better than a bull in a china shop. 

“So… Do you have any plans, Cloud? On how to go about changing the future?” asked Zack, tilting up his small puppy head to look at his best friend.

Cloud blinked, distracted for a moment by Zack’s eyes staring at him through the face of a tiny Nibel wolf. The eyes were still a striking blue-green and human, far more vibrant than Cloud’s own softer blue without mako. Looking closer, Cloud could still see the mako-tint in Zack’s eyes, making the green in Zack’s blue eyes even more noticeable. 

Cloud frowned, ignoring Zack’s question. 

“I think this wolf puppy was exposed to mako. You still have mako showing in your eyes,” said Cloud, “I can’t think of another reason for it to be there, since only your spirit was brought back…”

“Seriously?” exclaimed Zack, “Though I guess I can’t be too surprised. The mako in this form probably made connecting my spirit to it easier, especially since I lived over half my life in a mako-tainted body anyway. It’s familiar,” he continued thoughtfully.

“A lot of animals and monsters around Nibelheim, at this time in particular, become tainted by mako. Most of them mutate, but a few simply adjust to it and become stronger than normal. That seems to be the case with this puppy you’re inhabiting,” Cloud responded, checking over Zack’s body for possible mutations or injuries, “Maybe he was born near the reactor…”

They were both silent for a while, listening to the storm outside the snowy little structure. Cloud shivered harshly.

“We should move around a bit,” Cloud said, “We are both in bodies that aren’t quite sturdy enough to deal with frostbite.”

Zack gave a small whine, but climbed off of Cloud’s lap. Cloud stood and began moving, stomping his feet and shaking out his arms and hands to get his circulation running faster.

“Why don’t you run through some katas or training exercises? If I could, I’d be doing squats,” said Zack, romping around in small circles to keep warm.

“You would,” said Cloud, shaking his head, a slight smile making its way onto his face. 

Obligingly, he began an easy sequence of punches. It felt odd. His mind was completely familiar with the movements, but his body was not. The dichotomy of that left him feeling clumsy and ill-fitting, as though wearing clothes too small in some places and too large in others. 

Zack noted this, but didn’t say anything. Time and practice would ease Cloud back into familiarity with the movements, especially once muscle memory came into play. Granted, he would have to repeat the process once puberty hit. Zack could recall with painful clarity when he went through it, emphasis on the painful; his elbows, knees, and head seemed magnetically attracted to every sharp and blunt object in his vicinity. Poor Cloud would have to go through all of that again, probably by the time he was fully accustomed to being a child again. 

The wolf puppy abruptly cocked his head, ears attentive. 

“I think the storm is over!” he said, tongue lolling from his mouth in happiness as he panted lightly, excited at the prospect of getting to leave the snow behind.

Cloud stopped moving, also listening. The blonde stepped out of the shelter, digging and shuffling through the snow that had steadily built up on and around the shelter. 

The storm was indeed gone, even the sun had reappeared. It was still achingly cold, but the snow was no longer falling, at least. Zack emerged from the shelter, looking comical as he pushed and jumped through the snow. 

“What now?” asked Zack, “Back into Nibelheim?”

Cloud nodded. “I’m not sure how my mom’s going to handle me bringing home a Nibel wolf puppy of all things, though,” he said wryly, starting the long walk down the mountain with Zack endeavoring to follow in his tracks.

“If she is anything like you, she will certainly fall for my charms,” Zack replied airily, somehow managing to convey a smirk though his muzzle as he tromped through the snow on his short four legs.

Cloud turned and stared down at Zack, a frown somewhere between a pout and a glare marring his young face. He couldn’t think of a reply, let alone a rebuttal; because, sadly, Zack was right. Cloud would never be able to really deny Zack anything. There was too much history, too much sadness. 

“Don’t look like that,” chided Zack. “Everything that happened was the way things were supposed to go. Because it all happened, you now have the experiences and memories to completely save the Planet and everyone. Not to mention, you get me!” Zack finished cheerily, “We can save Sephiroth and Angeal, maybe even Genesis!”

“Genesis? Angeal?” asked Cloud, “Who are they? I don’t—” 

Cloud abruptly trailed off, wincing as fractured images blazed through his mind.  A tall man, broad and muscular, dressed almost identically to Zack with the buster sword strapped to his back. Black hair in a slicked back version similar to Zack’s own, though without the feathered spikiness. White wings. 

“Embrace your dreams. If you want to be a hero you need to have dreams… and honor.”

The deep voice echoing through his mind resonated through his skull, simultaneously painful and deeply sad. More images forced their way through Cloud’s mind, this time of a red-haired man. The man had a black wing and a red coat that reached his calves, his rapier long and elaborate. Another voice with angerhatesorrow.

“Even if the morrow is barren of promises, Nothing shall forestall my return.”

Another voice was breaking through, slowly cutting through the images and voices until they scattered. 

“Cloud? Cloud! Spike, come on! Come back to me, buddy!” Zack’s anxious voice finally pushed the rest of the way through.

Cloud blinked. It felt like he was lying on soft ice, the cold pricking painfully at half of his face.

“When did I fall down?” was his first thought, promptly followed by, “Why did I fall down?”

Zack’s insistent whining and nudging of Cloud’s head prompted him to push himself up, albeit a little shakily.

“What happened?” asked Zack, “You were fine and then… you weren’t…”

“My mind broke again,” Cloud said quietly, simply. “It hasn’t done that in years, not since geostigma. I think those names you mentioned brought out some of your stronger memories, the ones I was comatose for.” Seeing Zack’s worried eyes, Cloud gave a shaky smile, “I’m alright,” he said, reaching over and scratching Zack’s ears. 

“No fair!” Zack wriggled, leaning into Cloud’s hand, enjoying the scratching far more than he thought he should.

Cloud smirked.

“It’s payback for all those years of you ruffling my hair when I was a trooper,” the blond child said.

“Oh, come on! Your hair is impossible to not ruffle at least once. Name one person who has never ruffled your hair,” said Zack, hopping and jumping through the snow in order to keep up with Cloud.

Cloud opened his mouth, about to list a number of people, not the least of which included Sephiroth.

“That is or was a friend,” Zack quickly clarified, realizing what Cloud was about to say.

Cloud frowned, thinking. A sudden thought had him brightening.

“Vincent!” he exclaimed, a smug smile breaking out onto his face. 

“He was a Turk, doesn’t count,” rebutted Zack. 

Zack’s denial of Vincent counting started a friendly banter that lasted almost all the way to Nibelheim. Once they reached the outskirts of the town, Cloud stopped, hesitant.

“I don’t think bringing a Nibel wolf puppy through the middle of town will endear either of us to anyone here,” Cloud said, “We should go around.”

Zack gave a nod, feeling a little odd. The last time he had seen Nibelheim, it was being razed to the ground by a mad Sephiroth. He marveled at Cloud’s strength; it took a great deal of fortitude to walk in the shadows of tragedy and act normally.  

The two carefully skirted around the fringes of the town, Cloud making doubly sure that Zack wasn’t spotted. When they finally arrived in front of Cloud’s home, the two were almost frozen, limbs numb and lungs tight. 

Cloud began climbing the few steps onto the porch before realizing that Zack wasn’t following. He turned around and found Zack’s small puppy form struggling to get onto the first step, paws slipping from clumsiness and cold. 

“I think I’ll have to carry you up,” said Cloud, looking slightly amused as he joined Zack at the base of the stairs.

“I think so, too,” sighed Zack resignedly, head down and ears drooping. 

Cloud picked him up, feeling Zack’s shivers wrack through his whole body. The blond carefully went up the steps and opened the door, albeit with some difficulty; it’s not easy for an eight year old to open a door while holding a soggy mass of shivering, wet fur. 

The two paused in the entryway, Cloud putting Zack on the floor while he struggled out of his shoes. That’s how his mother found him.

“Cloud! I was so worried! Are you alright?” Elle exclaimed, enveloping her son in a hug, “That storm blew in and you were still out in the mountains!”

“I’m fine, mom. I’m sorry…” Cloud said quietly, feeling bad for having worried her, returning her hug tightly. 

“Well, you’re home and safe. That’s all that matters,” Elle said, a tired smile crinkling her blue eyes. “You should go take a hot—” she trailed off, finally noticing the ball of wet fur near Cloud’s feet.

Her eyes widened and she gave a gasp, finally spotting the sopping wet and bedraggled wolf puppy. Zack immediately gave a sloppy puppy grin, tongue lolling out to the side of his mouth while he tried once again to wag his tail. 

Elle’s eyebrows narrowed with a near audible click, her face morphing into the expression all children know to instinctively fear. Cloud traded a quick worried look with Zack, both simultaneously feeling their stomachs drop.

“Cloud,” Elle said, drawing his name out slowly and giving a worryingly sweet, close-eyed smile, “Why is there a wet wolf puppy in my entryway?”

Cloud gulped nervously.

To be continued…..

Chapter Text

It took a every ounce of skilled reasoning Cloud possessed to convince his mother to let him keep Zack. He pointed out that the wolf puppy would make an excellent guard dog once fully grown, and that Cloud would take full responsibility for its care and training. Zack did his best to appear friendly and affectionate, attempting to ratchet up his "I'm adorable and harmless and recently orphaned, please let me stay" wolf puppy eyes. Cloud could see his mom softening to the idea.

As he spoke, Cloud had immediately started drying Zack off with an old towel placed in the entryway for when the weather was particularly foul and wet. This show of care, as well as Cloud's quiet logic, finally convinced Elle to let her son keep the Nibel wolf. 

Once Cloud was done drying Zack, she sent Cloud and the puppy to the boy's bedroom to finish drying off. Zack stayed at Cloud's heels and on his best behavior, maintaining his innocent puppy façade all the way till dinner. 

Cloud and Elle didn't seem to eat much, but the food the small family shared was simple and filling, with Cloud giving Zack an extra share of his own meal because he knew Zack's growing form would need the calories and protein. Based on the portion size and style of food, Zack figured the small family weren't particularly well-off. He would need to figure out a way to chip in; Zack's own mother would beat him senseless if he burdened his new little family (Gaea knew Mrs. Fair lamented the amount of food a growing Zack had inhaled).   

As those first few days passed, Zack observed the small family closely and came to a few conclusions. To start, he had been correct in thinking that the Strifes weren't well off; they were legitimately poor. Zack may not always be the most observant, but he had noticed the state of Cloud's home. Everything was old, though well cared for, and furnishings were sparse. There were little projects scattered around the living area, side crafts that Elle put together and sold to make ends meet. 

There were snares by the door that Cloud regularly set up in the forest to catch wild game. Zack made a habit of going with him, as the first time he didn't, Cloud came back empty handed with a bloodied lip and nose. He went out first thing the next morning and reset the traps, simply telling Zack that they needed the meat.

Everything spoke of practicality and need, except a little bookshelf and desk off in a corner of the living room. The desk was empty aside from a few writing utensils and notebooks, and the bookshelf held a number of old, worn books. Some were classic plays and short stories, while others were obviously books on mathematics and different sciences, as well as healing and current medical practices. There were even a few that seemed to be about different deities and the mythos of materia and mako. 

Elle herself was a bit of a mystery to Zack. She had a graceful air to her and was obviously highly educated. She insisted that Cloud learn everything she had to teach him, which was just as well because the school itself didn't have a very good curriculum. She still made Cloud attend, some part of her hoping that it might make things easier on Cloud eventually, and that perhaps he might make a friend. 

The other thing Zack noticed was that Elle and Cloud Strife were treated as the town pariahs, and he couldn't figure out why. After the first week of watching the ill-treatment and bullying, Zack could no longer contain himself.

"What the hell is up with this town?" he growled, "Why does everyone treat you and your mom so badly? There's no reason for it!"

Cloud sighed, shifting the small empty shoulder bag as he carefully descended down the rock strewn path.

"You lasted longer than I thought you would," Cloud said wryly, a small grin on his face. 

"What do you mean?" asked Zack, tongue lolling out as he slid slightly, the small rocks under his paws skittering down the steep trail.

"I figured you would ask sooner," replied Cloud, shifting his shoulder in a small shrug.

He had just reached the bottom of the path where the ground evened out in front of a cave when the sound of falling rocks and Zack's yelp of surprise reached his ears. The blond turned around just in time for Zack's flying leap to strike his chest, sending them both tumbling into the mouth of the cave. 

Cloud groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Sometimes, I really do miss the stupid mako," Cloud grumbled.

"You okay, buddy?" asked Zack sympathetically, clambering to his feet and giving himself a shake.

Cloud stood carefully, still holding his head.

"I'm okay, Zack," the blond said, giving the wolf a smile, "But next time, please give me some warning before you come flying at me. I'm not as big as I used to be."

Zack snickered, "You've never been big, Cloud, except for your gravity defying chocobo hair."

Cloud glared, "Shut up, Puppy!"

"Oi! No using that stupid nickname!" growled Zack, baring his small, needle-like teeth at his friend. 

"You started it," shrugged Cloud, "Anyway, we should go collect the mako crystals before it gets dark."

"Is that why we're here? I can smell a large amount of mako coming from deeper in the cave," said Zack curiously. 

Cloud nodded. "My mother makes jewelry using the crystals from the edge of mako pools. They turn out quite nice and sell for a decent amount. This is the first time she's asked me to collect them though. She wanted to do it herself today, but she was called in by Miss Glannis," Cloud said, heading deeper into the cave.

"Who's Miss Glannis?" asked Zack, trotting after Cloud.

"Brigid Glannis is Nibelheim's official healer and midwife, and one of the only people here that treats my mom well," explained the blond, "She employed my mom as her assistant shortly after I was born."

"I see," said Zack, paws silent as he trotted over the rough stone.

The two were quiet as they entered the cave, both wary of stumbling upon any inhabitants that might reside within the cave. 

"I admit, I kinda miss walking on two legs," sighed Zack suddenly, "And having opposable thumbs," he added, mostly as an afterthought.

"Why is that?" Cloud asked quietly, carefully sidestepping a small puddle of mako.

"I'd be able to protect you and your mother, and possibly change how they treat you here... Or just take you two to Gongaga. My mom would likely adopt the both of you," Zack laughed, tongue lolling out of his mouth in a puppy grin.

"I'd love to meet her one day," Cloud said, a half smile on his lips as he glanced down at his friend. "She could tell me all of your embarrassing stories," he continued, smile changing into a smirk.

"Shut up, you runt," Zack shot back good-naturedly, "Remember, I live with you now. I get to see all your embarrassing moments first-hand."

Cloud glared down at Zack.

"I'm gonna buy a muzzle one of these days," muttered Cloud, "And a leash."

"Hah! That would be a sight! Little Cloud, trying to walk his giant Nibel wolf. I'd drag your ass all over this icy town," he snickered. 

Cloud rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything in return. He had no rebuttal, because once again, Zack was right. Nibel wolves grew larger and faster than other canines, more-so if the wolf was exposed to mako as Zack had been. 

The two fell quiet once more as they walked deeper into the cave. The shadows deepened, but it didn't grow darker. There was a faint glow towards the back of the cave that provided just enough light for the pair's eyes to adapt to the darkness. 

Cloud didn't notice at first, his feet automatically adjusting, but the ground began to gently slope downward and the glow from the mako pool became brighter. He and Zack rounded a curve and abruptly stopped. Cloud's blue eyes widened and he heard Zack's paws stumble slightly. 

"My mom.... Calls this a mako pool?" Cloud said, disbelief evident in his voice.

"Your mother seems to have a talent for understatement," Zack agreed, his tone somewhere between amusement and shock. 

What Cloud's mother had called a mako pool was in fact the size of a small lake. The glow from the natural mako was beautiful and soft, unlike what Cloud and Zack remembered from the labs and Shinra's mako reactors. 

Cloud abruptly dropped into a crouch, letting his hands fall loosely to touch the ground and resting his head on his knees. Zack looked askance at him, raising a mental eyebrow. Cloud returned the look and let out a long gusty sigh.

"I forgot how much my mother exhausts me," he said simply, turning his head to look at his companion.

Zack let out a bark of a laugh, "I think that's something all mothers do."

"I honestly don't really remember," Cloud said, turning his blue gaze to regard the lake of mako. 

"Maybe not, but you don't really mind," Zack replied, also turning his mako-green eyes to the lake.

Cloud nodded after a moment and then stood.

"I should start collecting the crystals," he said, picking his way down to the edge of the lake.

"Just don't slip," called Zack, laying down and getting comfortable on the rocky ground.

"I'm not that much of a clutz," Cloud said irritably.

"So you say," snickered the former Soldier, "I remember differently when you were a trooper."

"I'm gonna turn him into a rug, damn Puppy," Cloud muttered to himself.

"Now that's just hurtful," pouted Zack, "My ears are much sharper now. Be nice or I'll bite you."

"If you do, I'll just ship you off to the younger you. I doubt you'll remember to feed yourself," Cloud shot back.

Zack blinked in consternation for a few moments. 

"Damnit, that makes my head hurt," groaned Zack, "And you're right, my kid self definitely wouldn't be able to take care of a pet right now..."

"Told you," Cloud smirked.

As he spoke, Cloud walked along the edge of the glowing lake, following the curve further into the mako onto what resembled a miniature peninsula; there were a good many mako crystals at the end of it.

Zack perked up as he watched Cloud step out onto the rock. He wanted to yell at the small boy to be careful, but he didn't want to startle him either. Instead, he got up onto his paws and padded quietly closer to where Cloud was collecting the crystals, just in case. 

The blond finished collecting the crystals and fastened the bag shut; it would be unfortunate if the mako pieces fell out. As he made his way back, taking careful steps with his small feet, the ground shook and rumbled violently, as though someone had started a quake spell.

Zack was knocked off his paws and rolled partially into the mako. The wolf puppy let out a pained howl, scrambling desperately to get himself out of the natural mako, mostly just succeeding in splashing more of the burning liquid all over his black fur. It felt like minutes, but in reality was merely a few seconds before he was able to pull himself out of the lake. 

Once he was out, Zack looked around frantically.

"Cloud!"

But there was no reply. 

"He didn't fall in... Right?" he wondered, his worry increasing to panic, "Shit! He definitely fell in!"

Zack started a limping run out onto the peninsula, mentally shouting for Cloud all the while. When he reached the end of the little peninsula, he edged as close as he could and tried to peer through the glowing mako.

A flash of something dark caught his eye.

"Is that--?"

Without thinking, Zack plunged his head into the mako and bit down hard. The wolf felt cloth and blood between his teeth, and began to pull. Ignoring the burn in his eyes and mouth, Zack kept pulling until Cloud's bloodied arm emerged from the mako, quickly followed by blond hair and a frighteningly pale face.

Cursing with every swear word he knew, Zack struggled to bring Cloud the rest of the way out of the mako. Wet paws scrabbling for purchase, Zack just managed to pull the small eight year old out and off of the peninsula; he didn't want to risk the kid slipping in again. 
 
That done, Zack placed his ear next to Cloud's nose and mouth. He wasn't able to feel Cloud breathing at first, but after a few moments Cloud began coughing harshly. Zack quickly grabbed the boy's shirt with his teeth and tugged Cloud onto his side.

The blond continued coughing, viscous glowing mako dripping out of his mouth in streams until his body heaved and Cloud retched. Zack watched helplessly as his friend vomited out the mako he'd unintentionally swallowed. He was forcibly reminded of when he pulled Cloud out of Hojo's mako tank; the blond had spent hours, if not days, expelling mako and unable to keep down food and water. 

Around five minutes passed before Cloud finally collapsed, body exhausted and on the verge of passing out. 

"Cloud? Please don't be comatose on me again..."

Zack's tentative voice filtered through the burning green haze, concern apparent. Cloud forced his eyes open, blinking harshly and eyes watering, trying to flush the mako from his eyes. 

"Why do you always save me from the mako?" Cloud asked hazily, unaware he wasn't using his voice to form the words.

"You scared the hell out of me, buddy," Zack replied quietly, a relieved smile in his eyes.

"Sorry," the blond replied, grinning tiredly in response, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, took a half dip into the mako initially and then dunked my head in to pull you out after I realized you fell in," Zack explained.

"Thanks," Cloud said, smiling slightly, "Can you help me up?"

"Maybe," Zack said, pushing himself up onto tired, burning paws.

It took some maneuvering and a few breaks before Cloud was up on his feet. He reached down with trembling hands and picked Zack up, cuddling him to his chest despite Zack's yelp of protest.

"Between the mako and the rock, your paws are in bad shape," Cloud explained, "Not to mention, your body is beginning to absorb the mako. Your eyes are starting to glow. You'll probably pass out soon to sleep it off and fully integrate it into your body."

"What about you? You're barely able to stand right now. The mako has destroyed your throat for the moment, and your eyes are beginning to glow! I bloodied your arm pretty badly when I bit it to drag you out, too.... You're in worse shape than I am, not to mention you're now able to communicate with me directly from your mind to mine!"

"Oh," Cloud said aloud, surprised, and promptly winced at the pain and ragged sound of his voice, "I hadn't noticed..."

"And that's another thing, you're not operating on full cylinders right now," Zack pointed out dryly.

Cloud continued his stumbling walk, using the cave walls to support himself while clutching Zack to his chest. The puppy subsided, grumbling to himself about stubborn idiots who don't listen when people are worried. 

Said idiot grinned to himself, listening to his friend mutter and just glad the wolf hadn't died from overexposure to the natural mako; it's far more dangerous, but the effects are many times higher than mako from the labs or the reactors. However, the chances of adapting to it are slim to none.

The fact he and Zack were still alive, if in bad shape, had Cloud wondering if the Planet interfered. Again.

"Especially with the timing of that tremor. What are the chances it would happen while I'm in a mako cave right next to the damn stuff?" he thought grimly.

The remaining trek to the mouth of the cave passed in a stumbling blur to Cloud, who was simply focusing on keeping Zack in his grasp and his hand touching the wall of the cave so he wouldn't fall over. Zack, true to Cloud's prediction, had passed out. The wolf's young form would need time to adjust to the higher amount of mako now residing in its system.

Cloud knew, in a distant part of his brain, that he would pass out soon as well. He also knew that he didn't have enough time to get Zack and himself home before then. Cloud wasn't sure what his plan was, other than to get out of the cave. All thinking was suspended in favor of keeping himself moving; the burn of the mako and his spiking temperature were hindrances and consummately ignored, as was the blood steadily dripping down his arm. 

A few more minutes and he was out of the cave, the light of the sunset casting soft shadows around the area and sending black spots skittering across his vision. He took a deep breath and removed his hand from the wall of the cave, using it to support Zack's still limp form as he took unsteady steps back towards the trail. 

Cloud's confidence grew when he didn't immediately fall on his face.

"Okay. I've been shot, tortured, experimented on, stabbed more times than I can count by Sephiroth, and survived friendship with Barret and Cid. Slight mako poisoning can't stop me from getting Zack and I back to the village," Cloud thought, gritting his teeth against a particularly sharp stab of pain in his skull.

His confidence lasted until his foot slid on the same loose shale that had sent Zack, and consequently Cloud, tumbling down earlier. Clutching the unconscious puppy as best he could, he tucked himself protectively around Zack as they fell and slid their way down the rocky trail, coming to a painful landing back near the cave mouth in a cloud of dust and debris.

Cloud groaned, accidentally inhaling dirt and dust while he shifted Zack off to the side. The sneeze and subsequent coughing that followed ravaged his already injured throat and had him spitting out dusty saliva tinged with blood. 

The blond collapsed after his coughing fit, exhausted limbs finally done. Cloud gritted his teeth, straining against the weakness in his body and trying to get himself upright again. He was unsuccessful, much to his frustration.

A heavy gust of air swept around him, chilling his fevered skin and sending his dusty hair into his eyes.

"Damnit. Looks like we're stuck until my body decides it can withstand walking without falling over," Cloud thought, trying to not let bitterness color his thoughts as he weakly pushed too-long-for-his-taste hair out of his face; the small pony tail constantly brushing against his neck was slowly convincing him to hack it off, despite the fact he'd apparently used to fight his mom on cutting it.

After giving himself a short time to rest, Cloud managed to drag his and Zack's bodies a little further into the cave for shelter, away from Mt. Nibel's frost laden wind. Gently, Cloud shifted Zack closer, smiling slightly as the puppy burrowed the rest of the way into his side, Cloud's fever-ridden body providing a comfortable warmth for the wolf puppy. 

That done, Cloud finally allowed the exhaustion to wash over him, sending his tired mind spiraling into darkness as he passed out. 

Cloud's last conscious thought being that he missed his bike; walking and hiking really sucked, after all.

Chapter Text

Vincent Valentine had always been a man of few words, generally letting action explain what words could not. The "visit" he'd had with Lucrecia had cleared up many things he'd needed to know, but had also thrown his mind and heart into further turmoil. He felt love and hatred in equal measure to the woman he tried to save. Sadly, she didn't know anything regarding her son, and when she'd asked, he'd been unable to give her even that modicum of comfort (though Vincent wondered if he would have been willing to give it to her even if he had). 

Betrayal cuts deep, after all.

Following that conversation, Vincent had left, leaving Lucrecia to fall back into slumber; it seemed she was unable to stay awake for long periods. Feeling vaguely numb despite Chaos' restlessness, Vincent did what he did best: he began to gather information, trying to get up to speed on the advances of technology and the status of the world. He'd learned much. There were murmurs of war with Wutai on the horizon, though from what the former Turk had seen, skirmishes had already begun. It would only be a short time before war truly began.

President Shinra and the higher ups of the company were just as corrupt as he remembered. As he watched the president and his son, Rufus, at an impromptu press conference on the Plate, something niggled at Vincent, as if he noticed something without being fully aware of what it was he'd noticed. Vincent let it go for the moment, knowing his mind would make the connection on its own eventually.

Veld was still alive and appeared to be leading the Turks; Vincent wasn't surprised. Despite the general life-expectancy of those within the company, Veld was one of the ones he'd been sure would manage to stay alive. Veld seemed to have a daughter, but it appeared complicated in the way Turk relations usually were.

Old partners aside, Sephiroth was the one Vincent wanted -needed- to see. He was saddened, though not at all surprised, to see that Sephiroth was with the company, an up-and-coming Soldier, and practically a walking advertisement for the SOLDIER program and Shinra despite being only fifteen years old. He didn't seem to have much of a life outside of fighting and navigating the heavy web of politics within Shinra.

Vincent had only managed to glimpse Hojo once before he disappeared into the bowels of the science department. As far as Vincent could tell, Hojo had the president's ear and a good deal of Shinra's budget, and was continuing with the SOLDIER experiments. It had taken all of Vincent's control to not simply kill the man right there and be done with it. He'd stayed his hand, fingers clenching convulsively on Cerberus until Hojo's greasy form left his sight. Cloud seemed to know more about what was going on within the underbelly of Shinra and the science department...

And so he would wait.

Currently, Vincent was in the slums. Unenjoyable as it was, the Sector slums were one of the best places to gather information. The gloom, the stench, the trash littering every available area, and even the people, all seemed to be in shades of grey and brown. Shinra's neglect ran deep, and the corruption even deeper. Vincent could see it all too clearly: the drug transactions, the stealing, killing, and prostitution that Shinra allowed (and secretly encouraged). He was fairly certain he'd also spotted members of the terrorist group AVALANCHE lurking around, trying to gain information on the science department and the Shinra family.

Vincent casually blocked a pickpocket's nimble fingers, the startled teen jerking back and quickly skittering off to his waiting friends. The former Turk continued on his way, most of the people in his vicinity maintaining at least a few feet of distance from his red-cloaked form.

He was carefully following someone he knew to be a Turk, their suited form sinuous and confident, slipping through alleyways and people alike. Despite Vincent's rather eye-catching appearance, he somehow managed to remain unseen, despite the Turk's frequent glances around and into blind-spots; Vincent imagined, if the Turk had been trained half as well as himself, that the suited man could tell on some level that he was being watched.

Vincent felt his lips twitch in what might once have been a smirk as he slid out of view behind a rather large pile of rotted boards and other trashed items. The Turk he was following glared around the street again, shaking his head in irritation and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to calm down before resuming his trek through the sector.

The former Turk backed off, following the other man at a more discreet distance; Vincent didn't want the man to abort his current mission after all. Vincent wanted to find out what could be the Turks', and by extension Shinra's, interest down in the slums.

Vincent followed the man through an abandoned playground, passing a slide with small monsters residing in the shadows. The Turk passed them by, apparently unconcerned about monsters residing so close to human settlements.

Dark eyes watched from a distance, Vincent's red cloak somehow managing to fade and blur into the murky surroundings as though it were a living thing.

For all the former Turk knew, perhaps it was. There was no telling exactly what all Hojo had done to him, let alone the effects of it all.

Around fifteen minutes of walking later found Vincent's target surreptitiously stepping into the doorway of a partially collapsed building near a rather startling sight. A large church stood, scant rays of sunlight beaming down onto its roof and single spire, remnants of stained glass glowing in the half light. Dust motes danced in the beams of haloed light and Vincent couldn't seem to stop staring, a tight knot in his chest he hadn't realized was there loosening the longer he gazed at the building.

Vincent gave himself a mental shake, refocusing on the task at hand. Another Turk had appeared while Vincent was distracted, looking surprisingly young to Vincent's eyes, perhaps eighteen or nineteen. The suited Turk had long black hair, the upper layers swept back out of his vaguely Wutaiin face. A single dark spot resided in the center of his forehead.

Vincent observed carefully, his gaze sharp. The boy-Turk would bear watching. Even at a distance, Vincent could tell the boy lived and breathed his Turk training. The suit couldn't disguise the graceful and carefully controlled movements of a skilled fighter. More than that, however, was the fact that those dark, almond-shaped eyes had nearly picked out Vincent's hiding place, and those same eyes practically gleamed with hidden intelligence as they swept around the area.

"Tseng?" the other Turk asked, also glancing around.

The boy-Turk (Tseng, Vincent memorized), gave a slight shake of his head in dismissal.

"Is she in there?" the other Turk asked instead, voice low and and quiet.

"Yes. Apparently growing flowers," Tseng spoke, looking amused.

"So, what should we do?"

"If no one asks, we needn't tell. She must come willingly, in any case," stated Tseng, throwing a glance back at the church, "We will keep watch over her, discreetly. The slums are notoriously unsafe, after all."

"I'll arrange a small group to patrol down here in shifts. I know a few who were recruited from down here in the slums. If anyone notices, it won't be questioned."

Tseng gave an approving nod and the other Turk left, quickly vanishing down another alley, no doubt eager to get his work done so he could have the rest of the day off. A few minutes passed before Tseng stepped out of the doorway.

"Are you going to come out, or do I need to find you?" Tseng spoke, voice not loud but still carrying easily to Vincent's sensitive ears.

Vincent debated for a moment before partially emerging out onto the edge of a nearby roof, crouched rather like a gargoyle. Tseng glanced up at him, dark eyes widening in muted shock.

Partially in the shadows as he was, Vincent's crimson eyes seemed to glow. Tseng froze slightly at the sight, eyes automatically cataloging details: glowing red eyes, pale skin, long and messy dark hair held back by a red bandanna. A golden claw visible and lightly clutching the edge of the roof. A tattered, dark (red again?) cloak.

"Who are you? What business do you have here?" Tseng asked evenly, drawing his gun and aiming it swiftly at the man(?) above him.

Vincent stayed silent, letting the moment stretch slowly into awkwardness as minutes passed. Tseng kept his gun trained on Vincent, feeling something between admiration for how utterly still the man above him was, and wariness at that same unnatural stillness; it didn't even look as though the man was breathing.

The deep, almost guttural sound of the voice above him startled Tseng badly, though thankfully his body hadn't reacted to the surge of adrenaline or he might have fired his gun on instinct.

"I was once what you are now."

And with that rather cryptic sentence, the man (Demon? Vampire?) was gone, vanished without a sound. Tseng never thought he could doubt his own senses quite so thoroughly.

"This will make for an unusual report," Tseng thought, shaking his head and holstering his gun.

Contrary to Tseng's assumption, Vincent didn't vanish. At least, not far. He leapt up and slipped through the hole in the roof of the church, curious as to why the church had garnered the Turks' attention. The girl he found inside both answered his question and created more.

The girl, perhaps a little older than Cloud in Nibelheim, was quietly humming as she tended a small patch of flowers blooming in a hole in the floorboards of the church. Her auburn hair shone slightly in the light, the twisted ponytail swaying against her back and her small brown boots blending with the bare earth beneath.

Vincent frowned slightly. He could feel Chaos reacting to the girl, restless and uncomfortable.

"The girl... She reminds me of something. Something old... And powerful," rumbled Chaos, his presence shifting and churning in unease.

"Like the boy?" asked Vincent sharply, eyes still watching the little girl as she tenderly re-planted a wilting flower into a sunnier spot.

"No. The boy is different. Out of time, and displaced, but still exactly where he is supposed to be. I do not understand him... Yet."

The pleased, curious growl of Chaos' voice worried Vincent, though he knew nothing he said to the demonic WEAPON would change anything.

"Speaking of the boy... You should return to the mountains. Back to Nibelheim," hissed Chaos, "The Planet has been...meddlesome."

"What do you mean?" Vincent questioned, immediately crossing the beams of the church roof and leaping back out through the hole he previously entered through; Chaos was many things, but he did not lie (which often made him far more cruel).

To Vincent's mild frustration, Chaos remained silent, receding back to the depths of Vincent's mind and leaving the former Turk vaguely concerned and unconsciously rushing to get back to the blond not-child.

"I suppose it's time to return to Cloud as promised."

Upon Vincent's return, he decided to have a look at the small town, curious if anything had changed since he last walked through it. He was unsurprised to find not much had changed. The people were older, the town a little more weathered. Someone had repaired the previously damaged water tower at the center of the town, and there was now a small building on the outskirts that served as a school. Perhaps there were more children than there used to be.

Vincent sensed fewer monsters than before, wondering briefly if that was perhaps Cloud's doing. The man continued on, skirting the buildings and the main street filled with the day-to-day bustle of the townspeople, and making his way further outside the village, correctly assuming Cloud lived on the fringe of Nibelheim.

What looked like a small, frequently-used deer trail wended away from the last few houses before the main path that lead deeper into the mountains and to the Shinra Manor. Vincent followed it, and a few minutes later he found a small home. A few wooden steps lead to a sturdy front door, weathered grey from the elements. A pretty blonde woman stood in the doorway, worrying her lower lip with well-cared for teeth and calloused hands clenching at a dishtowel.

"Cloud's mother," Vincent realized, quickly dodging off the path and into the trees.

Just in time, as it turned out. The sound of running feet from behind him had Vincent turning quickly, hand automatically reaching to draw Cerberus from the holster on his leg. His hand stilled, however, realizing it was just a boy.

"Mrs. Strife!" the boy called, breaths coming in easy pants as he jogged up to the woman.

"Mikael! Have you found him?" she asked, voice calm and in control despite a slight tremble in her lips.
 
"No. And no one's seen him in town recently, either. D'you think he's hurt?" Mikael asked, eyes wide and worried.

"I'm sure he's fine," Elle replied soothingly, "Probably just got distracted while playing with his puppy."

"Puppy?" Mikael asked curiously, "What puppy?"

Elle smiled slightly, glad she had successfully distracted the boy from his worry.

"Cloud came down from the mountain a couple days ago carrying an orphaned Nibel wolf puppy," explained Elle, a rueful smile on her lips.

"Cool," grinned Mikael, looking impressed.

The blonde shook her head, smiling.

"Boys," she said, a small laugh escaping while Mikael rubbed the back of his head, abashed. "You should go home, it's getting late and your mother will worry," she continued, making a shooing motion with her hand, "Cloud will show up soon, I'm sure."

"Alright, Mrs. Strife. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" he called over his shoulder, already making his way back up the rock strewn path.

Elle waved him off with a nod and a smile that melted away as soon as Mikael was out of sight. Vincent watched as Elle stepped back inside, closing the door.

Silent feet ghosted across the ground until Vincent was positioned beneath a window that looked into the home's kitchen. Pulling a slim blade out from beneath his cloak, the former Turk slipped the knife's point into the slide of the window and gently flicked the latch-style lock open. The window successfully unlocked, Vincent cracked it open less than an inch and began listening.

Elle was on the phone and speaking worriedly.

"I'd asked him to go up to the caves, to get some mako crystals since I was running low, but he isn't home yet. He should have been back hours ago!"

Elle paused, listening to the phone.

"I should never have asked him to go," she fretted, pacing and eyes glistening though no tears fell.

Vincent didn't wait any longer, quickly and silently closing the window before dashing up the path and into the woods, red cloak flowing silently behind him as he vanished into the lengthening shadows.

Cloud woke with a muffled groan, body burning and aching fiercely. It was a prolonged moment before Cloud was aware enough to register that he was being carried. The moment he did, he tensed, about to struggle. The arms around him tightened instantly and Cloud gave a quiet pained moan, the bite from Zack flaring hotly and the dried, congealed blood cracking and oozing.

"You're awake."

"Vincent?" Cloud croaked, voice still raw and painful.

"You seem to have taken a mako bath. That's not good for you," Vincent stated, voice quiet and soft.

"Didn't do it on purpose," the blond whispered.

"I would think not," came Vincent's desert-dry response.

"Did you have to put me in a bridal hold?" Cloud frowned, lips tugging into a small frown as his thoughts bounced around in no semblance of order and unable to focus.

"I assumed you didn't want to leave the puppy behind. I couldn't carry the both of you comfortably any other way," replied Vincent, glancing down in concern at the boy's quiet, damaged voice.

Cloud blinked blearily, hazy blue eyes focusing on the ball of fur curled up and cradled on his stomach.

"Oh," he responded belatedly, unable to muster concern at having not noticed Zack's presence on his own stomach.

The two fell silent. Cloud vaguely wondered how Vincent was able to move through the forest so quietly with his feet encased in pointed gold sabatons, before his mind rabbited on to wondering where Vincent was taking him, and then leaping to Tifa's young face and large, innocent brown eyes that he hadn't seen in far too many years.

Cloud cursed abruptly, startling Vincent into raising his eyebrows and glancing down at Cloud's blond head.

"Has Tifa's mom died yet?" Cloud asked, voice frantic and raised more than was comfortable, triggering a long spasm of bloody coughs.

Vincent waited for Cloud to stop coughing, though he didn't stop walking and instead began to speed up.

When the coughs died down, Cloud asked again, "Tifa's mother. Mayor Lockhart's wife. Has she died yet?"

"Not to my knowledge," Vincent replied, recalling seeing the woman briefly on his way through town, holding hands with a girl about Cloud's age.

Cloud relaxed, slumping back into Vincent's hold.

"Good. I still have time..." slurred Cloud, shakily lifting a hand to rest in Zack's soft fur.

"Time?" murmured Vincent, glancing again at Cloud.

"Before it all happens again. Don't want to lose her, or anyone else from AVALANCHE, and Zack and Aerith. Even the Turks weren't so bad in the end," Cloud mumbled hazily, head lolling slightly as he lost the fight to keep it up.

"Mako poisoning. Not advanced, but enough to have him acting inebriated," thought Vincent clinically.

It took only a few more minutes to reach the Shinra Mansion, but as Vincent leapt over the front gate, landing softly as a whisper, Cloud finally lost the battle to stay conscious.

With quick, precise movements, Vincent entered the mansion with Cloud and the wolf still cradled carefully in his arms, ever wary of accidentally crushing their fragile bodies with his claw and enhanced strength.

Considering his options and rapidly filtering through what little he knew about the child in his arms, Vincent carried his burdens upstairs and into one of the abandoned bedrooms, laying the boy and the wolf onto the bed. It was dusty, but Vincent didn't have anything clean to lay them on, and he doubted the strange boy would react well to waking from mako poisoning while in Hojo's old lab.

Leaving the two in the room, Vincent rushed downstairs and into the labs, grabbing anything that might prove useful. It had been many years since he last used first aid on anyone, though thankfully he remembered how to treat external wounds and mako poisoning (although he'd never dealt with both at the same time).

He quickly made his way back upstairs, easily balancing the supplies in his arms. Vincent deposited everything onto the floor next to the bed, reaching out a hand to check the boy's pulse.

A little fast, but remarkably steady and strong. He pulled back one of Cloud's eyelids and blinked in surprise; there was a faint ring of mako-green beginning to show around the blond's pupil.

"Is this what you meant, Chaos? About the Planet interfering?" Vincent wondered, directing it towards the void that existed in the back of his mind.

As expected, Vincent received no reply, but he didn't really need one. A small, slightly malnourished child did not typically survive a full-body dunk into a pure mako spring without some kind of intervention.

"Let alone simply adjusting to it with hardly any ill effects," Vincent thought sardonically, continuing the check over the boy's body for any sign of mutation or other injuries.

Despite the bite wound, which looked like it had been torn and irritated, and the fever and some cuts and bruises, Cloud was in fairly decent shape. Vincent shook his head slightly in amazement and got to work.

The bite was bad and needed cleaning, but thankfully didn't seem to require stitches. The rubbing alcohol and butterfly bandages worked well enough to clean and hold the edges of the wound together, and the bleeding was already sluggish and clotting well.

He used a simple bandage to cover the bite and Vincent was done. With the bite taken care of, the only worry was the fever and possible dehydration. Vincent had found a few bags of saline and the equipment to set it up properly, but he hoped Cloud would wake before he had to administer it.

There wasn't much he could do for Cloud's mako-ravaged throat; it would have to heal on its own unless they found a potion or a cure materia, which was unlikely. And so Vincent shifted the blond further onto the bed, positioning the boy carefully against the pillows.

Having done what he could for Cloud, Vincent turned his attention to the wolf, who appeared to be suffering from mako poisoning as well. There wasn't anything he could do for the puppy except to make it comfortable. Vincent simply shifted him closer to Cloud on the bed, sensing the connection might help them both; the boy seemed rather attached to the wolf from what little he'd seen.

Vincent had briefly considered taking Cloud back to his mother to heal, but didn't think Cloud would want his mother involved. She would be worried, but ultimately fine once her son returned home, and hopefully none the wiser about her son's unusual absorption of mako.

All he had to do now was wait. And so Vincent made himself comfortable, finding a perch on an exposed beam in the ceiling and settling in to keep watch.

Just in case.

It was long past dark and stretching into the wee hours of the morning when even the birds weren't awake, that Cloud finally woke up again.

His head throbbed with his pulse, but at least he didn't feel like he'd been trampled by a behemoth. Attempting to sit up, Cloud released a foul curse, the throbbing upgrading to pounding. He collapsed back onto the bed with a thump, simultaneously raising a large puff of dust that tickled his nose and irritated his throat, though thankfully didn't make him sneeze.

Cloud's gaze trailed over the ceiling. He realized he was in the Shinra Mansion just as he met a pair of glowing red eyes, staring down at him from the rafters. Cloud just blinked, mind still not all there, but slowly catching up.

"Vincent... You brought me here?" Cloud asked, voice still raspy, though not as painful as before.

Vincent leapt down, not so much landing as floating, the red cloak flaring around his legs. A few quiet steps had him next to the bed and standing over Cloud's prone form.

"Yes. You were suffering from mako poisoning. I did what I could," stated Vincent, reaching a hand out to feel Cloud's forehead, "Your fever is gone. You adapted to the mako quite easily. Do you feel different?"

"Not yet," said Cloud quietly, looking up at Vincent with vivid blue, mako tinted eyes.

Vincent abruptly caught Cloud's chin, tilting the boy's face to catch more light. Cloud flinched slightly, automatically trying to pull from Vincent's hold for a moment before remembering that it was Vincent, his friend, and stilled.

Cloud's instinctual flinch made Vincent freeze and carefully loosen his grip on Cloud's face.

"Sorry," Cloud said quietly. "It's not you," he tried to explain.

Vincent inclined his chin in a slight nod, understanding but still feeling almost like he'd been struck.

Monster. Hojo made you into nothing but a monster. The thought made him feel ill.

"Vincent," Cloud said, trying to make his rough voice louder and stronger but unsuccessful. Cloud's small hand reached up, grabbing Vincent's wrist in a firm hold where it held his face, "You're not a monster," he said, locking his gaze on Vincent's eyes, trying to make Vincent understand.

For perhaps the hundredth time in his life, Cloud desperately wished he had Aerith or Tifa's, even Zack's, ability to speak with people, to connect with them and help them. But words always dried in his throat, and he was left with only a few meager words that always felt inadequate.

Vincent tilted Cloud's face again, hand gentle as he focused on Cloud's steady and earnest gaze, the ring of green around his pupil obvious in the light under close inspection.

"No one should notice, so long as they don't look closely," Vincent stated, starting to retract his hand from the child's face.

Vincent's movement was halted, however, Cloud's small hand still gripping his wrist tightly.

"You're not a monster," Cloud repeated quietly, insistent, "You aren't what you were made. You- You are what you do. I'm not... a hero. Not anybody, really. Never was... Other people- Other people changed me. And I was put in situations where I had to change," Cloud paused his halting, awkward speech to cough, wincing slightly before continuing, "You understand?" Cloud asked, still gripping the former Turk's wrist.

Vincent stared down at Cloud, the boy's face serious and open, willing him to understand what he was trying to say. Vincent considered the boy's halting words.

"I understand," replied Vincent just as quietly, watching as Cloud removed his small hand.

Cloud carefully pushed himself upright again, more prepared as his blood rushed through him at the movement. He sighed, slowly shifting his legs over the edge of the bed and preparing to stand. Vincent halted him, placing a hand on Cloud's shoulder to still his movement.

Cloud stayed still, Vincent shifting what appeared to be medical supplies away from the bed before offering Cloud a hand. He slid down off the bed, standing carefully and swaying dangerously for a moment. Vincent steadied him and helped Cloud take a few hesitant steps around the room before letting go, dried mako flaking off his clothing at the movement.

"How's Zack?" asked Cloud, glancing over at his friend, still asleep on the bed as he ran a hand roughly through his hair, more dried mako falling from the blond spikes around his face.

"He seems to be fine. He's been sleeping since I found the two of you outside the cave," Vincent replied, eyes landing on an old comb on top of an equally old dresser. He crossed over to it and picked up the comb, casually tossing it to Cloud.

"I expected as much," Cloud sighed, catching the comb easily and looking over at the wolf's still form in vague worry.

The blond began yanking at the hair-tie holding the rest of his hair, managing to extricate the band with only a few hairs attached. Looking irritated, he began combing the mako out of his tangled hair, wincing at the pull and slight burning on his scalp and fingers; even dried mako burned after all. He desperately wanted a shower and fresh clothes.

Hair taken care of and retied, Cloud turned his attention to his clothing. The stiff, green coating would be obvious to his mother if he didn't shake off as much of it as he could. Thankfully there was always a good deal of dried mako coating the cave's walls and floor, so it wouldn't raise too many questions if his clothes were tinted with only a little dried mako.

Cloud stopped after most of the mako was removed from his clothing. That taken care of, Cloud looked up again at Vincent, hearing the unasked question in his silent observation. Cloud huffed a slight laugh.

"There was a tremor while I was standing next to the mako pool collecting crystals for my mom. I fell in. Zack pulled me out," Cloud said, gesturing to his bitten arm.

"Chaos was right," murmured Vincent, mostly to himself.

"The WEAPON actively speaks to you?" Cloud exclaimed without thinking, spinning toward Vincent and managing to trip spectacularly, knees buckling.

Vincent darted forward, catching Cloud before the boy could fall on his face.

"You seem to know many things that are not possible to know," stated Vincent, eyes narrowing slightly.

Cloud shifted in Vincent's hold, but the man didn't let go. Cloud looked up and locked eyes with Vincent, but didn't say anything. Vincent gave an inaudible sigh into the collar of his cape and let go. Cloud stumbled slightly at the lack of support, but steadied himself quickly.

"I... I don't really know how to explain it. Or if you'd believe me if I did. You don't really have a reason to trust me," Cloud said carefully, looking away and trying to keep from feeling depressed at the thought.

Vincent stared at Cloud for a moment, the silence stretching.

"I don't need to," Vincent replied simply.

The silence stretched again before Cloud let out a small laugh, sort of understanding what Vincent was implying and more thankful for it than he knew how to express.

"Fair enough," he said, stepping carefully back over to the bed to check on Zack, who finally seemed to be stirring.

Vincent watched Cloud interact with the puppy, observing the micro facial expressions flitting across the not-child's face as he balanced the wolf in his lap, checking each paw and the already-healed abrasions there. Vincent abruptly realized what his mind had been trying to tell him back in Midgar, legitimate surprise giving him pause.

"Do you know what your mother's maiden name is?" Vincent found himself asking.

Cloud looked up curiously, saying, "No. I've never asked and it's never come up. Usually people ask about my father. Why?" he asked, ruffling his hands through Zack's fur to remove the dried mako, much like he'd done to his own hair.

"It's not important for now," Vincent said, expression closing and smoothing into its customary blankness.

Cloud shrugged. He was curious, but if Vincent didn't think it important at the moment, he would leave it alone. Truthfully, he hadn't wondered about his family since he was a child the first time around. And now, running on over fifty years later, it wasn't all that important to him.

Cloud turned back to Zack, who was already beginning to act more alert. The former Soldier was sitting up, nose scenting the air and dark blue eyes gazing around at their current location in confusion.

"What all did I miss?" asked Zack, bouncing out of Cloud's lap and landing heavily on the floor.

"Are you... bigger?" Cloud asked with a frown, staring down at Zack and quickly getting to his feet, "He's definitely bigger," Cloud voiced aloud, looking resigned.

Where Zack once stood a few inches below Cloud's knees, Zack's head now reached slightly above them. The wolf's eyes had a definite gleam of mako in them, more visible in Zack's deep blue than in Cloud's sky blue.

"You know mako makes animals grow faster," Zack said cheerily before abruptly growling, hackles raised as he jumped in front of Cloud protectively.

"Zack?" Cloud exclaimed aloud, stumbling back onto the bed in surprise.

"Who is he? He feels...off," growled Zack, eyes locked on Vincent, "He looks familiar though..." he trailed off, though the wolf didn't relax at all.

"He's a friend," Cloud said quickly, "Zack, he's okay. He's the one who saved us from dying of exposure about six hours ago now. This is Vincent. Do you remember seeing him in the church? After Kadaj..."

"Oh! I remember... Damn, animal instincts are legit. I automatically knew he was dangerous, could sense the WEAPON. I can practically smell old blood on him," Zack explained, relaxing slightly but still fighting the instinctive urge to be on guard, eyes watchful.

"Well, he was a Turk," said Cloud dryly, reaching down to run a soothing hand over Zack's ears.

Vincent watched for a moment before crouching down and offering out his non-clawed hand, palm down, for Zack to sniff.

"You call him Zack?" murmured Vincent, quietly amused at Cloud's pet-naming skills, and keeping his body relaxed and loose as the wolf eased forward to sniff his hand.

"It just seemed to fit," Cloud said, also amused as he watched the former Soldier give the former Turk's hand a lick.

Vincent now approved, he was allowed to give Zack a scratch behind the ears and stood up.

"Do you still require training assistance?" asked Vincent.

Cloud nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"My mind knows what to do, but my body can't quite do it," Cloud explained, knowing better than to try to hide the problem from Vincent; the ex-Turk would definitely notice the discrepancy.

"Then what you really need is practice. And someone to make sure you don't over-exert your body. You are still young and growing. If you push too hard, you risk doing permanent damage to your muscles, ligaments, and tendons, as well as your joints."

"A practice partner would be helpful," Cloud said sheepishly, shooting a quick glare down at Zack whose quiet snickering was echoing into Cloud's mind.

"I can spar with you, but someone more your current... height... would be beneficial as well," Vincent intoned, face carefully empty of amusement at the clear irritation on the blond's face.

"Shut up, Puppy," Cloud gritted at Zack mentally, Zack's formerly quiet snickering now riotous, full-blown laughs.

"Poor little Cloud," smirked Zack, allowing his laughter to fade, but still deeply amused, "I like Vincent. He's subtly not subtle," he added with a grin, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"How does that even make sense?" Cloud shot back.

"It just does," said Zack confidently.

"Thank Gaea he can't hear you," grumped Cloud, struggling to keep from frowning (~~Pouting~~ sing-songed Zack in the back of his mind).

"I'm gonna kick you," stated Cloud, giving up and glaring down at the wolf by his feet.

An almost inaudible snort caught the two boys' attention. Two pairs of mako-blue eyes stared at Vincent.

"You sure he can't hear us?" asked Zack skeptically.

"I can hear you, Zack. I can guess Cloud's responses," spoke Vincent, speaking directly down to the wolf at their feet. "Chaos just brought it to my attention. He's... Greatly amused by your banter," Vincent explained.

"We amuse a demonic WEAPON?" Zack stated, head tilting to the side to look at Cloud, "Even I don't know what to do with that," he continued, bemusement coloring his voice.

Cloud shrugged, "Be thankful it doesn't want to kill us?" he suggested aloud.

"As interesting as this is," said Vincent, "Your mother was quite worried, Cloud."

Said blond gave a vicious curse that made Zack yelp.

"Where the hell did you learn that kinda language, Spike?" asked Zack, slightly horrified.

"I was a grunt in the infantry. And Cid helped," Cloud replied hurriedly, moving as quickly as he could to the door, "We need to get back. Mom's gonna kill me," he muttered to himself.

Cloud made it just outside the door before he stumbled and began to fall, his body not still fully recovered. Vincent moved quickly, once again catching Cloud before the boy could fall on his face and down the stairs. Zack followed at their heels.

"If I had arms again, I'd be carrying you," stated Zack, voice forceful and worried, carrying an echo of when he was a Soldier First Class.

Vincent glanced down at Zack, almost asking, but deciding to wait. Instead, he simply scooped the child into his arms for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. Cloud flailed in surprise, face looking decidedly young and unguarded to Vincent and Zack's eyes.

Zack laughed, "I guess Vincent's arms will have to do."

"Are you two tag-teaming me now?" demanded Cloud, coughing slightly as all the talking hadn't done his throat any favors.

"Just speeding things up," Vincent said, voice suspiciously bland.

Cloud sighed, recognizing futility when he saw it.

"Does it have to be a bridal carry?" he muttered, unknowingly repeating his former sentiment from a few hours ago as the ex-Turk carried him down the stairs of the mansion, and leaning back into Vincent's hold because he knew the man wouldn't put him down even if he asked.

At Cloud's words, Vincent shifted the boy into a sitting position on his normal arm, carrying him much like a mother would carry a toddler.

Cloud heaved another sigh, ignoring the urge to thump his head against the nearest hard object, and trying to ignore Zack's howling laughter. He leveled a dead-pan stare at Vincent.

"I don't really see how this is any better," the blond frowned, trying to discreetly figure out where to put his arms; he didn't want to put them around Vincent's neck unless absolutely necessary.

Only a few minutes later and they had finally made it outside the mansion when Vincent relented, shifting Cloud into a piggy-back carry to Zack's amused protests. The three set off, heading back down the trail in the predawn light. They didn't speak much, the last hours having given them all a lot to think about.

The sun was just peaking over the horizon by the time Vincent put Cloud down, a few meters from the path that lead to Cloud's home.

"Where will you stay?" asked Cloud, wanting to offer to let Vincent stay with him, his mom, and Zack, but knew that Vincent would refuse.

Vincent tilted his head back from where they'd just come.

"The mansion?" Cloud asked, vaguely surprised.

Vincent didn't reply, didn't need to as Cloud simply nodded in understanding.

"Let's go, Zack," Cloud said, "Thanks, Vincent," he added quietly over his shoulder, beginning the short trek to his front door and trying not to fall on his face; even with Vincent having carried him, Cloud was still exhausted.

"Time to face the music?" asked Zack, falling into step at Cloud's heels.

"Something like that," Cloud said quietly, gingerly taking the two steps up onto the porch and opening the door cautiously.

He didn't make it a full step inside before his mother appeared in front of him, Zack slipping in behind his legs and slinking quietly into the living area (having decided he didn't want to be in the possible line of fire that was a mother's frantic worry).

"Cloud!" Elle exclaimed, quickly sweeping Cloud into an uncomfortably tight hug. "What happened? Are you alright?" she asked, blue eyes smudged with tiredness as she pulled back to scan Cloud for injuries.

"I'm alright. I slipped on the way back and hit my head. I was passed out for a while," Cloud explained softly, allowing his mom to poke and prod for injuries.

"What happened to you arm?" Elle continued, inspecting the clean bandage; she didn't touch it beyond that, recognizing that the wound had been well tended.

"My arm got cut by some rock when I fell."

 "Who treated it? How did you survive the night?" she questioned, ushering Cloud out of the entryway and into the kitchen where she promptly forced him to sit and began heating the previous day's soup and biscuits.

"While I was unconscious, Zack went searching for help. He found a traveler and lead him back to me," Cloud said, shooting a glance over to Zack who had followed the mother and son into the kitchen when he smelled food.

Elle ladled soup into two bowls, placing one in front of Cloud with a stern order for him to eat and placing the other on the floor for Zack, giving the wolf's ears a thankful scratch. The puppy promptly dove into the soup with a happy bark, barely managing to not spill the bowl in the process. Cloud laughed slightly before turning to his own bowl and beginning to eat.

"So, the traveler bandaged up your arm and kept you safe for the night? And then brought you back?" Elle said skeptically, "Why didn't you invite him in? I should've thanked him for helping you..."

"I did ask," Cloud said defensively, "But he said that he wasn't comfortable in town. Nibelheim isn't very fond of outsiders..." Cloud added quietly, looking away.

"I know," sighed Elle, before her gaze abruptly sharpened, "What did the man look like?" she asked, voice forcefully casual.

Cloud blinked, surprised at the look on his mom's face, which was somewhat closed off and distant.

"He was wearing a red cape and bandanna with long black hair," the boy replied warily, watching his mother curiously.

"No black suit?" asked Elle insistently.

At Cloud's negative head shake, the blonde woman relaxed, worry melting from her face and pink lips curving into a relieved smile. She gave Cloud a lingering kiss to the blond spikes above his forehead and stood up to begin cleaning the kitchen.

Cloud was no longer hungry, having eaten about a quarter of his soup. He was mostly exhausted and sore, but his mind lingered at his mother's odd questions.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say your ma is worried about Turks," Zack said, watching eagerly as Cloud slipped the remainder of his soup into Zack's bowl.

"Yeah, but why? I didn't think anyone outside Midgar really knew about the Turks, let alone that their signature feature is the black suits... I don't remember my mom knowing any of this," Cloud replied silently, glancing worriedly at his mom's back as she washed the dishes.

Zack lapped up the soup quickly, "What do you really know about your mom? Vincent was asking questions earlier. Maybe he knows something?"

"I don't think it's relevant to Sephiroth or Hojo. But if my mom is worried about Turks coming out here, we may need to be more careful than I thought."

"Why don't you ask her? You and your mom came to Nibelheim from elsewhere, right? Maybe she has connections to Shinra or Midgar that you didn't know about before," Zack said, sitting back from the now empty bowl as Cloud picked it up.

"You're right," agreed Cloud, "I remember she fought really hard against me going to join SOLDIER. I thought it was because she just didn't want me to leave, but-" Cloud paused, thinking deeply, "Now would be the best time to ask."

Zack trotted out of the kitchen, laying down just outside the doorway to give Cloud a semblance of privacy.

"Mom?" Cloud said hesitantly, "Could you tell me about your family? From before Nibelheim?"

Elle started, badly. The bowl she'd been cleaning clattered noisily into the sink in her surprise.

"Why do you ask, Cloud?" Elle replied shakily, voice slightly sharp.

Cloud could see his mother's hand, trembling so badly she could barely dry them on the little dish towel she pulled off the counter. She turned around, but didn't look directly at Cloud, simply taking Zack's empty bowl from her son's hands and placing it into the sink.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

Elle was quiet for a few minutes before sighing.

"I'm alright, you just surprised me. It was a long night," she said gently, rubbing a hand over tired eyes, "Why did you ask?"

"I just realized," Cloud began hesitantly, "That I don't know anything about either side of my family. I've been thinking about it a lot, ever since the teacher at school assigned a family tree project a few weeks ago," he continued, looking up at his mom carefully, despising the lies that seemed to keep spilling out of his mouth the last few hours.

"I suppose I should have explained things sooner, what with the town being the way it is... But you always seemed so young. And you never really asked about anything. My happy little Cloud," Elle said ruefully, "And I can tell you some things, but I won't tell you all of it. Not yet. You may be turning nine in a few days, but you're still too young for the full story," she added sternly, softening her words with a small smile.

Cloud tilted his head curiously. Elle stayed quiet, however, folding the dish towel and placing it on the counter.

"Are you going to tell me?" Cloud asked finally, slightly impatient as he gazed at Elle.

"Not right now," she said decisively. She held up a hand to forestall Cloud's objections, "You need rest. You were out all night in the elements, your arm is injured, and you hit your head hard enough to pass out. You need to sleep," she insisted.

Cloud's shoulders slumped and a frown etched itself onto his mouth.

"Don't pout," Elle teased, before becoming serious again, "I will tell you later, after you've rested. I promise," she said, placing her hands on Cloud's shoulders and making sure he looked her in the eye.

Cloud nodded, giving his mom a half smile of reassurance that he wasn't mad. Elle stepped back after giving him another tight hug. Cloud called to Zack and began to head to his bedroom. As though just remembering, Cloud stopped abruptly and fumbled at the pouch on his waist. Having freed it, Cloud turned back to his mom and handed her the pouch.
  
"I did manage to get the crystals before everything happened," he explained quietly, a little smile crossing his lips.

Elle laughed, reaching out a hand and ruffling Cloud's hair.

"Thank you," she smiled, eyes light, "Now go get some sleep."

Cloud nodded and followed Zack's soft-pawed steps to their bedroom. Once inside, he shut the door and picked up Zack, heaving the heavy puppy onto the bed. Cloud shucked off his clothes and socks, pulled on a comfortable white shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and threw himself onto the bed next to Zack, resolving to shower in the morning.

He didn't remember his head even reaching the pillow.

Chapter Text

"It's times like these," Cloud reflected, ducking beneath Tifa's furious kick, "That make me very glad that Tifa learned how to control her temper by the time I met up with her again," he thought ruefully.

The now eight year old Tifa was fuming, molten brown eyes glinting with repressed frustration. The spar Cloud had tentatively invited her to join (at Zack's insistence) had been welcomed by the young brunette, though Cloud didn't realize at the time how volatile young Tifa's emotions were.

The morning started out well enough. Cloud and Zack woke up feeling refreshed, if a bit sore. A quick shower removed the last vestiges of mako from the both of them and eased Cloud's sore muscles.

When they stepped into the kitchen, Elle was already there, sitting tiredly at the kitchen table and nursing a cup of tea, tendrils of peppermint-scented steam drifting over the rim of the cup. She looked as though she didn't sleep well and Cloud instantly felt guilty, knowing the prospect of their approaching conversation had most likely kept her awake.

Elle made a brief gesture to a small pot of oatmeal on the stove and Cloud carefully spooned some into a bowl and placed it onto the table. He grabbed Zack's designated bowl as well and pulled some already cooked meat from the fridge, dumping a generous helping into the bowl before placing it on the ground for the rapidly growing wolf.

"I'm sorry we don't have anything better," Cloud said silently, running gentle hands over Zack's head and back.

"Cloud, you're giving me fresh, well-cooked meat that you clean, skin, and debone yourself. It's delicious," Zack reassured him, nudging Cloud's hands gently in thanks, "Besides, do you remember what ShinRa canteen food tasted like? That stuff could walk off a plate by itself and I survived on that just fine," Zack laughed, diving into the meat with relish.

Cloud ruffled Zack's fur again before standing and sitting down at the table, digging into his food. The oatmeal was filling, if a little bland, but it was hot and trailed a pleasant warmth all the way down into his stomach.

Elle watched her young, strangely mature son eat, dread pooling in her stomach even as her blue eyes lit with gentle contentment at the quiet, comfortable morning with her strange son and equally strange wolf. She never dreamed that this would be her life, raising her son alone in a moderately hostile town.

But she didn't regret it in the least. The hard work interspersed with genuine happiness and simple comfort. Even the rough days when Cloud was a baby and she was alone, learning to do everything by herself and his cries drove her to tears. Elle wouldn't change it for anything. Her only regret was losing Cloud's father.

That was another story that needed telling. But not until Cloud was older, at least in double-digits, Elle reflected. He was still so young...

Cloud finished eating and began washing the dishes, frowning in irritation when he had to grab the stool in order to use the sink comfortably. Once done, he returned to sit at the table, waiting and watching his mother expectantly with patient eyes.

Elle took a deep breath and straightened.

"I came to Nibelheim seven months pregnant after losing your father. He was a biologist and an inventor, a brilliant and kind man. He worked for the company my father owned," Elle said, voice soft and eyes distant with memory, "That's how I met him. My father and brother didn't approve of our relationship, so we decided to elope. I was already pregnant with you by that time," she said with a grin at Cloud. "We got married quietly and quickly, hiding out in Midgar in a small, comfortable house while your father worked as a mechanic at a local garage."

Cloud smiled slightly, understanding why he'd always enjoyed working on Fenrir, and why engineering appealed to him as he got older. First Tsurugi was of his own design, made to accommodate his rather eclectic fighting style after using so many different swords over the years. The thought made him slightly sad, though. He wouldn't be able to recreate his sword this time, the materials unavailable if everything went the way it should.

"We were happy until we were found. Your father sacrificed himself so that I could get away. I cursed him for a long time," Elle whispered, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked down into her cup, "He was supposed to come with me. We'd made the contingency plans together... But I realized later that he must have known we couldn't both get away, especially with me being so heavily pregnant. My father's reach was too long and too powerful, and they'd have taken you away," she continued, finally looking up to see Cloud's reaction.

Cloud had expected any number of a dozen things, but the story his mother just told was both heart-breaking and world-altering. He looked over at his mother with new, unbiased eyes and suddenly knew exactly what Vincent must have noticed. Her pale blonde hair, her eyes, the education and knowledge she insisted on teaching him.

Her extreme reluctance to let him go to Midgar and join Shinra.

"Shinra?" Cloud asked faintly, his own voice sounding distant to his ears.

Elle's eyes widened in shock, "How did you make that connection?" she asked, "Did someone tell you something?"

Cloud shook his head, his stomach churning with nausea. Zack quietly slipped into the room, nudging Cloud's leg. The boy's hand dropped into the wolf's fur, the soft, wiry texture grounding him.

"I've seen some photos in the news around town. And the fact that you and my dad had to go into hiding, as well as the power and reach your family apparently has... It was a leap, but it seems I'm right?" Cloud half-asked, desperately hoping he was wrong as he looked up at his mother.

Elle's lips curved into a rueful smile.

"My full name is Ruelle Shinra, I'm the current president's younger sister."

Zack would have whistled in astonishment if possible.

"Cloud, you can't ever let them find out who you are. You'll never be free, or safe. My brother is in control of the company now, and he's ruthless. He won't want there to be another successor," Elle tried to explain desperately, worried about the blank look on her son's face, "It'd be best if you forget about my side of the family. But now that you know, you must be very careful. If men in black suits show up, keep away from them and let me know. They probably work for your uncle."

"Okay," said Cloud quietly, still feeling increasingly nauseous the more he thought about what his mom told him.

He was related to Rufus. They were cousins. And Rufus must have realized at some point, looking back on it. Some of the comments made by Tseng, and Rufus helping him out later on (even though Cloud refused the majority of his help, despite the man going out of his way to offer it). Cloud always assumed it was because he'd defeated Sephiroth and helped save the Planet...

"I'm gonna be sick..." the former hero thought, clutching at Zack's fur like a lifeline, lips pressed in a thin line.

"Cloud? Are you okay?" his mother asked, "I hadn't intended to tell you my family name, I wanted to leave them as nameless villains of the past. But you figured it out and... I panicked a little," Elle said quietly, regret written on her face.

"No, it's okay. It's always better to know, right?" Cloud said, giving his mother a wan smile, "I'm just a bit..."

"Shocked?" finished Elle.

Cloud nodded, blond spikes waving gently. Zack nudged at the boy's hand again and Cloud buried his fingers into the wolf's fur, grounding himself.

"I'm going to go out for a bit, check the traps and see if I can't hunt something fresh for dinner," Cloud said, giving his mother a smile far calmer than he actually felt.

The boy stood and headed out the door, Zack on his heels.

Elle watched them go and sighed, wishing she hadn't needed to tell Cloud so soon, and that she hadn't told him so much. She desperately hoped dredging the past up again wouldn't lead to more trouble.

"I can't believe it!" exclaimed Zack, running around Cloud's feet in circles, "You're a Shinra? What are the odds of that?"

"How do you think I feel?" Cloud replied grimly, automatically heading for the outskirts, intent on vanishing into the forest for a few hours to kill some monsters.

Cloud carefully rounded the last building, Zack trotting just behind him, when the boy abruptly stopped in surprise. Tifa was sitting on the ground, her back against the wall and her head buried in her arms. The girl's shoulders were shaking with muffled sobs.

"Oh, no..." the blond thought, panicking slightly, "What's the date today?" he asked urgently.

"The date? Why does that matter?" replied Zack, approaching Tifa slowly, "Do you know why she's crying?"

"Maybe," the blond replied, stepping forward quietly and carefully sitting down next to Tifa.

"Tifa?" he said hesitantly, reaching a hand out to touch the girl's shoulder.

The girl's head shot up, and upon seeing Cloud, immediately started swiping away at her tears.

"What do you want?" Tifa asked, trying to sound strong even as more tears slid down her face and her lips trembled.

"Nothing, just- Are you alright?" Cloud fumbled, not sure how to proceed exactly, but wanting to help.

"I'm fine," sniffled Tifa, once more rubbing at her eyes.

"You don't seem fine," pressed Cloud softly, Zack plopping down on the little girl's other side.

Tifa turned her large brown eyes to Cloud, seeming even larger in her small face due the pronounced redness from crying. Not thinking, Cloud reacted as he did when Marlene used to cry, holding an arm out in invitation for her to lean into him. Tifa dropped into his side with a sob, burying her face into Cloud's small shoulder with only the barest of hesitation.

Cloud hid a wince; his arm was still tender. Zack scooted closer on Tifa's other side, laying himself down and curving his slightly lanky form around Tifa's bent legs, hoping his body heat and soft fur would give the girl some comfort.

The blond tightened his grip around Tifa's shoulders and let her cry. Eventually Tifa's sobs died down and she pulled back, still sniffling. Cloud watched her carefully, unsure about what to say.

"Thank you. I'm sorry," she said quietly, her hand dropping down into Zack's fur to begin gently running her fingers through Zack's coat.

"No need to be sorry," Cloud said, voice quiet, "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked hesitantly, though he had a bad feeling he knew why Tifa had been crying.

"Dad says Mom is gone, that she won't be coming back. And he won't tell me where she went!" Tifa cried, "Why won't he tell me?" she trailed off, more tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Maybe just give him some time... I think he's probably hurting, too. Maybe he doesn't know how to tell you what's happened," the blond said, feeling an odd sense of empathy for the Mayor.

Cloud was never good at explaining bad news.

"All he has to do is open his mouth and tell me!" exclaimed Tifa angrily, "I'm his daughter..." she added sadly, fingers unintentionally tugging at Zack's thick fur.

Not at all sure about what else he could say, let alone how to tell Tifa that her mother was dead, Cloud fell silent. Tifa lapsed into silence as well, no longer sobbing, but tears still falling from her eyes as she regained her breath. It was a comfortable silence. It reminded Cloud of when he lived with Tifa, Marlene, and Denzel. The sudden longing for Seventh Heaven felt like a physical hit to his diaphragm; the sounds from the bar that Cloud was always able to hear from his room, Marlene leaving flowers on his desk when he wasn't looking, and Denzel trailing behind him with curious eyes and hesitant smiles (his face always lit up when Cloud let him help with repairs to his bike). He missed them, badly. It was a physical ache that stole his breath and constricted his throat.

"Cloud?" Zack said suddenly, head perking up to regard the two children, an idea brimming at the edge of his mind.

"Yeah?" Cloud replied, abruptly snapping out of his melancholy, his attention turning to the young wolf.

"Tifa's a fighter right? Wouldn't she make a good sparring partner?"

Cloud blinked.

"She would, but I don't think she's started learning yet. She won't for a couple more years, I think. She trained under Zangan," the not-child mused.

"So where's this Zangan? Take her to him," the wolf said simply, Cloud somehow getting the impression that Zack shrugged.

Cloud bit his lip in thought, Tifa still sitting quietly and petting Zack as she calmed herself the best she could.

"Tifa?" the boy spoke tentatively.

"Yes, Cloud?" she asked, turning to look at the blond.

He bit his lip again before sighing, "Would you like to learn how to fight?"

"Huh?" Tifa exclaimed, the seemingly random question shocking her.

"Do you want to learn how to fight?" Cloud repeated, fiddling with the edge of his bandage and staring off into the trees, "I need someone to spar with," Cloud explained, finally turning his blue gaze back to Tifa. "You don't have to. I just thought it could be a good distraction. For you, I mean," Cloud continued, cursing himself mentally at his perpetual lack of communication skills.

Tifa let out a small, surprised giggle.

"I would like that," she said with a wan smile, "Though we'll have to keep it a secret. Dad doesn't really approve of me learning those kinds of things."

"Why?" asked Cloud, genuinely surprised. Learning how to fight and defend yourself always seemed a good idea to Cloud, regardless of gender.

"He says it's not ladylike. I'm the mayor's daughter, so I'm supposed to actually be a lady," Tifa explained, lips twisted into a confused frown, "I don't understand why though."

Cloud almost tried to defend the man again, but couldn't quite bring himself to speak up. Truthfully, Cloud didn't remember much about what all happened to him after the accident with Tifa, just a vague memory of Mayor Lockhart shouting at him and hitting him. After that, the way the town treated Cloud and his mother became even worse.

"Well, either way, let's go," Cloud finally spoke, standing up and dusting himself off.

He reached a hand down to help Tifa, who looked at his hand for a moment before taking it with a grin.

"Who's gonna teach us?" asked Tifa curiously, dusting herself off as well.

"I saw him earlier, running through some exercises," replied Cloud, leading the way out of the town, but in the opposite direction from his own home.

Zack and Tifa trailed after him curiously.

"I don't remember seeing anyone," Zack said, bemused as he trotted up to walk next to Cloud.

"Because, technically, we didn't. I haven't actually seen Zangan this time around yet. But I know where he lives. Tifa didn't start training with him until after I left... I think," Cloud frowned, "Either way, starting her with Zangan sooner than later shouldn't hurt. And this way, I'll have someone my own height to spar with," he continued, glancing pointedly at Zack, remembering Vincent and Zack's teasing from the other night.

Zack huffed a laugh.

"Cloud?" Tifa spoke tentatively, stopping in the middle of the path.

"What is it?" asked Cloud, stopping and turning to look at the younger girl.

"I'm sorry," she said straight-forwardly, hands clenched determinedly at her sides as she stared Cloud straight in the eyes.

"What for?" the not-child asked, head tilting in confusion as he regarded the eight year old.

"I'd noticed that a lot of the kids here in the village bully you. But I never spoke out against it, even when I knew you were getting hurt," she admitted, still maintaining her determined eye contact even though Cloud could see her discomfort.

Cloud found himself smiling, a slight upturn of his habitual frown. Tifa was still Tifa, even as a little girl unaware of the world outside Nibelheim. It was comforting, and eased the harsh ache in his chest at having lost his friends to the reversal of time.

"Don't worry about it," he finally said, "Even if you spoke out, nothing would have changed. It's not on you to take responsibility for another person's actions," the blond continued, flashing a small smile at Tifa to reassure her before turning and making his way down the trail leading to Master Zangan's home.

Tifa stared after him for a moment before running to catch up, a bright smile lighting up her small face as Zack yipped happily after his young charges.

It surprisingly didn't take much convincing to persuade Zangan to teach Tifa and Cloud. The martial arts master eyed them both before taking them to the open space behind his home for them to practice the various beginner forms. The two children picked it up surprisingly quickly to Zangan's eyes, especially Cloud. After roughly an hour, he told them to rest and to drink some water.

After their break, Zangan set them to practicing together, Tifa attacking and Cloud defending. Tifa was hesitant to use force, which made the practice of the forms rather useless, so Zangan took the girl aside.

"Tifa, you can't properly learn to fight if you are afraid to use force," he explained gently, "And Cloud won't be able to learn properly if you don't give him a solid attack to block."

"I don't want to hurt him, I don't really want to hurt anyone," Tifa said quietly, gaze drawn to the ground at having apparently disappointed her brand new teacher.

"And you may not have to. Martial arts isn't just for fighting others, though that's its primary purpose. It can be used to train yourself, to learn control, and to protect yourself and the people you care for," the man explained, "While you practice with Cloud, keep that in mind. But for now, think of something that makes you angry and let your body speak for you."

Tifa gave a determined nod and rejoined Cloud. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, recalling various conversations with her father, including the most recent about her mother.

When her brown eyes flashed open, Cloud winced; he knew that look. The resulting spar was more forceful, with Zangan carefully watching and correcting a stance here and there.

"Tifa has one hell of a temper, doesn't she? I always thought she was a bit softer, like Aerith," Zack commented from where he watched from the side, occasionally calling out encouragement or corrections to Cloud's stances as well.

"She learned control," Cloud responded, ducking Tifa's surprisingly vicious kick, "Tifa learned empathy and more gentleness after Sephiroth razed Nibelheim. She calmed down a lot after that... She was always the one that kicked my hesitant personality into gear and cut through my bullshit. Aerith was like that, too, but more subtle. After they met, I had no peace," the boy continued, genuine amusement coloring his tone.

"Aerith is pretty determined when she gets going," Zack laughed, watching Cloud get shoved back by Tifa's next punch, "I miss her," the wolf said quietly, not quite intending Cloud to hear, but the mental tie between the time travelers not lending much to privacy.

"I do, too," Cloud responded, just as quietly while he and Tifa stopped for a break.

Cloud turned his attention back to Tifa, who was currently panting, hands on her knees as she bent over and tried to catch her breath.

"Why aren't you breathing as hard as I am?" Tifa asked incredulously.

"I've been doing a lot of running lately," Cloud replied, running an embarrassed hand through his messy spikes, wincing when his fingers caught in the tangles. "I've got to cut this stupid thing," Cloud thought, grimacing as he redid the low ponytail impatiently.

"But you look so cute," Zack snickered in the background.

"Shut up, Puppy," Cloud responded automatically, discretely making an obscene gesture at the wolf pup.

Zack just laughed louder. Cloud sighed, deciding to ignore the former Soldier First.

"That was good, I can't believe this is only your first day of training with me. However, just because you are doing well doesn't mean you should slack off. Tifa, try to work on your stamina and practice the forms. Cloud, you need to work on smoothing out your movements and increasing your strength," Zangan lectured sternly, "Practice at home and make sure you return each day to continue training and sparring."

"Yes, Master Zangan!" Tifa replied enthusiastically, brown eyes shining even as she wiped the sweat off her brow and pushed her hair back.

"Yes, Master Zangan," intoned Cloud seriously, already formulating a schedule to fit in Zangan's training.

Tifa looked around, abruptly noticing the setting sun. She let out a panicked shriek and took off running, calling back:

"I'm not supposed to be out this late!"

Cloud and Zangan blinked after her in surprise.

"Her father is a bit strict and protective," Cloud tried to explain, voice hesitant and lacking the previous confidence the boy displayed while training with Tifa.

Zangan eyed the small boy carefully, noting the healing bruises and bandage on Cloud's arm and recalling some of the village gossip he heard on his sporadic trips to the general store.

"Why do you wish to learn martial arts?" the man asked suddenly, turning to face the small blond.

The boy blinked, startled at the sudden question, before frowning in thought.

"I want to get stronger. I want to be able to protect myself and the people I care about," Cloud said carefully, watching Zangan cautiously.

"You don't want revenge on those who've bullied and hurt you? The ones who've insulted you and your mother?" the man asked harshly.

"What would that accomplish?" Cloud replied, blue eyes distant and old, "Revenge does nothing. It doesn't undo what's already been done. It might be nice temporarily, it might even stop the person from doing something bad again. But when the ashes settle, what would be left?"

Having said his piece, Cloud turned and began to leave, Zack padding after him.

Zangan didn't know how to respond, so he watched the mature blond walk away, wolf puppy trotting at his heels.

"Strange," mused Zangan, arms lifting to fold over his chest.

"Are you alright, Cloud?" asked Zack, tone unusually serious as he lightly hopped over a muddy puddle from the recently melted snow.

"I'm fine. Why?" Cloud asked, glancing down curiously at his friend.

The two were heading home, their pace oddly slow and meandering as the last light of day faded.

"What you said, when Zangan asked if you wanted revenge on the people who have been bullying you and your mom. About ashes being all that's left," Zack stated, stopping in the middle of the path and forcing Cloud to stop walking as well.

"What about it?" sighed Cloud, absent-mindedly reaching up to rub at his shoulder, not particularly in the mood to dissect his current emotions.

"Now I know you're not okay," Zack said, wishing his face could frown but settling instead for baring his teeth slightly, a low growl emanating from his chest.

"I'm fine, Zack," insisted Cloud, feeling the stirring of faint irritation at Zack's stubbornness.

"You only rub at that shoulder when you're feeling depressed, or are bothered about something."

Cloud's movement halted. The blond pulled his hand away and stared at it in vague surprise and disgust. Dropping his hand down, Cloud heaved a tired, rueful sigh.

"You must have been watching over me quite a lot while you were in the Lifestream to notice a habit I didn't realize I had," Cloud said, smiling sadly down at Zack.

"Not at first. My consciousness didn't really separate from the Lifestream until after Aerith died. We both watched over you after that, though I may have been a little more obsessive about it, having left you with a heavy burden like I did," Zack said, looking away, "You're not the only one with regrets, you know?" he continued, voice quiet in Cloud's mind.

"I know," Cloud replied, just as quiet.

"So, talk," Zack said gently, "What's got you all cloudy?" he teased.

Cloud huffed a laugh, shaking his head and conceding to his friend's stubbornness.

"It's been so many years. I thought I had settled my feelings, the anger, the guilt, everything... But being back, spending more time here and remembering all the people and making new memories, as well... If I can't stop it, losing Nibelheim and losing my mother, I don't think I'll recover from that again," Cloud mused, gaze distant, "I think the only reason I did the first time was because I forgot it all and never fully regained it. I was so young the first time, and I'm sure I had a lot of unresolved feelings for the people here due to their treatment of my mother and I," the blond continued, finally glancing down at Zack, who had maneuvered himself closer to lean against the boy's leg, "Honestly, I don't know how I'm going to react to seeing Sephiroth again, even if he is sane. Part of me just wants to kill him."

The dull, tired tone of Cloud's voice had Zack aching for his friend, the emotion all the more poignant knowing how much Cloud used to look up to Sephiroth (and not just in the physical sense, Zack couldn't help but think with wry amusement). Somehow, it felt more painful than usual to the wolf, perhaps due to the way the heavy thoughts and emotions weighed on the younger form of Cloud, and how readily apparent it was in Cloud's large eyes.

"But having already killed and defeated Sephiroth, I know that revenge is useless. It doesn't make anything better in the long run. All it does is leave me with more unpleasant memories and pointless regret," Cloud continued, voice hesitant before speaking again, "And the part of me that's you, always feels pained. It remembers Sephiroth the friend."

Zack flinched visibly and Cloud dropped into an abrupt crouch to hug the wolf to him, burying his face into Zack's fur, faint and desperate apologies echoing into Zack's mind; Zack wasn't sure if Cloud was intending for his apologies to reach him or not, the psychic link between them wasn't choosey about which thoughts were transmitted.

After a few minutes, Cloud pulled away, though not before getting his cheek licked by Zack. Cloud made a face and quickly wiped the wolf-saliva away, giving Zack a small smile.

Zack stood and shook himself before turning his attention back to Cloud, who also stood quickly and was busy dusting off his pants.

"We have a very fucked up history, don't we?" Zack finally said, laughing slightly as the two resumed their walk home.

"That about sums it up," Cloud replied simply, grinning.

"We should hurry. Tifa isn't the only one with a paranoid parent," Zack said pointedly.

Grimacing, Cloud broke into a run, Zack following easily with his now longer legs. It didn't take them long to reach the house, where Elle sat waiting and trying not to look worried as the two clattered up the steps and opened the door.

"The mako seems to be treating us well," commented Zack, "I'm growing fast and your body's constitution certainly seems to have improved."

"Yeah, I've been noticing a difference. I feel lighter, and breathing is easier. Granted, I don't think a quick dunk into mako will give me the strength and abilities that we got from Hojo," replied Cloud grimly, yanking off his boots and setting them by the door.

"Hopefully, it won't be needed. I don't want to know how I'd react to seeing my younger self and you go through all of that," the wolf growled darkly.

Cloud shook his head and scratched Zack behind the ears. He didn't stop until Zack's tail was flicking happily back and forth, the momentary dark mood forgotten as they sat on the floor of the entryway.

"Cheater. Where's your honor, Soldier?" complained Zack, still leaning into Cloud's touch, enjoying the scratching despite himself.

"Never made SOLDIER, remember?" the boy pointed out, smirking slightly as he shifted his scratching fingers underneath Zack's jaw.

"I don't think that'll be an issue this time around," grinned Zack lifting his head automatically to expose more of his chin before coming back to himself and finally pulling himself away from Cloud's hands with a glare.

"I'm not sure if I'm even going to-" Cloud trailed off as Elle suddenly appeared, looking expectantly at the two from where she stood in the kitchen doorway.

"Did you catch anything?" she asked, tilting her head curiously.

The blistering curse that only Zack could hear made the wolf puppy yelp.

"I'm sorry, mom, I ran into Tifa after we left and I completely forgot to check," the boy apologized, cursing himself and immediately feeling guilty.

"It's alright, we can just eat leftovers. I'm sure Tifa needed the comfort. It hasn't even been two days since her mother passed," Elle said softly, "I'm glad you were able to be there for her."

Cloud nodded. He understood Tifa's pain all too well.

"Do you know how she died?" asked Cloud, padding into the kitchen to help Elle prepare their meal.

"It seems she slipped and struck her her head. It might not have been too bad, but she wasn't found until hours later. By then it was too late," Elle explained gently, not wanting to go into too much detail, instead focusing on preparing the leftovers and keeping Cloud busy with the plates and utensils.

The table set, Cloud prepared Zack's meal as well before he sat down to eat. Elle changed the subject as they ate, prodding her quiet son into telling her about his day.

As Cloud spoke, Elle felt her tenseness ease away, along with her worry about having told Cloud too much about their circumstances. He'd seemed so shocked earlier, she couldn't help but worry.

"He's all grown up, I guess," she thought ruefully, smiling as Cloud described how Tifa had knocked him down with a recently learned kick.

"Hey, mom?" Cloud asked, pulling Elle's attention back to the present as the boy collected the used dishes and put them into the sink.

"What is it?" she asked, standing and starting to put the food away.

"Will you cut my hair?" the blond asked, tugging slightly at his ponytail in clear irritation.

"You fought me so hard to grow it out!" she exclaimed, eyes wide with shock.

"I didn't realize how much of a hassle it is," Cloud grumbled, looking away in embarrassment.

Elle burst into laughter, eyes shut and holding her stomach. Cloud waited, a small self-conscious frown furrowing his brow. Finally, when Elle's laughter faded into small chuckles, she gestured for Cloud to sit down.

Still smiling, Elle pulled a pair of old scissors from one of the kitchen drawers before going to grab a comb and a glass of water. Cloud pulled out the hair tie and used his fingers to sort out the worst of the tangles.

She returned in less than a minute and with quick, experienced hands, Elle dipped the comb into the water and wetted down Cloud's hair, combing it out gently.

The quiet sound of the scissors filled the kitchen and Elle began to hum while she worked. It didn't take long, but between his mother's gentle humming and the soft sound of the scissors, Cloud found his eyes drifting shut. Zack nudged his knee and Cloud's eyes snapped open, glancing down at Zack in confusion.

"You were falling asleep," explained Zack, amusement clear in his tone as he looked up at Cloud's tired face.

"Oh. Thanks, Zack," the boy said, shifting carefully so as not to move his head.

"Almost done," Elle said, snipping away another lock of pale blond hair.

"Okay," Cloud replied, a sudden yawn almost cracking his jaw.

A few minutes later and Elle was finished. She brushed away the cut hair from Cloud's shoulders and ordered him and his wolf to bed. Cloud almost protested, wanting to help clean up the hair, but when another yawn interrupted him mid-sentence, he bowed to inevitability and followed Zack back to their bedroom.

"Feel better?" asked Zack, jumping up onto the bed and getting comfortable while Cloud changed into his pajamas.

"Much," Cloud said, reaching back ruffling the shorter hair on the back of his head, pleased that the ponytail was gone.

"You look more like yourself," the wolf commented, moving his larger form over to make more room for the small blond as Cloud tucked himself under the covers.

Zack burrowed himself next to Cloud, the scent of his fur and their shared body heat oddly comforting, and a consistent reminder that Cloud wasn't alone.

Not anymore.

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I still own nothing but my meager story-line and any hapless OCs I throw into these pages.

Sephiroth was dreaming. He knew that. He'd had enough lucid dreams to recognize the feeling, although this particular dream wasn't making much sense. For one, he recognized the place, despite having never been there.

The Forgotten City.

He'd seen it frequently in his text books and in the photographs Professor Gast used to show him, excitedly talking about the Ancients and the mystery surrounding their existence.

While undoubtedly beautiful, Sephiroth always felt disturbed by the place. The instinctual gut feelings Hojo encouraged him to ignore were particularly strong any time he saw the Forgotten City, even when he wasn't seeing it in person. 

A city of the dead....

Perhaps it was simply the effect of the dead, crystalized trees, ever luminescent despite the lack of life. Green eyes gazed incuriously, warily, at his surroundings.

"Dread," Sephiroth realized abruptly, "I feel dread here."

The fifteen year old clenched his fist, a vague sense of anger surging at the thought. He shouldn't be intimidated by the long dead city of a long dead people. He was a Soldier, the best in Shinra, as his father so often reminded him. In no way would he allow himself to fear something so insignificant. 

He took a breath, calming himself and regaining control. Again, he looked around, his silver hair swaying with the movement. He wondered why his mind had placed him there.

"I suppose it's peaceful," he thought, lips tugging downward.

Another few moments crawled slowly by and Sephiroth decided he should wake up. If he was going to dream in this manner, he might as well be fully awake and go do some training in the simulator. 

Sephiroth closed his eyes and willed himself to wake, as he usually did when he found himself lucid dreaming. 

Nothing happened.

Sephiroth frowned and tried again. Still nothing.

"That will not work."

Sephiroth startled badly, automatically jerking around to face where the voice emanated from. Masamune appeared in his hand and the teen settled into a defensive stance, heart thudding though his face remained calm. 

The deep voice chuckled, echoing slightly as a tall figure emerged from the trees. Shadows clung to the humanoid figure, like wisps of smoke and feathers. The deep black shifted and slowly solidified, rippling and iridescent as clothing and man took shape. 

"What are you?" demanded Sephiroth, hands tensing on Masamune before the teen forced himself to relax.

The thing's face was still shadowed, but Sephiroth could tell it was smiling.

It wasn't a nice smile. 

"I wonder..." the voice mused, a mockingly playful lilt evident in its voice as it stepped closer, "It seems the Planet is not through with me yet. Or perhaps, I'm just along for the ride," it continued, slowly but steadily pacing its way to the increasingly wary teen. 

"That doesn't answer my question. Who are you, and why are you so sure I can't wake up as I normally do?" the silver-haired Soldier stated coolly, struggling to remain impassive even as the creature came closer.

He could feel the raw power rolling off the figure in waves, like incandescent heat shivering the air above hot pavement. 

"I suppose I can answer one question," the voice intoned lazily, the steady pacing halting for the moment.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed in irritation at the power play. As much as he wanted to retaliate, he knew he'd die if he attempted it (though he was unsure how his sleeping body would react. Perhaps it would remain comatose?). Unfortunately, Sephiroth did not hold the power in this instance. 

"Vexing..." the teen silently seethed.

Powerless was not a situation Sephiroth was accustomed to, at least not when outside his father's lab. He was all too used to it there.... 

"So who are you? Or what are you?" Sephiroth asked again, subtly shifting his feet in order to re-center his balance.

"That is not the question I've chosen to answer."

Sephiroth almost growled. The thing was smirking, damnit! He could tell.

"To your earlier question, you won't wake because I haven't allowed it," the creature stated. 

At Sephiroth' stunned silence, a chuckle resounded in the air around him and the figure once more began stalking forward. A shadow swelled behind it and swept outward.

Unable to stand it any further, Sephiroth reacted defensively. Masamune flicked out in a diagonal slash, aimed at what should have been the figure's throat. 

Just as the blade touched the creature, Masamune vanished from Sephiroth's grasp. The Soldier stumbled at the sudden loss, overbalancing and nearly falling at the figure's feet. 

Reeling at Masamune's disappearance, the teen leapt back and into the air, trying to put more distance between himself and the encroaching darkness that swirled over the ground and devoured the crystallized trees as though it were oil spreading through water. 

The blackness rose from the ground like a living thing and rushed through the air, following Sephiroth's leap and grasping at his booted feet. Vivid green eyes widened in fear when the shadows connected, all thoughts of the missing Masamune now gone. 

Sephiroth abruptly found himself thrown to the ground, into the waiting embrace of the creature's shadows. The darkness swelled and wrapped around the teen's limbs, immobilizing him as surely as Hojo's restraints often did. Green eyes glared coldly up at the figure, silent questions in the set of his mouth.

"As for who I am... Well, it's as you can see," the figure spoke, a sharp smile becoming clear as the last of the shadows shrouding its face vanished.

Sephiroth's eyes widened, terror and shock warring in his young face. 

He couldn't breathe. The figure was close now, so close. And the shadows were slowly swallowing him, but he couldn't struggle, his control lost. His edges were blurring, bleeding out and being absorbed. It was the most painful thing the boy had ever felt, but also terribly, horrifyingly, muted, as though he was losing his senses one part, one inch, at a time.

"Don't worry," the figure murmured, "It will be over soon."

Sephiroth gave a shuddering gasp before falling limp, eyes drifting shut unwillingly. The shadows cradled the teen for a brief moment before slowly creeping over his chest, up his neck, and over his face. 

And Sephiroth was gone.

Meanwhile, in Nibelheim...

Cloud looked up, a frown marring his face as he distractedly lowered the makeshift wooden sword he was using to practice with.

"What's wrong?" asked Zack, head lifting in curiosity from where he'd been dozing beneath a tree, lazily supervising Cloud's sword training.

"Do you ever get the sudden sense that something you're really going to hate is happening? And it's going to come back and bite you later?" the blond grimaced, repositioning his hands and feet in order to resume practicing.

"Not particularly. Can you be more specific?" asked the Soldier-turned-wolf, sitting up and ears at attention.

Zack had found Cloud's intuition to be eerily accurate in their time in the village, perhaps due to his rather forced connection with the Planet. Cloud couldn't hear Her like Aerith could, but, much like an empath, he was sensitive to the "emotions" of the Planet and the flow of the Lifestream. 

The not-child paused for a moment, thinking, blue gaze distant.

"It feels like the Planet has arranged a... back-up plan? Or more like something unexpected happened, so it's compensating and will use it to Her advantage..." Cloud mused, frowning.

"That's more detail than I was expecting..." paused Zack, vaguely surprised. "My arriving here was a last ditch effort by Aerith and the other Cetra in the  Lifestream," he continued, "Sending you back and reversing the flow of time took a colossal amount of energy, I doubt the Planet had enough power to do anything else."

"That was before the Planet rewound, the damage it sustained and the energy it would have expended hasn't happened in the current timeline," explained Cloud, reasoning it out as he spoke, "The current Planet has the energy to fiddle with things. Like tumbling me into mako," he continued grimly, moving his practice sword through the air in a slow, but complicated maneuver. 

"What do you suppose could have gone wrong enough for the Planet to get involved, rather than sending her handy human WEAPON to go sort it out?" queried the puppy.

"The better question is how She was able to turn it into another advantage, and why I've got the sinking feeling it will be bad for me personally," Cloud replied, pausing to take a drink of water from the battered canteen Vincent had found and commandeered from the Shinra Mansion, "And don't think I'm not gonna get back at you for that human WEAPON comment," the blond groused, glaring at the wolf puppy (who wasn't looking so puppy-ish anymore).

Zack just laughed and stood, silently amazed at how he didn't feel nearly as cold in the Nibelheim climes anymore. Between his now sturdy paws and the mako, he could probably run for hours through the snow and ice without any ill effects.

"Guess we'll find out later. It's getting dark. Let's mosey!" Zack said, lifting his nose and scenting the air, "A storm's coming," he added, a frown in his voice as he began the walk back to their home.

"A storm is definitely coming, but I don't think it's just the weather," Cloud thought to himself, following after Zack's loping form.

Chapter Text

"run, you clever boy,

and remember.

run, regretful man,

you couldn't save her.

run, you tired hero,

don't forget her sacrifice.

but always keep in mind

it wasn't you who took her life."

-Unfortunately, I'm not sure what this is from or who wrote it, but it absolutely screamed "Cloud" to me. Either way, I take NO credit for these striking words!

Cloud slowly climbed his way into consciousness, reining his senses in one by one. It was more difficult than the not-child expected. His hearing and vision were filled with static, broken like a voice through a bad connection.

Not that he had a PHS anymore, he realized foggily as he turned his head to look around. It was too dark to see well, but the rich smell of damp earth and stone met his nose. Cloud's lips pulled into a frown and he winced; his lips were badly cut.

The small twinge of pain abruptly made him aware of the way his whole body ached, his sense of touch slowly returning and with it a better awareness of his situation.

It wasn't good.

The blond shifted uncomfortably. There was a hard, heavy weight on his back and his body was balled over something soft, hands and knees dug into sharp shale and icy snow as he kept himself taught and arched protectively over whomever was beneath him.

Cloud trembled. He could just barely feel the wet and warm oozing under his hands and knees, and likely a dozen other places he couldn't feel at the moment. He zoned out, automatically seeking the connection he shared with Zack, but all was silent except for the steady sound of moving water from somewhere nearby.

A small groan from underneath his chest caught the boy's attention. Cloud looked down, but still couldn't see anything more than a blur. A humanoid blur, but a blur all the same.

"Cloud?" Tifa's voice coughed, sounding just as out of it as Cloud felt, her breath ghosting against his neck. "What happened?" she asked tremulously, shaking hands reaching out, her fear tangible to Cloud's ringing ears, "Where are you?"

"I'm here," the blond said quietly, voice strained and hoarse, "I'm not sure what happened, but I think we fell..."

Cloud trailed off in a coughing fit that rattled his lungs and stole his breath. The not-child felt a small -pop- in his ribs and a shooting pain lanced through his side. Blue eyes clenched shut and Cloud tried to convince himself that breathing was necessary, even when it felt like he was being stabbed.

Once he could breathe again (mostly), Cloud could finally hear Tifa's terrified voice, desperately calling his name in between panicked sobs.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Cloud tried to reassure, voice more strained and faint than before, "Tifa, I need you to do something. Can you do it?"

Tifa took as deep a breath as she could and nodded, not realizing that Cloud couldn't see her well. Thankfully, Cloud could feel her hair move against his arm when she nodded.

"I need you to figure out what our situation is. I can't see well, and I don't think I can hold this position for much longer. I think I'm holding something up with my back..." the boy said, voice calm and measured, though barely discernable.

Whatever was resting on Cloud's back (it felt like a damn boulder, but it's not like he could see or check with his own hands to know for sure), the boy was worried that if he moved, everything would come crashing down on them.

Tifa nodded once more, taking deep breaths in a parody of meditation in order to calm herself. Panic wouldn't help them, and neither would rushing. The young girl took one more breath, Cloud's calm steadying her even further.

Slowly and smoothly, Tifa slid herself out from underneath Cloud's small chest. They had been in a T-shaped formation, Tifa stretched out beneath Cloud while he took the brunt of the fall and subsequent debris. The girl's heart clenched; Cloud must have covered her. It was the only way Cloud could have wound up in that position, hovering and arched over her, protecting her head and torso.

Tifa clenched her jaw, ignoring the tears stubbornly leaking from her brown eyes and began investigating their situation. Though she was unable to stand, her legs battered, bruised, and ankle likely sprained, she scooted herself further away from Cloud to get a better look in the half-light remaining to them. They were surrounded by boulders, rocks, and snow, jagged and sharp bits of shale and ice shattered around them in a cruel mimicry of gravel. Every movement hurt, but the girl persevered.

Tifa finally looked up and gasped. They were at the bottom of a snowy gorge, the rope bridge that had spanned the chasm they were currently in dangled far above their heads, swaying in the slight wind. The girl could clearly see where she and Cloud slipped, skidded, rolled, and crashed their way down the snowy rocks that lined the gorge, ending in the mini-avalanche pile perilously close to the deceptively slow river.

"Tifa?" called Cloud, exhaustion and strain obvious in his young voice.

"Oh! Hold on, Cloud," Tifa called back, hurriedly crawling the few yards back to Cloud.

Brown eyes critically examined the pile of snow and rock Cloud had braced on his back.

"I think I can dislodge most of the weight," said Tifa, hesitantly, "But I might cause more to fall on you if I'm not careful..."

"Then I guess you'll have to be careful," Cloud said, flashing Tifa a wan, slightly bloody grin.

Tifa eyed him worriedly. Cloud's face was pale and bruised; there were multiple cuts all over the left side of his face and likely down the rest of his body. His dark clothes hid any obvious blood, but parts of the fabric looked distinctly damp and there was blood clearly visible on the blond hair around his face.

"It's okay, Tifa. Just do what you can. I'll be fine," the boy said softly.

Cloud tried for a reassuring smile, but the blood on his face caused it to miss the mark. Tifa gave him an answering, if watery, smile and carefully staggered to her feet. She swayed and fell for a moment, catching herself on the rocks piled on and around Cloud, who gave a small, muffled grunt of discomfort.

Murmuring apologies, Tifa set to work. Carefully, bit by bit and piece by piece, Tifa removed what she could. She worked steadily, ignoring her body's exhaustion and pain as best she could. Cloud ordered her to take a break for a few minutes, which she did, before getting back to work. She knew Cloud couldn't manage much longer.

"I'll get you out, I promise!" Tifa said stridently, tugging at a particularly heavy rock, slick with snow and ice.

The child heaved with everything she had, but the rock wouldn't move. Scared, furious, and desperate, Tifa scrabbled at the stone, nails chipping and fingers bleeding from the rough stone and cold.

"Tifa! Tifa, it's okay! Stop, you're hurting yourself!" cried Cloud, the exhalation triggering a slew of coughs that shook his body and the debris on top of him, causing a cascade of rubble and freezing snow.

Which gave him an idea. A desperate, stupid idea, but an idea nonetheless. Zack would kill him, if the cold and rocks didn't do it first.

"Tifa, I have an idea. But I need your help," Cloud called softly, the soft call catching the panicking brunette's attention better than a yell ever could.

Tifa sniffled, scrubbing her eyes and wiping her runny nose on her sleeve.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked determinedly, brown eyes still damp with tears but unwavering.

"Grab the small rocks and snow, make a pile right next to me until it's level with my back. That should buy me enough time to slide out and away when it all falls," said the blond, exhaustion slurring his words while his body trembled from a combination of cold and muscle strain.

Tifa took a moment to process what Cloud said, understanding dawning quickly. She stumbled and limped her way to the pile of stone she'd created and began rolling, pushing, and carrying them to stack at Cloud's side, packing snow around the rocks to steady them.

A few minutes of quick, stumbling work later and Tifa amassed enough rock and snow to level it with Cloud's back.

"Is this good? Will it work?" asked Tifa worriedly, collapsing back on her hands and knees, her legs no longer able to support her.

"It should work," Cloud reassured her, "If I'm fast enough," he added silently, glancing to the rather dubious pile, "My body is mostly numb now, so this will be a bit tricky..." He paused a moment, calculating how and where he should move. "Alright Tifa, back away as much as you can. I'm going to move," the blond said, breathing as deeply as he dared in order to gear himself up.

Tifa nodded and scrambled back quickly, wincing as she dragged her overworked, injured legs behind her. Cloud waited a moment more before he eased his back down, letting the boulder come to rest on the pile Tifa made. The pile shifted and Cloud shot out and away, pushing off as strongly as he could manage with his battered body.

The pile lasted three seconds, barely enough for Cloud to get himself clear. Everything tumbled down with a muted rumble and the sound of grating rocks, small bits of ice and shale flying through the air to pepper the two children with even more cuts and bruises. Tifa cried out in surprise and pain as she ducked down, trying to protect her face from the shards and dust.

Cloud lay collapsed on the ground and gave a heartfelt groan. Everything pulsed with a dull ache, and there was an annoying prickling on the side of his skull; he couldn't even feel his back, which should have been worrisome, but Cloud didn't have it in him to feel concerned at the moment.

"I really hate cliffs," he muttered, glaring in the general vicinity of the collapsed bridge far above him; his vision was still a bit blurry.

"Cloud? Are you okay?" called Tifa, sitting up and trying to brush away the dust, snow, and rock from her clothes with trembling hands.

"I'm alright," Cloud replied through gritted teeth, his breath hitching in pain as he pushed himself upright.

With careful, experienced fingers, Cloud felt his ribs, pushing and prodding to check if any bones were broken or cracked. He breathed a careful sigh of relief. Nothing was broken, although the left side of his body was lacerated with cuts and gashes, most bleeding sluggishly; he was going to be black and blue for days despite the mako in his system.

"What do we do now?" asked Tifa, watching with worried eyes as Cloud's face creased with pain as he stood up on shaky legs.

"We have to find a way back up," the blond said simply, looking up with calculating eyes as he considered the climb ahead of them. Tifa followed his gaze and made a small, despairing sound at the steepness above them.

"....I don't think I can make that climb, Cloud," Tifa said hesitantly, biting her lip and fisting her damaged fingers into her dirtied white dress, "I can't seem to stand anymore."

Cloud looked back down at Tifa, immediately moving and crouching down next to her to check over her injuries, cursing himself all the while.

"I should have checked on her sooner. Of course she has injuries after all that," the boy thought, inner voice biting, "All these years, all this time and knowledge, and I still can't keep her safe... I can't keep anyone safe."

Tifa's legs were in bad shape, though not broken. Her right ankle was badly sprained and her left knee took a bad hit at some point. It was bleeding heavily and showed signs of swelling.

There was no way she'd be able to walk, let alone climb.

"Nothing seems to be broken, but you're right. Climbing is impossible for you now. I'm sorry, Tifa... I don't even have anything to wrap your ankle or knee with," said Cloud quietly, knowing his own clothes, tainted with his own blood and shredded as they were wouldn't do the young girl any good. "I wish I had more materia..." he thought, teeth gritted in frustration.

"It's alright, Cloud," Tifa said, forcing a grin to her lips, "Leave me here and go find help. I'll be alright, I'm quite strong now!" she continued, raising her arm and fist, wincing as she flexed her bicep to illustrate her point.

Cloud felt a smile creep to his lips at Tifa's bravado and shook his head in amusement. Tifa always had a knack for pulling him out of his head.

"Normally, you might've been fine. But it's getting colder, and we have no equipment or clothes to withstand the cold. You're also injured, and we're both bleeding, which means predators are more apt to find us and attack," he paused, taking a deep breath that made his lungs ache, "There's no way I can leave you alone, and we can't stay here..." the boy explained, trailing off as he stared up at the cliff, deep in thought.

There was only one thing he could do, Cloud realized. He would have to carry her on his back.

"This is going to hurt," he thought resignedly.

Cloud hated being right.

Using a combination of his overlarge cloth belt and the sturdy under-layer of Tifa's dress, Cloud fashioned a sling to secure Tifa to his back. It was extremely uncomfortable, the materials digging into Cloud's bruises and cuts, but at least it kept her supported and mostly balanced on his back. He wished he was taller; he could feel Tifa's feet brush the ground every now and again on the steeper inclines, and felt the girl wince when her knee was jostled by it.

But there was nothing he could do except to keep them moving.

The going was arduous, zig-zagging back and forth up the steep incline, since climbing straight up with Tifa on his back was unfortunately impossible. The only reason he was managing so far was due to the pure mako in his system and his own will-power.

“Zack? Can you hear me?” called Cloud, mentally reaching for the reassuring connection.

When no reply came, Cloud gritted his teeth, trying to keep the worry at bay. He knew it was probably a matter of distance and that there was no need for the anxiety coiling in his gut, but his paranoia always insisted otherwise.

Distracted by his worries, Cloud misstepped. Tifa cried out in fear, clutching her thin arms around Cloud’s neck as they skidded backwards, freezing shale biting into Cloud’s ankles and shins. He reached out, digging his hands into the rock, desperately trying to find purchase to halt their descent.

A few meters down, the two came to a stop, Cloud breathing heavily as blood poured anew from his arms, hands, and legs, dripping irritatingly down his skin. Unfortunately, Tifa’s legs picked up a few cuts as well.

“Are you alright, Cloud?” asked Tifa shakily, her arms still holding a death grip around her friend’s neck.

“I’ve been better. Sorry for scaring you,” Cloud apologized tiredly, his harsh breaths turning white in the air.

“Who says I’m scared? You—,” she paused, searching for a grave enough insult for Cloud’s transgression, “You chocobo!” the girl shot back huffily.

The blond let out a startled laugh at Tifa’s rapid turn from scared to offended, her mood and childish insult a welcome change to her earlier worry and fear.

With renewed determination and energy, Cloud resumed their climb after checking the makeshift harness, this time making sure his mind stayed focused on the task at hand. He didn’t allow himself to think, otherwise the exhaustion that shook his limbs would swamp him, and Cloud wouldn’t be able to keep moving.

“I have to get her home... I have to get us home.”

Zack was frantic with worry. He couldn’t find Cloud, and searching the village was fruitless, any scent left over was hours old and lead nowhere. Too many other scents crisscrossed over what was left, and the light layer of snowfall obliterated everything else.

Eventually, after searching the nearby forests and caves, the Nibel wolf decided to try the Shinra Mansion. Cloud wasn’t there, and neither was Vincent.

“Vincent would have been able to track him, or at least ask anyone if they’ve seen Cloud,” thought Zack bitterly, a low, frustrated growl emanating from his chest, for the first time truly regretting that he’d been placed in the form of a wolf.

The canine began his way back down the trail, a strong wind building and ruffling his fur. Zack shook himself, fluffing his fur to insulate his body better against the wind and approaching night. There was a certain appeal to the cold, now that he was a Nibel wolf. Often, he found himself enjoying it and staying outside longer just to savor it.

“Not that I’ll ever tell Cloud that,” he thought with a laugh, lifting his nose into the air to scent for other predators.

Zack froze, eyes widening, ears and tail erect.

“Cloud? He’s bleeding, and bleeding a lot… What the hell has he gotten into?” thought Zack frantically, breaking into a run, tearing through the woods as he followed the scent of Cloud’s mako-tinted blood.

As he got closer, Zack was able to pick out Tifa’s scent as well, realizing the two were likely together.

The scent faded briefly and the wolf skidded to a stop before a cliff, trying to pick up Cloud’s bloody trace again. Zack paused a moment, distracted, staring at the cliff in something akin to awe. It split the land in two, a long gouge through the earth with steep sides that dropped down to a river with narrow banks.

Zack shook himself, refocusing on trying to find his young friends. He lifted his nose once more, turning this way and that in an attempt to catch the scent on the air.

The smell of mako, blood, and Cloud’s unique scent of wood, metal, and herbs struck Zack’s sensitive nose like a hammer. Zack sneezed once before letting out a hopeful yip, large paws loping gracefully along the cliffside as he followed it.

“Seems like they’re near the bridge,” realized Zack, following the kids’ scents along the edge of the cliff, noting the steep drop with a niggling worry. “Cloud mentioned something like this before, didn’t he?” the former Soldier wondered, “About him and Tifa and the bridge?”

The sound of tumbling rocks echoing from the chasm caught Zack’s attention, ears flicking automatically towards the sound.

“Cloud?!” shouted Zack along their connection, throwing in an echoing bark.

“Zack?” came the faint reply, Cloud’s inner voice sounding tired and exhaustedly hopeful. “Are you okay?”

“Considering the amount of blood I can smell from you, I should be asking you that,” responded Zack grimly, finally reaching where the remains of a rope bridge drifted in the wind and looked down, immediately spotting Cloud’s blond head, along with Tifa’s.

“I’m just a little banged up from the fall,” explained Cloud, continuing to climb, slow and steady, “I’ll be fine.”

“Sure you will,” Zack agreed easily, “Because you’re never going anywhere without me again,” he continued, watching with well-concealed worry as Cloud climbed, Tifa a heavy weight on the small boy’s back.

Cloud winced, recognizing Zack’s “I’m-older-and-outrank-you, so-you-have-no-choice” tone.

“Alright, alright, leave me alone so I can concentrate,” grumbled Cloud, “This isn’t as easy as it looks. I don’t suppose you have any rope up there?” he asked after a pause, wincing as a particularly sharp bit of stone stabbed into his palm.

“There’s a bit of the rope bridge left, but since I don’t have opposable thumbs, you’re out of luck,” the wolf replied, glancing to the rope still coiled tightly around the bridge’s support pole.

“That’s a running theme in my life,” Cloud laughed, trying to keep the strain of bitterness from reaching Zack’s mental ears.

Zack heard it anyway, but didn’t comment. He just watched, still as a guard dog and focused on Cloud and Tifa’s slow ascent.

Twenty long, nerve-wracking minutes later, and Cloud was reaching over the edge, struggling to pull himself and Tifa onto solid ground. Zack leapt forward, grabbing the back of Tifa’s dress to haul her forward, taking extra care to not accidentally nip the girl’s skin. Cloud cried out, his wounds dragging against the rocky edge as Zack pulled, the harness pulling him as well. Zack released them both, now that they were on solid ground. Tifa scrambled clumsily out of the harness, struggling with her injured legs and desperate to not harm Cloud further.

Finally free, Tifa turned her attention fully to Cloud.

“Cloud, are you alright?” asked Tifa, hands hovering with the urge to help her friend, but not sure how.

“I’m alright, just let me lay here for a minute,” he groaned, limbs trembling from pain and exhaustion. “I’m going to be feeling this for days,” he sighed inwardly.

“You are,” agreed Zack, deceptively calm, “You overdid it, not that I can blame you.” He paused, friendly tone falling away, “Actually, I can. What possessed you to not seek help? Or at least throw me a yell when you were close enough for me to hear you?” Zack growled, hackles raised and tail down, entering full Soldier dress-down, mother hen mode.

Cloud flinched, unable to defend or explain himself, Zack now running full tilt. For the next few minutes, Zack listed out everything that could have gone wrong (and did go wrong), reminding Cloud that he wasn’t doing all of this alone, and that if Cloud couldn’t ask for help or give Zack a heads up, that Cloud would be the one wearing a goddamn leash.

Eventually, Zack slowed down, trailing off into mutters, commiserating with past/future Tifa and wishing that he could have a stiff drink, flopping down to rest his head on his large paws.

Cloud couldn’t tell if he wanted to laugh or cry. He hadn’t received a dressing-down that thorough since he was a trooper, and even then it hadn’t been done out of concern.

He felt thoroughly chastised.

“I’m sorry, Zack. I wasn’t trying to worry you, or cut you out. I just didn’t have time to think. Tifa was running off, she already had a head start. And I knew she was going to get hurt, maybe worse if I didn’t follow her like before. Of course, she still got hurt in the end,” Cloud continued, slightly unfocused and knowing he was rambling, but unable to stop, “Everything went wrong. I tried to keep her off the bridge, but she used one of the kicks she learned from Zangan. She’s only eight, but she kicks like a behemoth,” he mused absently before continuing, “I hit the boards and the bridge rocked. Next thing I know, the bridge is coming apart in the middle, just like before. I grabbed Tifa’s hand and ran. We almost made it. Just a few feet from solid land before everything dropped from under us. We hit the rocks and slid, and the snow and ice moving caused a rock-slide. I guess I managed to shield her for the most part. We didn’t get crushed, at any rate, though Tifa’s legs took some bad hits.”

Zack stared at Cloud, feeling a little bad for yelling at the not-child.

“Why did you decide to climb so soon? You could have waited until morning, got some rest or hopefully have been found,” Zack asked, curious.

Cloud raised a tired eyebrow.

“You should know well enough why we couldn’t stay. For one, it gets far too cold without any equipment, never mind that Tifa and I are children, so our survivability is cut in half. For two, you could smell my blood for kilometers away. What makes you think other predators wouldn’t have shown up once night fell?” Cloud took a breath, “And third, there’s no guarantee we’d have been found. No one but my mother would have looked for me, and none of the villagers would have thought to look for Tifa at the bridge, not until they eliminated other avenues.”

“You’re right,” sighed the wolf, glancing at Tifa who was on the verge of falling into an exhausted sleep, “The village would have pulled out all the stops to find their little princess.”

“Not so for the village bastard,” grinned Cloud sardonically, voicing the end of Zack’s silent thought.

The two were silent for a while, watching as the sun continued its descent, the sky slowly entering into its twilight hues, the brightest of the constellations winking into existence for their march across the sky, growing ever brighter as the sky became ever darker.

“We should get moving again,” Cloud finally said aloud, Tifa stirring from her pseudo sleep at Cloud’s voice, dark hair mussed and face drawn, dress torn and dirtied, a mix of Cloud’s and her own blood flecking the white fabric.

Cloud knew he looked no better, but at least his clothes were dark enough to conceal most of the blood.

Tifa attempted to stand, determined to not burden Cloud again. She barely rose past her knees before her ankle and knee gave out, Cloud moving swiftly, catching her just before she fell on her face. The pretty girl frowned, on the verge of frustrated tears again.

“It’s alright, Tifa. We’ll just use the harness again,” smiled Cloud, blue eyes gentle.

“What if I rode on Zack’s back? That way I wouldn’t be weighing you down,” suggested Tifa, frowning in thought as she eyed the wolf that seemed to get larger and larger each day.

Cloud paused, thinking for a moment.

“I’d rather be the one to carry you. I’m too tired and injured to protect us, but Zack can guard us while we walk. And it’s better for him to be able to move freely, just in case,” the blond explained, thinking out loud.

Zack gave a nod in understanding and Tifa blinked in surprise. She knew the wolf was intelligent, but sometimes… Sometimes the wolf seemed almost human. Tifa shuddered for a moment, disturbed, before dismissing the thought.

Cloud dropped into a crouch and Tifa cautiously slid her legs into the harness, Zack standing beside them and offering Tifa his back in order to support her weight. Cloud tugged the harness, resituating it to wrap around her back to stabilize her body and keep her from slipping.

Cloud strained, using Zack to help him rise to his feet. He let out a small groan of effort and rolled his neck, feeling Tifa relax against his back.

“At least this time, I’m only walking, not climbing,” thought Cloud, wincing as the harness bit into his skin, knowing that he was going to have a motley collection of pressure bruises to go along with everything else.

And he was still bleeding.

“Of course you’re still bleeding; you haven’t given your body the rest it needs to truly begin clotting. You’re also dehydrated, starving, and you don’t possess nearly the amount of mako you’re used to. And you’re a kid,” commented Zack, “You’re going to be on bedrest for days,” smirked the wolf, matching his pace to Cloud’s slow one, making note of every injury he could see, including the one on Cloud’s head, the red showing easily in the blond hair.

A bruise was also beginning to show itself down the side of Cloud’s face. Hours must have gone by for it to be showing up by now, realized Zack. Which meant that Cloud was definitely near the end of his stamina, if not long past. It was a miracle Cloud was still moving, especially with carrying Tifa’s weight for so long, and climbing with it nonetheless. The mako certainly was a factor, but Zack was certain that it was mostly just Cloud being Cloud.

“Stupid, self-sacrificing, stubborn, determined Cloud who doesn’t know when to quit. I don’t even think he knows how. It’s no wonder Sephiroth wanted to end him, get revenge. Cloud’s tenacity is frightening,” mused Zack, somewhere between impressed and worried as he watched Cloud trudge on, the blond’s single-minded focus bent on placing one foot in front of the other.

“I wish Vincent were here,” Zack finally said a few minutes later, concerned as Cloud took a small break, hand braced against a tree along the path, “He’d be able to carry you, and the princess.”

“I’m so tired, I’d probably let him,” replied Cloud, a wan grin pulling on his too-pale face.

“As if either of us would listen if you said no,” scoffed Zack.

Cloud flipped him off, too tired to respond more than that as he started walking once more. Tifa had long since fallen asleep on his back, her body a comforting warmth on his back, reassuring him that the girl was alive and mostly well.

Another ten minutes passed, night almost completely fallen. Thankfully, Zack could lead the way, and the mako in Cloud’s system allowed him to see better in the dark than most people.

“Not too far, now, Cloud. You’re almost there,” spoke Zack encouragingly, “Just another few minutes and we’ll be back in Nibelheim.”

Cloud bit his lip. While it was wonderful they’d finally be home, it was also going to be highly unpleasant, if he remembered correctly. Zack looked askance at Cloud, picking up on his friend’s unease.

“Zack, try not to react to whatever happens, okay?” Cloud finally said, inner voice hesitant.

“I’ll try?” the wolf responded, voice questioning as they finally, at long last, stepped into Nibelheim.

Cloud made it three quarters of the way to Tifa’s house before they were spotted, flashlights, lanterns, and even torches suddenly spilling light onto the three of them in a dizzying array of sudden light-blindness. The next few minutes were a flurry of activity, townspeople swarming from all sides, throwing accusations, questions, and multiple hands trying to grab Tifa from his back, only to be halted by the makeshift harness (Cloud was amazed the harness was still holding up).

“Enough!” bellowed a voice, shocking everyone into a still silence.

The villagers backed away, all except Roy Benson, Gael Frobisher, and Brigid Glannis. Roy was clutching Cloud’s shoulder with a bruising grip, managing to find the one bruise on that particular shoulder, much to Cloud’s irritation.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Zack, who was currently uttering a low growl, thankfully lost amongst the quiet murmurs of the surrounding villagers.

“Small mercies,” thought Cloud, wincing as Roy dug his fingers more deeply into his shoulder as Mayor Lockhart emerged, stepping into the light surrounding Cloud and Tifa.

“Where is my daughter?” the Mayor spoke, worry evident on his face as he scanned the array of people around him.

“The boy has her,” grunted Roy, abruptly shoving Cloud forward, expression twisted with distaste.

Cloud stumbled, but miraculously kept himself from falling at the mayor’s feet.

“Give her here, boy! What happened to her for you to be carrying her?” cried the man, reaching for his daughter, still fast asleep on Cloud’s back.

Cloud crouched down, startling the adults around him. Miss Glannis reached forward automatically to help the child, thinking him to be collapsing, but paused for a moment when she watched Cloud begin undoing the harness that secured Tifa to his back.

“Let me help, Cloud. You look dead on your feet,” she spoke, her voice discordantly husky and blunt compared to her beautiful, red-haired appearance.

Cloud blinked at the unexpected help, but nodded his acquiescence anyway. When Miss Glannis finally lifted Tifa carefully from his back, he gave a silent sigh of relief.

“Is she alright? What’s wrong with her?” fretted Mayor Lockhart, pushing forward to be closer to his daughter.

“She’s fine,” assured Glannis, looking over the girl carefully, “Just sleeping. I can tell you more once I get her and Cloud inside. They both need attention, and someone needs to send for Elle,” she continued, taking charge with the ease of long practice, gesturing for Mayor Lockhart to pick up his daughter, which he did immediately.

Frobisher nodded, taking off at a run for Cloud’s home. Glannis turned to survey the rest of the crowd with stern eyes.

“The rest of you spread the word that the children are found, and then go home. This isn’t a show for you to watch. If you have no business here, get lost,” she ordered firmly, “I do need a volunteer to carry Cloud inside, it’s a wonder he’s still conscious at this point.”

The sudden silence was oppressive and telling. No one moved for a moment, until Cloud let out a quiet huff of unsurprised laughter and began to stand back up on his own, using Zack to assist him, the wolf quietly offering his support. Cloud swayed for a moment, his vision going dark.

“Careful, Cloud,” said Zack, worried, shifting his frame closer to the boy now being studiously ignored by those around him; Zack felt his rage rising along with his fur. Only Cloud’s earlier request kept him still.

“Shame on the lot of you!” a voice roared, deep and guttural.

Everyone’s heads jerked up in surprise, Zangan’s voice cutting through the night like a whip. The man was suddenly there; rust colored cape flaring behind him as he approached Cloud’s side, picking the boy up as though he weighed nothing. Cloud let out an involuntary hiss, his wounds making themselves known with an insistence the not-child wasn’t prepared for.

“This isn’t necessary, you know,” murmured Cloud, “The mayor isn’t going to like hearing what happened,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper as he gave a nod at the distracted mayor.

“Nonsense. That’s all the more reason for me to be here. You’re my student, after all,” the older man grinned, his own voice just as quiet.

“He’s quite right,” agreed Miss Glannis brusquely, “And you’re in far worse shape than little Tifa. Mayor!” she called, “Get the children inside now, if you please!” The woman turned to Zangan, “Don’t let Cloud leave, I need to go grab my med kit,” she ordered quietly, turning quickly to return to her home a few houses away.

Cloud found himself wondering just what Brigid Glannis’ background was. She reminded him of the medic from Avalanche: brisk, no nonsense, and thoroughly displeased with the way Cloud took care of himself. She had an ageless look, both old and young simultaneously.

“This way, then,” Mayor Lockhart finally spoke coolly, tossing an unreadable glance at Cloud, the glint in his dark eyes promising a reckoning of some sort.

Cloud sighed, but allowed himself to be carried into Mayor Lockhart’s large house, Zack following quietly and unobtrusively behind. Cloud watched, slightly impressed as Zack managed to slip in through the door just before it shut. Mayor Lockhart turned to regard the two behind him, still clutching Tifa to his chest, as though afraid she would disappear.

“What happened out there?” demanded Lockhart, rounding on Cloud.

“Sir, shouldn’t you get Tifa laid down in her bedroom?” Cloud responded quietly, a bit worried at the wild look in the mayor’s eyes. “Explanations can wait until then.”

The mayor gritted his teeth and spun on his heal, heading swiftly up the stairs to Tifa’s bedroom without another word.

“You should put me down,” said Cloud, “Quickly.”

Unsure, but for some reason still obeying the child, Zangan carefully lowered Cloud to the floor, noting the boy’s wince. The fighter glanced over the boy with a critical eye, noting with surprise the dried blood, numerous cuts, bruises, and contusions scattered on the boy’s visible skin. Zangan shook his head, marveling that the child wasn’t crying from pain.

Sighing gustily, Zangan straightened up, his old bones creaking. He reached up to rub at his forehead and frowned in surprise: his hand was covered in blood. The man looked from his hand and back down to Cloud.

“Where are you bleeding from?” asked Zangan, voice grim.

Cloud glanced up at the old man, slightly surprised at the question.

“Probably my side. Sliding down a cliff full of shale is notoriously harsh on the skin,” the boy said absently, his older personality slipping through with his exhaustion.

“What?” hissed Zangan, “How are you still-?”

“Tifa is asleep in her bed,” spoke Mayor Lockhart, interrupting the quiet conversation, appearing at the top of the stairs with a stony expression, “Now, I suggest you tell me everything, boy.”

Zangan blinked in shock, head jerking up to stare at Lockhart. He knew that Lockhart intensely disliked Cloud, and Elle, for that matter, but never before had Zangan heard the mayor speak to anyone like that, let alone an injured child.

And Cloud, the poor kid, didn’t look surprised or fazed at the treatment he was receiving.

“It appears I was mistaken. The maltreatment was not limited to only coming from other children,” thought Zangan grimly, eyes narrowed.

“Tifa believed that her mother was on the other side of the mountain, so she went to find her, and the bridge collapsed beneath us,” Cloud stated simply, staring up at the mayor evenly.

“Why in Gaea’s name would she believe that?” exclaimed Lockhart, hurrying down the stairs.

“Perhaps because no one told her that her mother was dead,” responded Cloud coolly, blue eyes suddenly far older than what they should be.

“Nonsense!” shouted the man, face twisting angrily, “I told her that her mother was gone,” he continued more calmly, dismissively turning his back, figuratively and literally.

“Gone,” reiterated Cloud, “Not “dead”. That’s a big distinction to make for a child. You didn’t tell her the truth. You need to tell her and let her grieve properly.”

“Don’t you dare tell me how to raise my daughter! You are a child, and I have a strong suspicion this is all you fault to begin with! Tifa never would have run off before she started seeing you!”

Cloud sighed, knowing it was futile, but he pressed on anyway.

“Tifa’s decision had nothing to do with me. All I did was tell her to speak with you,” Cloud said calmly, wishing he could sit down, but he didn’t dare; he might not get back up, and Lockhart was looking distinctly unhinged. “I saw her leaving town and got worried, so I followed her. I tried to tell her that her mother wouldn’t be on the other side and that she should go back and speak with you, but she kept going and the bridge collapsed. We fell into the gorge and I carried her back, since she couldn’t walk. That’s all that happened,” explained Cloud, hoping Lockhart would leave it as is.

He didn’t have high hopes.

The mayor stood there, staring down at Cloud, glassy-eyed as though on a drug of some kind. Cloud stared back, expression neutral as he watched the grief-stricken man’s last thread snap.

“This is all your fault!” cried the mayor. Livid with sudden rage, he lunged forward, striking Cloud’s cheek with the back of his fist, sending the boy to the tiled floor. “If you and your whore mother didn’t come to this town, none of this would have happened! My wife and I wouldn’t have—! Get out! Get out!” he screamed, face turning purple as he pointed at the door.

“Mayor Lockhart! Calm yourself,” yelled Zangan, stepping forward to block the man from approaching Cloud, arms spread wide in a defensive, placating gesture.

Zack leapt out of the shadows as soon as Cloud hit the floor, landing in a protective crouch over Cloud’s still form, teeth bared and hackles raised. Zangan’s interference and the growls increasing in length and volume broke through the mayor’s brief madness for a moment.

“How-? Why-? What is a Nibel wolf doing in my house?” the mayor stammered, peering over Zangan’s shoulder, eyes wide with fear and panic.

Zangan glanced back, his own eyes widening for a moment before remembering the wolf puppy he’d noticed trailing Cloud’s steps a few weeks prior. A wry grin cracked his stoic expression.

“That would be Cloud’s friend. He really doesn’t like it when Cloud gets hurt,” Zangan explained, giving the mayor a smile that showed all his teeth.

The wolf barked in agreement before letting loose an eerie howl, its eyes seeming to glow as it glared at Mayor Lockhart.

“Now, if you promise not to go after the boy again, I’ll take Cloud and wolf out of your house,” bargained the old man, slowly straightening from his defensive stance.

“Yes, yes, that’s fine. Get them out!” ordered the man hoarsely, the whites of his eyes stark in his tanned face.

Zangan nodded, turning to go to Cloud, but keeping a cautious eye on the unpredictable mayor.

“May I?” asked Zangan quietly, eyeing the wolf warily as he crouched beside them and gestured to Cloud.

The wolf backed off, allowing Zangan to pick up Cloud with no problem. The growl, however, never stopped, not until they were out of the house and a street away.

“Brigid’s going to be pissed,” muttered Zangan, “I’m getting too old for this, you know,” said Zangan, directing his words to the wolf trotting at his side, protectively alert.

To Zangan’s surprise, the wolf let out a chuff that sounded distinctly like a laugh.

“Definitely too old,” he mumbled with a shake of his grey head.

Cloud groaned, awareness returning slowly and painfully. Memory returned with it, and he promptly wished it hadn’t when he opened his eyes, Zangan’s weathered face swimming into view with questions written openly on the man’s expression.

“Am I… Home?” asked Cloud hesitantly, his vision still blurry and unfocused, “Planet, I feel like I have a concussion again,” he muttered, reaching up with a bandaged hand to rub his temples.

“You do,” Brigid Glannis stated, smoky voice filled with ire as she strode into the room, “That tends to happen when an adult hits you hard enough to knock you out and crack your head on floor tiles.”

“So, that’s why it feels like a bagnadrana is tap-dancing in my skull,” he sighed.

“Yes. And I imagine the blood loss doesn’t help, nor do your cracked ribs, shredded side, or the most impressive set of bruising on your back that I’ve ever seen. What landed on you, a boulder?” vented the doctor, looking decidedly put out at the amount of damage done to the eight year old as she mixed and measured a rather disgusting concoction of herbs into multiple beakers before placing one atop a heating coil set into an expensive medical trolley at Cloud’s bedside, “And don’t get me started about everything else. You’re covered in smaller cuts and bruises, you’ve overstrained your muscles, and your joints are swollen to the point it’s a miracle you were still able to move them. You’re not to be out of bed for at least a week, preferably two,” the woman growled.

Cloud was fairly certain the muddy concoction was for him to drink.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you did it,” spoke Zangan seriously, “I went to take a look at the bridge and I saw the rockslide and the path you climbed up. It’s obvious you protected Tifa, considering she’s walking away from the incident with minimal injuries. Your own were far more severe, but you were able to not only climb back up the cliff and return to town, but you did it with Tifa strapped to your back,” continued the fighter, his gaze intense in a way that made Cloud feel uncomfortable.

It was similar to the way everyone looked at him after he defeated Sephiroth. Nausea churned in Cloud’s stomach. Noting the boy’s discomfort, Glannis spoke up.

“The human body can do amazing things when the occasion calls for it,” she said simply, though the experienced woman had an inkling of perhaps where Cloud’s strength and stamina came from, though she had no intention of bringing it up or telling anyone; the boy had enough trouble.

Thankful for Glannis’ distraction, Cloud looked around the room he found himself in. It was not home, at least, not his, but it was well-off and had the feel of a clinic, another couple beds nearby and the heavy smell of herbs, medicine, and bleach floating in the air. White, gauzy curtains covered the one window opposite, and a large cabinet stood in the corner.

“This must be Glannis’ home then. Where’s Zack? And mom?” wondered Cloud, a knot of worry forming in his chest.

“I’m here, Spikey,” called Zack, “Glannis wouldn’t let me in. Apparently, wolves aren’t known for their cleanliness,” he pouted, genuinely miffed; Cloud kept him quite clean, after all, brushed his fur and everything.

“Sorry, Zack,” apologized Cloud, a little amused, but also a bit sad. This sort of thing would likely happen a lot, especially if they went to Midgar in the future.

“It’s alright,” Zack reassured him, “That Glannis woman scares me, anyway,” he said ruefully, “She reminds me of Aerith’s mom.”

“Do you mean Elmyra? Or Ifalna?” asked Cloud, slightly confused.

“Elmyra. I didn’t meet Ifalna until I entered the Lifestream. She’s a very strong, sweet lady, by the way. Elmyra was strong, too, but terrifying. I never brought Aerith back late from a date,” Zack stated with conviction, a shudder rippling through the two’s mental connection.

Cloud felt a small grin creep across his lips, feeling a little lighter than before.

“Speaking of mom’s, where is mine?” asked Cloud, looking around even though he already knew his mother wasn’t in the room.

“She’s asleep in the other room,” Zack assured him, “She stayed and helped Brigid with all your wounds, even after being out searching for you and Tifa for hours.”

“No one’s told her about what Mayor Lockhart said, right?” the blond asked sharply.

“I don’t believe so, but I don’t know for sure,” Zack responded, a growl blurring the sound of Zack’s inner voice at the memory of Lockhart, “I didn’t realize Tifa’s father was such a bastard!”

“I didn’t either, not exactly… I think I realized something I shouldn’t have, though. And Lockhart may realize that eventually,” mused Cloud, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

“Should we ask Vincent to watch him?” Zack asked, feeling a bit worried himself.

“No. I don’t believe anything will come of it, but we should still be careful,” said the blond, running a tired hand through his hair. He felt bone-deep tired, and everything hurt; his bruises had bruises.

“You make absolutely certain that you’re never alone with him, or with him period, since apparently no one has any idea how easily that bastard resorts to violence,” growled Zack.

“At least he genuinely seems to love Tifa. And she never said anything about him being violent or abusive with her, just a little controlling,” commented Cloud.

“That in and of itself can be concerning,” rebutted Zack gravely.

“I know, but it’s not like I can do anything other than keep watch and make sure I ask how she’s doing,” the boy responded, clenching his fist in the blanket covering his legs.

“Sometimes, that’s all that’s needed,” said Zack softly, his voice that of experience.

The two fell silent, the mental connection reassuring after the events of the day as Brigid finished up the medicine she was concocting, Zangan still seated nearby and watching with interest. Brigid poured the finished dose into a small mug, for all the world looking like she was handing him a strange cup of tea.

“Drink this. It will help fight infection and dull the pain,” she said simply.

Cloud eyed the mug with distrust. The smell was potent, eye watering and nostril burning.

“Hurry up, before my arm falls off, would you?” glared Glannis, “Or do I need to get your mother?”

Cloud took the mug, glaring back at the she-devil. Cloud eyed the murky contents for a moment more before placing the mug to his lips and throwing it back like he used to do with alcohol.

He managed to get it all down, but by the end he was gagging and coughing, the mug slipping from his bandaged hands. Brigid caught it with a smirk.

“I didn’t say it would be pleasant,” she said breezily, eyes glinting with evil humor as she swept out of the room to return the mug to her kitchen.

“You should bottle that and label it as poison,” Cloud said hoarsely, wiping a trembling hand over his mouth.

“Technically, all medicine is poison,” the woman called, “It just depends on the dose.”

Cloud made a face, sticking his tongue out after the woman.

“Don’t stick your tongue out at me, boy, or your next dose of meds will numb your tongue till all you can do is drool,” Brigid shot back, still in the kitchen judging by the sound of plates and utensils clattering on the counter.

Cloud immediately looked around the room, trying to spot hidden cameras, anything at all. But he found nothing.

“She’s definitely a witch. Or a demon,” thought Cloud grumpily, Zack howling with amusement in the back of his aching head.

“You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you?” smirked the doctor, walking back through the door with food in hand.

Cloud and Zack both froze, Cloud staring at the doctor warily as Zack sputtered in shock.

“You know what? I don’t want to know. Food, please?” asked Cloud, reaching for the plate with small hands, and slightly desperate; he did not need more Planets, deities, or whatever the hell Brigid was, mucking about in his life.

“Sure, kid. Eat up,” Glannis said, not unkindly as she passed the plate carefully into Cloud’s hands.

“Do I get food?” asked Zangan plaintively from his seat by the bed.

Brigid laughed and handed him the second plate.

“Big old karate master can’t make a sandwich on his own?” she mocked.

“Not this good,” he said shamelessly, flashing a quick grin before promptly digging in and inhaling the sandwich.

“What about me?” whined Zack, “I’m hungry, too, guys.”

“Uhm, Miss Glannis?” Cloud asked hesitantly, putting down his own sandwich after swallowing carefully.

“Yes, Cloud?” Brigid replied, a knowing smile on her face as she cleaned up her medical trolley.

“Would you mind feeding Zack? My wolf, I mean,” stuttered the not-child, “I’ll pay you back whatever he eats as soon as I can,” he continued hurriedly, again finding himself clenching the blanket with his fingers.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got some meat already cooking in the oven for him and a bowl of water to go with it,” Brigid paused for a moment, holding up a hand to forestall Cloud’s thanks, “Don’t worry about repayment. There is no way I will accept payment from a child,” the doctor said sternly, “Although, if it bothers you so much, I could always use a guinea pi— I mean assistant,” she corrected, smiling prettily as though she hadn’t just asked Cloud to be her lab rat.

“I will accept your generosity,” Cloud said quickly, shuddering at the idea.

Time eased a great many things, Cloud found. Doctors were mostly acceptable, particularly female ones. Needles were doable, and he could even handle mako. But physical labs and scientists still left him distinctly twitchy and prompted old nightmares to the forefront of his mind, especially now that there was the possibility of it happening all over again.

“Definitely scary,” Cloud heard Zack mutter, “I wonder if-“

“Nope, no. No wondering. We don’t need more trouble,” Cloud interrupted Zack’s thought firmly.

“Ah, right,” said Zack, slightly sheepish.

Cloud finished up his sandwich, handing the plate to Glannis when she held out her hand. Zangan handed her his plate as well before he stood.

“I’d best get going,” he said, looking slightly regretful, “I’ll check on you as I can. Tifa , too. I can’t let my two best students be lazy,” he joked, reaching out to ruffle Cloud’s hair, mindful of the wounds to his head.

“We’re your only students,” Cloud pointed out, resisting the urge to push the old man’s hand away.

“Nonsense! I have 128 students all over this world,” laughed Zangan, waving a large hand as he left the room to begin his short trek home.

“I guess I should get home, too,” said Cloud, watching the old man leave, “Thank you for taking care of me,” he added, glancing up at Brigid for a moment before drawing back the blanket and moving to stand, desperately wanting to go home.

He placed his feet on the floor and stood. He yelped in surprise and pain as his legs gave out beneath him and he dropped harshly onto his knees, his entire body abruptly flaring with pain from the jarring fall.

“Didn’t I tell you that you’re restricted to bed rest?” Glannis commented, stepping away from the trolley and crouching down next to Cloud.

“I just want to go home,” breathed Cloud, staring at the floor tiredly.

“I understand that, but you need to listen to your body. It’s making itself quite clear. You’re staying here for a couple days until I’m satisfied you’re on the mend and that there’s no danger of infection. And then your mom can take you home where you can enjoy your bedrest in your own bed, in your own room,” Brigid explained, leaving no room for argument, “Your mom will be staying here as well, so you don’t need to worry. Now, what do you say?”

“Alright,” sighed Cloud.

“Try again,” said Brigid, raising an eyebrow.

“Devil lady,” thought Cloud, “Yes, ma’am?” he said cautiously.

“Perfect,” she smirked, tousling his hair roughly and ignoring his yelp, before carefully grabbing Cloud and lifting him bodily back onto the bed, tucking the blanket around him, “Now, get some sleep,” she ordered, smoky voice brisk and businesslike.

Cloud didn’t get the chance to reply, the doctor already flicking off the light and closing the door behind her, leaving Cloud in a comfortable darkness.

“Why are all the women in my life so terrifying?” wondered Cloud, collapsing tiredly onto the pillow behind his head.

“They do say blonds have the most fun,” cackled Zack.

Cloud responded with a series of expletives and a suggested maneuver Zack would have found impossible even when he walked on two legs.

It did nothing to deter Zack’s laughter.

Chapter Text

Roughly two weeks passed since Tifa and Cloud’s misadventure, and Cloud’s injuries were healing nicely, courtesy of home visits from Brigid Glannis and the mako in his system, along with Elle and Zack’s persistent insistence of Cloud staying in bed for all but the most necessary of tasks.

Currently, Cloud sat resting on their small couch, Zack lying on the floor next to him. The blond stretched his legs carefully, rotating his feet to ease the small ache in his ankles. Cloud frowned. He never thought he would miss all the enhancements, but he’d come to the conclusion that he held no patience for being a patient.

“Anyone who knows you could have told you that,” snorted Zack, not bothering to lift his head from where it rested comfortably on his bear-like paws.

Cloud flipped Zack a mental bird, since a literal one wouldn’t be seen.

“You’re getting far too good at that,” the wolf replied disdainfully, responding with a mental image of his formerly-human-self crossing his arms disapprovingly.

“It’s not like I had anything better to do this last week,” Cloud sighed, dropping his head back against the couch cushion, “Elementary-level schoolwork and reading can only distract me for so long.”

“That’s fair. I hate being bored. Did I ever tell you about the time I shifted everything in Sephiroth’s office two inches to the right?” asked Zack, picking up his head to turn and look at the boy on the couch, deep blue eyes shining with feigned innocence.

Cloud, having just taken a drink from the glass of water that always seemed to magically appear every hour, choked. Simultaneously coughing and laughing, Cloud tried to wipe away the water that spilled down his chin to land in his lap, Zack snickering loudly in the back of his mind.

“Cloud? Are you alright?” called Elle, peering out from the kitchen.

“I’m fine!” the blond called back in between coughs, “Water went down the wrong way.”

“That’s what she said,” Zack smirked.

Cloud coughed again, turning a sharp glare at the growing wolf.

“Really? What are you, twelve?” the nine year old asked sarcastically.

“Technically, I’m not even one,” the wolf grinned, tongue lolling out of his mouth and canines glinting in the dim light.

Laughter abruptly chorused from the kitchen, Elle and Brigid’s voices mingling into one. Cloud and Zack straightened, turning to regard the two women visible through the kitchen’s wide doorway.

“I have some concerns,” thought Cloud, eyeing his mother and the Devil Lady as they chatted over cups of tea and fresh-baked scones (courtesy of Brigid herself).

“Why’s that?” asked Zack curiously, turning his furry head to regard the not-child.

“She is far too perceptive. I’m almost positive she’s aware I’ve got mako in my system,” Cloud thought, outwardly returning his focus to the small stretches Glannis recommended he do, “And she’s just… weird,” he added, “She reminds me of a more powerful, sneaky Aerith.”

Zack’s head perked up, head tilting and ears flicking at the notion, “You’re right,” he replied after a pause of consideration, “Weird. Was she like this in your first go-round?” the former Soldier asked, watching as Cloud carefully began stretching his arms and shoulders.

“Not that I recall,” responded Cloud, gaze distancing for a moment, “But I don’t remember interacting with her much before. And honestly, I’m not even sure she was here the first time…”

The notion silenced the both of them for a moment, both getting lost in thought.

“Do you think—?” started Zack, shock resonating through his voice.

“—She’s a Cetra?” finished Cloud, his own surprise mirroring Zack’s, “It’s possible, but I don’t know how. I wish I had access to a Shinra terminal. Then I could hack into the science department’s files and find out if there were any other than Aerith and her mother,” he mused.

“Vincent?” asked Zack with a grin, picking up on Cloud’s thought-trail.

“Vincent,” Cloud agreed.

The former Turk stared down at Cloud, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it look of quizzical confusion quirking an eyebrow before it smoothed out.

“You want me to hack into the science department’s files,” stated Vincent, clawed fingers tapping out a small rhythm against his folded arms from where he leaned against the Shinra library’s bookcase.

“Yes. Do you think you can?” asked Cloud, staring up at Vincent from his perch on the cluttered desk.

“Probably,” the man replied, his mind already making plans and strategies for infiltrating Shinra. He hesitated a moment before speaking again, “If I come across any extraneous information about you? …Or your family?”

Cloud looked away. It had been a tough pill to swallow, being related to the bastards who caused everything, but in the end…

“It’s better to be armed with whatever knowledge can be found,” stated Cloud, looking up at Vincent. “You realized before, didn’t you? After you came back.”

Vincent gave a slow nod, his dark hair swaying forward with the movement.

“How?” asked Cloud curiously, wondering what he’d missed all those years ago.

Vincent regarded the child for a long moment before shifting his stance and stepping closer to the blond, reaching out slowly to tug lightly on a strand of Cloud’s hair.

“My hair?” asked Cloud incredulously, staring up at Vincent with a frown.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, blond hair isn’t particularly common, let alone the pale blond you and your mother share. I saw the President and his son Rufus at a ceremony while in Midgar and noticed a few similarities between your mother and the president. You share some similarities with Rufus.”

Cloud paled and scrubbed a rough hand through his hair, looking distinctly nauseous.

“I— I look like Rufus?” he murmured, “Is it noticeable to others, do you think?” asked Cloud, directing the worried question to Vincent.

Vincent studied Cloud for a long moment.

“With how quiet you are and your personality, I don’t think most would make the connection,” he stated, “Though I imagine you’re going to draw attention whether you wish to or not,” Vincent smirked.  

Cloud made a face, but didn’t comment. Zack trotted into the library and paused, cocking his head and glancing between the two.

“Did I interrupt?” he asked.

“Apparently there is a familial resemblance between Rufus and I,” deadpanned Cloud, speaking aloud for Vincent’s benefit.

Zack stared at Cloud for a long moment.

“It’s gotta be the hair, right? Not exactly a common shade of blond,” he pointed out.

Vincent gave a soft snort of amusement and Cloud glared at the former Turk.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy. Hindsight is 20/20,” reassured Zack.

“So is a shotgun,” Cloud fired back, switching his glare to Zack.

“Touchy, touchy,” the wolf muttered, seating himself next to Vincent.

Once his wolf senses got accustomed to the energy and danger that rolled off the ex-Turk in waves, Zack quickly decided he quite liked Vincent. In a strange way, the former Soldier was often reminded of Sephiroth before the man became influenced by Jenova.

And he especially liked that Cloud had another friend, one willing to protect him, tease him, and watch out for him (and call BS when Cloud got “cloudy”). Vincent’s calm, thoughtful presence worked in counterpoint to Zack’s somewhat hyper optimism.

“Between the two of us, we can make sure he doesn’t get himself killed,” Zack thought privately, watching his best friend’s face morph from annoyed to thoughtful as he continued to speak with Vincent, the two talking infiltration strategies.

“I’m ninety percent sure that this will work,” stated Cloud, frowning down at the blueprint atop the desk (which Vincent miraculously pulled from within his cloak), “You’ll have to sort out the hacking aspect yourself. It’s been a while since I infiltrated their servers.”

Vincent took the large piece of paper and quickly folded it, tucking the paper into his pocket. He turned and immediately headed for the door.

“I’ll return in a week’s time,” the man said, turning to glance at the boy and the wolf briefly before vacating the room, vanishing into the shadows outside the door.

“How does he do that?” griped Zack, envious; even his animal senses ,heightened by mako as they were, couldn’t track the former Turk’s presence.

“He’s Vincent,” stated Cloud, as if that explained everything.

In a way, it did.

“What now? I thought you didn’t want to know more about Brigid?” Zack asked.

Cloud sighed.

“I don’t, really. But if there’s a chance that she’s a Cetra, I think Aerith deserves to know. Both of them do. No one likes to be truly alone…”

Zack’s eyes softened, regarding his friend (his brother), and trotting over to gently bump Cloud’s dangling legs.

“You’re always thinking about everyone else. Dumbass.”

“You do it, too, Mr. Hero.”

Zack rather wished he could smack Cloud upside the head.

Tifa stared out her window, a deep frown marring her pretty face. Like Cloud, she’d been confined to rest and to heal. However, she’d been fully healed for over a week, and her father still wasn’t letting her outside. Frustration mounting, she grabbed her pillow and threw it across the room with a yell, eyes sparking before landing on the pile of bedsheets and blankets pooled on the floor.

“If he won’t let me out…” she thought, a slow grin spreading across her face as she eyed the sheets and then her window.

She’d just have to do something about that.

Cloud’s training had resumed, under both Zangan and Zack’s watchful eyes. Cloud moved through Zangan’s forms, slowly and smoothly, taking care that each movement was correct. His muscles were still prone to cramping, but improvement came quickly each day, Zack consistently prodding him with water and protein, and occasionally calling out corrections to his form.

Tifa had yet to rejoin him. According to whispers around the village, the mayor’s protectiveness had reached new heights. Cloud and Zack were worried, but there was nothing they could do that wouldn’t make things worse while bringing the mayor’s attention shooting back to Cloud.

Finishing the last form, the boy finally dropped, exhausted. His shirt clung to his skin, the sweat annoyingly damp and sticky. He reached up and tugged the fabric away for a moment in an attempt to let the morning air cool and dry his skin. He closed his eyes, breathing in the soft wind that danced around him. He could hear Zack’s breathing a few meters away, Zangan having retreated to his home a short while ago to let Cloud rest.

A waterfall of smooth brown hair spilled into Cloud’s face, tickling his nose and startling his eyes open. Tifa’s impish brown eyes sparkled as she grinned down at him, looking entirely too pleased with herself. Cloud rolled his eyes and sat up with a light groan before returning Tifa’s smile.

“I thought your dad had you on lockdown,” he commented, watching with amusement as Tifa plopped down onto the grassy patch next to him.

“I climbed out the window,” she said airily, her warm amber eyes almost glowing in the late afternoon sun.

“Isn’t your room on the second floor?” asked Cloud, raising an eyebrow at the girl.

“So? I just tied some sheets together,” she smiled, unrepentant at Cloud’s unimpressed stare.

“Please tell me you didn’t use a standard knot…”

“What’s a standard knot?” asked Tifa.

“The difference between a successful escape and breaking your neck,” he deadpanned, giving Tifa what she privately called “The Disappointed Dad Tilt” where Cloud tilted his head down in just such a way to make her feel a little guilty for being impetuous.

Tifa pouted and looked away. She’d been hoping Cloud would compliment her and say she’d done well, and that he was glad to see her. Noticing the downcast expression, Cloud sighed and gave a rueful smile, reaching up and ruffling Tifa’s hair into disarray. Before she could yell at him, he plucked a decently long blade of grass and spoke, fingers working the piece of grass into a simple knot.

“Let me show you the different knots and what they’re used for,” he said simply.

Tifa watched with avid interest, successfully distracted by Cloud’s nimble fingers and quiet, patient voice.

A few meters away, Zack cracked open an eye and let out a satisfied yawn, watching Cloud teach a happy Tifa.

“All’s well, right, Aerith?” he thought, closing his eyes and letting the children’s voices lull him back into his nap.

The days went by, slow and peaceful and mercifully quiet. Vincent’s return after the week was out heralded no new information, neither on Cloud nor Brigid. Cloud couldn’t decide if he should be thankful about the lack of information or not, but he put the matter from his mind and focused on Zangan’s training while attempting to convince Vincent to train with him, too.

Tifa continued to slip out from under her father’s nose to hang out and train with Cloud, and Cloud continued to teach her safer methods of sneaking, along with any other useful tidbits he could think of; he wanted her as prepared as she could be. The girl took to it with enthusiasm, diving head first into everything Cloud showed her. He suspected part of her fervor came from a desperate need to be distracted and an almost equal need to defy her father.

In the middle of one such session (Zangan having already dismissed them), the boy, the girl, and the wolf meandered through the outskirts of Nibelheim at the tree line. Zack kept pace with them while checking for the scent of monsters a few meters into the trees and scrub.

“So, what should I do if I encounter a monster?” asked Tifa, frowning in thought, “You and Master Zangan have taught me people and weapons, but not monsters. What happens if I run into one?”

“That depends on the monster,” Cloud replied simply, “A lot of the smaller monsters you might run into out here are quite aggressive and difficult to deal with if you don’t have a weapon.” The boy paused to consider, taking into account Tifa’s current age and skill level, “If you ran into one now, I’d say you should run. You’re fast enough to outrun the small ones. A fighting retreat until you get help is also a viable option, if not necessary with some of the bigger ones.”

Tifa gave a thoughtful hum and looked out to the trees. Despite the bright sun, she couldn’t tell where Zack was, the growing wolf managing to stay silent and out of sight. She smiled. Life had become more exciting since she and Cloud became friends.

“I like it,” thought Tifa, her smile turning into a grin as she looked over at Cloud, “He doesn’t treat me like I’m a glass flower.”

Noticing Tifa’s stare, Cloud gave her a curious glance.

“What?” he asked, side-stepping a clump of muddy snow.

“Nothing~” grinned Tifa, her voice a teasing sing-song cadence as she skipped ahead, nimbly dodging mud and pockets of dirty snow in her brown leather boots. She stopped abruptly. “Cloud, look!” she called excitedly, pointing to something on the ground just ahead and to the side.

Cloud hurried his steps slightly, though maintained his careful avoidance of snow and slush; his boots were wearing out badly, the seam around his heel torn and letting in an uncomfortable amount of cold and damp. He couldn’t bring himself to mention it to Elle, not wanting to disrupt their current finances.

“What have you found, Tifa?” he asked, stopping next to her.

The girl dropped into a graceful crouch and pointed at a melting patch of thinning snow, “Snowdrops! Spring is officially in Nibelheim,” she said, smiling gently and reaching out a soft hand to touch the pure white petals.

“Oh,” Cloud replied quietly, also dropping into a crouch to observe the small flower.

“It’s beautiful,” said Tifa, brown eyes a little sad.

“It is,” Cloud agreed, pretending not to notice the tears gathering in her eyes. “Would you like to pick a few? There’s more over there,” he added quietly, nodding to an area further ahead.

“I’d like that. I can put them on Mom’s grave. She… She loved snowdrops,” she said, giving a quiet sniffle and wiping at her eyes.

“Ah,” thought Cloud, his chest tightening. He reached over and wrapped an arm around Tifa’s shoulders. “I’m sure she’d like that,” he replied softly, “I bet my mom would be willing to make it into a bouquet for you. She just bought some blue and green ribbon yesterday,” he continued, giving Tifa a small smile when she looked at him.

“Okay,” she said, once again scrubbing the tears from her eyes.

She stood up, a determined set to her mouth. Cloud stood as well, and reached out to ruffle Tifa’s hair.

“Hey!” she cried, glowering at Cloud for a moment before sending a fast kick into Cloud’s calf.

Cloud let out an undignified yelp of pain, giving an exaggerated wince and hopping on one foot for a moment. Tifa gave him an imperious look and promptly broke into a fit of giggles.

The mood lightened a little, Cloud and Tifa began quietly picking flowers. After a few minutes, Tifa let out a small sound of dismay.

“What’s wrong?” asked Cloud, looking up from where he’d carefully snapped a stem near its base, long ago lessons with Aerith on the proper way to pick flowers trickling to the forefront of his memories to prove their use.

“I crushed the stem,” Tifa replied, looking dejectedly at the mildly crumpled flower.

Cloud blinked and thought for a moment before reaching into his boot, pulling out the small, well-used pocket knife he kept there. “Use this,” he replied, holding out the blade, handle first.

“Thanks, Cloud,” she said gratefully, taking the knife and placing the crumpled flower off to the side, away from their growing pile of snowdrops.

Minutes ticked by in comfortable silence, and the flower piles grew. Cloud looked between the two piles, noting that they probably only needed a few more blooms. Distant shouts and laughter caught his attention, but he opted to ignore it, Tifa’s bouquet more important than the raucousness of approaching children. A small pristine snowdrop grew from a clump of melting snow a few meters away, its heavy blossoms peering up to glimpse the intermittent sunlight.

“Tifa,” Cloud called, “Last one?” he asked, gesturing at the small flower.

Tifa looked up, knife in hand and turned in the direction Cloud indicated. She eyed it for a moment before smiling.

“That will do nicely!” she said, standing from her crouch and walking over.

While Tifa carefully cut the flower free of the ground, Cloud stood and stretched, raising his arms above his head towards the graying sky and feeling his joints pop.

“Wonder if I’m growing?” he thought idly, rolling his shoulders and feeling his bones resettle in their sockets.

Laughter and shouting reached his ears and Cloud turned, a frown settling on his lips when he spotted the usual crew of troublemakers, spear-headed by Kelle and followed by Shan, Flynn, Darin, and a few other children looking for entertainment. Mikael was nowhere to be seen, Shan likely having done something to keep his brother otherwise occupied.

“This can’t be good,” thought Cloud, more annoyed than concerned.

Kelle’s eyes locked onto Cloud with vindictive delight, and he promptly nudged Shan, who nudged Flynn and Darin. Multiple gazes landed on Cloud who let out a resigned sigh and looked to Tifa and the collected bouquet.

“Tifa, can you go wait at my house? Or Zangan’s?” he asked quietly, not taking his eyes off the approaching group of children.

“No,” denied Tifa, shaking her head emphatically and stepping forward to stand on Cloud’s left, flowers clutched gently in her hand. “What do you all want?” she called out, brown eyes glaring fiercely at the group of children.

“We want him,” Kelle responded simply, pointing at Cloud, eyes narrowed and lips twisted with dislike.

“Why?” Tifa demanded, “He’s never done anything to you, or anyone else!”

“You won’t understand, Tifa. You’re too kind to understand,” Daran tried to explain.

Tifa responded with an expletive that shocked the group of children into silence, eyes wide. Cloud hid a grin, wondering where Tifa had learned that particular invective.

“I understand just fine,” Tifa continued angrily, glaring at the silenced group, “You’re bullying him for no other reason than you’re bored and that Cloud is different from you all. He doesn’t follow your lead just ‘cause you’re bigger or older or more popular. And you can’t stand it!”

Kelle frowned and glared down at Tifa, stepping forward in an unconscious move to intimidate the eight year old. Cloud’s eyes narrowed and he shifted his balance, wanting to be ready in case Kelle tried to hurt Tifa (Tifa was learning well, but she’d never been in a real fight, let alone against a boy five years older).

Shan, Darin, and Flynn watched the stand-off warily, the three of them uncomfortable with Kelle towering over the village princess. A long, echoing howl broke the glaring contest between Tifa and Kelle, everyone’s collective gaze shifting to the trees where the howl emanated from.

Kelle strained his eyes, trying to find the wolf he knew was never far behind the blond irritant. The first few sweeps of his gaze yielded nothing, but on a return pass, he flinched, taking an involuntary step back.

A pair of glowing, blue-green eyes shone from within the trees, the animalistic  eyeshine and unmistakable mako glow eerie in the still, semi-darkness of the forest. Kelle blinked again and squinted, the rest of the wolf’s body slowly coming into focus now that he knew where to look.

Kelle stared and the wolf didn’t move, still in a way that felt predatory and threatening despite the stillness. Eyes bright with a vaguely human intelligence had Kelle unconsciously stepping back once more.

“Kelle, are you okay?” called Shan cautiously, gray eyes flicking between Tifa, Cloud, the wolf, and his friend.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine,” Kelle dragged his gaze away from the wolf, his brown eyes unintentionally meeting Cloud’s blue.

Cloud locked Kelle’s gaze with his own, his head tilting in something of a challenge and a question. The thirteen year old’s face twisted, a mixture of anger, shame, and hatred scrawled over the boy’s features before he turned sharply, back stiff as he stalked away, not bothering to answer Shan’s worried questions. Darin and the other’s followed after, unsure exactly what had transpired and why Kelle was walking away.

Flynn also started to follow, but he paused and turned back, meeting Cloud’s calm gaze and Tifa’s glare. The nine year old frowned slightly in thought before a half-grin quirked his lips after a moment. Flynn’s hand lifted in a mock salute at Cloud, who gave a slight smile back, somehow feeling reminded of Reno, and a wink at Tifa. The girl shook her head, somewhat confused by the whole exchange as she and Cloud watched Flynn run off after the others.

Cloud and Tifa stood there for a moment, Zack padding over to join them with near-silent paws.

“So… That was weird, right?” said Tifa, the bouquet in her hands dangling, mostly forgotten.

Cloud nodded, wondering inwardly if perhaps he and Flynn had managed to form an understanding.

“Definitely weird,” agreed Zack, “What is that Kelle kid’s issue with you, Cloud? Do you know?” 

“No. Feels like he has a personal vendetta for some reason, though,” Cloud replied silently.

“Should I try to find out?” Zack asked, head turning to look at Cloud.

“Not a bad idea. I can listen around, too,” the blond agreed, reaching over to ruffle the fur on top of Zack’s head, his fingers naturally shifting to scratch behind Zack’s ears. “Shall we head to my house for that ribbon?” Cloud asked, turning to Tifa.

“Sounds good,” she grinned, also reaching out to join in giving Zack head scratches.

“Let’s get going then, before Kelle changes his mind and comes back.”

“Race you!” called Tifa, shooting forward in a dead sprint, boots carelessly splashing through a puddle and splattering Cloud and Zack with water.

The boy and the wolf yelped, the cold and slightly muddy water splattering their faces.

“Cheater!” yelled Cloud through a laugh, responding automatically to the challenge, his own boots pounding after Tifa, though avoiding the puddles himself.

Zack shook himself with a yip of amusement, droplets of water spraying in all directions before he, too, took off after the children.

 Mayor Lockheart stood in his upstairs bedroom, staring out the window pensively as he watched the main road that passed through Nibelheim, eyes vacant as his thoughts churned with anxiety.

“He noticed. That whore’s son noticed, I’m sure he did…” the man thought, chewing his thumbnail as the memory of the night Tifa returned on the boy’s back replayed itself over and over in his mind, the boy’s blue eyes widening with realization just before his fist crashed into the child’s face.

“I need to speak with him,” Lockheart realized, “I need to know for sure, and then I need to make sure he never speaks of it… Not that anyone would believe him, of course. But it pays to be sure.”

He turned away from the window, tucking his hands behind his back as he paced out of the room, inevitably arriving at the top of the stairs, just as he’d done ever since his wife died. He stared down them with a deep sense of numbness, his guilt masked behind layers of excuses and vindications.  

“Yes. I need to be sure. And eventually, the boy will leave town. One way or another…” he muttered, brown eyes lifting away from the stairs, “Yes. Somehow, he will leave in the next few years. I’ll make sure of it.”

Mayor Lockheart breathed deep, shoulders set, and returned to his office, the empty staircase forgotten for the moment.