Getting Lost on the Road of Life... "And it's not a cry that you hear at night And it's not somebody who's seen the light It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah..." -Jeff Buckley- ------------------------------------ "It doesn't look like a week on the map!" Yuffie wailed, holding it upside down for the curious reason that perhaps the distance would magically shorten between here and there, "And worse, it's been a week already, this is what we get for letting Barrett read it!" "I read I fine, foo', you're the one with no direction." "I'm a Ninja! I have plenty of direction, you just don't know north from south from your neighbour's backyard!" "Come closer and say that, shrimp." "Fine, only because you ASKED FOR MY SHURIKEN UP YOUR ASS!" Vincent, a quiet spectator in the wonderful world of sport which had fast become ‘Yuffie vs Barrett – insult slinging matches of the century!' just lifted a cool, corporate eyebrow and said: "Arguing gets you nowhere." Tifa covered her face and groaned, "It always starts this way, and soon we'll have to listen to their fighting all night if Vincent can't separate them." They were, as Yuffie had stated so acrimoniously, lost. Beyond lost, would have been a closer assumption and no amount of blame shifting would change the fact that they were lost somewhere around the bottom of the Nibel Mountains. For the past week they had followed the directions of the map and seemed to have turned in a circle and then like an arrow, they had come northward to the mountain feet. This was leaving them in a situation that gave pause for grave thinking. Their food supply could only be sustained by local wildlife for so long – certain necessities were running low besides those of a food nature, and Tifa was sick and tired of finding a stream that was chillier than Vincent's sense of humour to bathe in. Aerith didn't seem to be entirely too bothered by the situation, sitting away from the rest on them on a crop of the mountain rocks and peering far away into the distance with a hand raised to shade her brilliant eyes, her mouth resting in a hint of a smile as she hummed along to songs Tifa only knew from eavesdropping shamelessly. This past week had seen Aerith wake three times in the night, shaking with fear and sweat dripping off her. Nothing that the fist fighter had said had calmed the fluttery heart of the Ancient, no kisses or touches soothed away the shakes and when she lay down, her eyes were wide and staring, looking somewhere far, far away. Cloud, seated at the bottom pile of rocks had his head tilted so he in turn, like Tifa, was looking at the Ancient who smiled and hummed. The dark thorn of jealous wheedled its way into her heart a little deeper every time she saw him looking at her. It was ridiculous; Tifa knew that, she should be secure in the fact that the object of her affections hadn't rejected her outright. But the again... neither had she voiced those three little words that she coveted so dearly. Sometimes, when she watched Aerith staring in the dark of the tent, trying to piece back together the reality she should belong to, Tifa wondered if those words would ever be said. It was like catching stars: a hopeful dream she clung onto. Of course, she'd made all kinds of outrageous promises too, like trying to fill the life of the Ancient with romance. Romance! What did she know about wooing another woman, apart from what she knew she liked herself, and that which she had read in novels when growing up, novels of love and steamy heady affairs! The shouting was finally abating after reaching a screeching fever pitch and she looked back to see the reason why: Vincent had simply transformed into a thing (there was no name for it officially, as he reliably had informed the shaken group after the first change over) of purple skin and spiked orange hair and was stood between the two arguers. They were both eyeing him warily, Yuffie going so far as to choke on the words of an apology. That was better – some peace and quiet at last would do their group some good. After a brief chat over the map, they agreed to let Vincent do the map reading and send Red ahead scouting, because his nose seemed far more accurate than any of their guesses had been to date. After a cold meal of last nights kill-on-the-hoof which again, had been provided by the very versatile fire wolf, they all crammed back into the car and for a moment, Tifa was glad that she was in the back with both the other girls in the company, Cloud and Barrett almost silent together in the front with Cait and Vincent poring over the map one seat ahead. Sometime in the afternoon, she moved the snoring Yuffie so her shoulder wasn't going dead and tilted her head to try and see what it was that the Ancient was staring at. But she never once said, and even when Tifa tried to talk to her, she was silent like the grave, eyes distant. Until they were around the campfire, significantly closer to the amazing town in the northern plains when she spoke suddenly, startling everyone, even Vincent who was normally so taciturn. She said, "It won't be long now." Her voice sounded heartbroken. Tifa didn't know what she meant and that night, like those nights when she didn't wake crying, she slept like the dead themselves. ------------------------------------------ It won't be long now. The words haunted her that next week. She tossed their meaning around in her head, trying to figure out what it was that the sometimes reluctant flower merchant had meant by that cryptic sentence and just what an effect it could have on her life. But Tifa was no philosopher, nor versed in theological debate or debate of any kind really. So with practical reasoning, she put it aside and let the answer come when it would. Instead, Aerith seemed to try and cheer herself up more than anything. The week on the road towards the town was spent with many surprise gifts left for the martial artist, in the forms of flower wreaths and daisy chains, little kisses when no one was watching and even at one time, she pushed Tifa into a lake of water and stood on the shore, laughing. When Tifa had angrily asked why she had done that, all the answers had been delivered with a quick look down. She still blushed, thinking about her poor shirt and the fact she was forced to wear Aerith's smaller jacket to cover the exposure of her skin through the wet and transparent material. So Tifa reciprocated as best as she could, trying out her magic to create butterflies of fire to entertain the girl, but that had been quickly abandoned after it set Cloud's hair afire briefly, much to varied hoots and shouts anywhere and somewhere between derision and anger. She made Aerith's food extra special as she could make it, in fact, always ensured she cooked robust meals for the girl as her health seemed to suffer after so long on the road. She spent evenings watching the sunset and talking about the poems she loved that she had read and memorised, as if only ever for Aerith. So on the evening approaching the town which they finally saw the monstrous structure of the Rocket that defined the northern border town, with the dilapidated machinery and structures that tried hard to hold the rocket in place from falling over and crushing the buildings and lives underneath it, that it came only as a small surprise that Aerith requested that they go walking together, under the spread of the night. They walked close without touching, for Tifa could sense that for this night alone, Aerith was never more beyond her crippled grasp of fingers and hands stained deeply with blood. She walked with inhuman grace that with a heavy heart, the fighter knew she could never match; those brilliant eyes fixed high on the distant stars and with bent ear she listened to the voice of the Ancient speak. "Tifa, I wanted to talk... kinda seriously, for a moment." She smiled, looking down at her despite her head tilted backwards a little. It was this smile which made her heart jump ten beats and flutter madly in the cage of her ribs, her blood running hot and cool all at the same time so she didn't know if she should coolly try and ask why or stay tongue tied, hoping... dreading the best, or the worst. "You know I'm always here to talk to." "I was thinking, we've come a very long way since Midgar. It's been almost three months now." Tifa frowned and counted. True enough, they were hurtling towards the Christmas time, the seasons messing themselves all together no matter where they went so that she had lost track of time. "You're right." "Three months, and I've come so far." She twirled, skirt flaring, "And so far to go. I was a bit scared of you, to start with." "Me?" Tifa blinked. "Of course. You're all practical, business like. You know where to go, what to do, how to plan. You're organised, I guess you have to be though, running a bar." "Running a bar isn't just keeping things organised," she smiled. "You have to remember drink mixes so you don't look a fool in front of customers, leafing through cocktail cards in secret under the counter top. You have to know how to deal with drunks or loudmouth idiots or people who want to start a bar brawl. Brawl? Fair enough, do it outside because repairing the bar costs too much gil!" Aerith laughed, silver, shivering laugh like stars falling, "So you know how to take care of yourself. But really, it worried me. I'm not... I mean, I'm rather weak." "Not everyone has the same strengths. You do things with materia that make me so jealous! I can't even heal a bruise well enough." Tifa tucked her arms behind her head as she walked in the grass, trying to fight the blush from her face as she was overly conscious that her breasts were, to put it bluntly, sticking out. But it was Aerith, after all, and she knew the Ancient ached for someone to act normal around her. "Don't give up on what you can do. Okay?" "I know, Teef." There was a breathless silence and Tifa risked a sidelong glance, trying to gauge the moment, but before anything could be added, the beautiful cetra continued to speak in her same calm, warm tone - it melted everything inside of her, made her feel so accepted and wanted that not for the first time, Tifa's heart fluttered restlessly. "Tifa... I've been meaning to ask..." Oh my god. Tifa swallowed hard, eyeing her as surreptitiously from the side as she could. A little voice in her ear taunted that Aerith should see the sweat rolling off her! "...How did Zack look?" Oh... Her heart hit the bump in the road and withered out like a flat tyre; so she sighed and kicked at a clump of dirt, "Zack? He was alright. Lively I guess." "If he was hurt then..." "Probably. I don't remember, I passed out quickly afterward from blood loss myself. Sorry." "That's right, you have that scar..." Her hand caressed her breastbone, colour brightening her alabaster skin as she realised another set of fingers was reaching over to innocently trace the same line of scarring that puckered her flesh in memory of that day. The touch was so light that she was shivering by the time that the hand was removed. "Aerith," she said in a strangled voice. "Sorry," then the Ancient was blushing too, putting a hand to her necklace and moving away, "I just wanted to touch it. I wanted to..." Wanted to what? "You're getting more mysterious by the day," Tifa laughed, a strained laugh, strained through the sieve of her estranged emotions. "But that's okay, its part of who you are, how it all works and fits together, you know?" "Tifa," The back was to her, the head tilted and once again studying the constellations. "One day, they'll name stars in the sky for us. They'll remember everything we fought hard for, you know? We'll be heroes! They'll make action figures, they'll paint pictures and tourist traps of everywhere we went, or stopped and slept. And that day, we'll look back and think, 'what a wonderful life', right?" "Of course we will." "Sephiroth... it was so strange. I felt like something in me had changed since that time at Costa del Sol, on the boat. I'm not a frightened girl anymore. I have to take responsibility. I have to because... because..." "Rissy, you have become stronger." Tifa murmured, coming up behind the fragile girl to place her arms about her without hesitation and in doing so, clasped her closely. "Inside, where no one can see unless you let them in." "I have?" "I would place my life in your hands, without second thoughts, love." "Teef..." They remained there, Tifa trying to bury her heavy heart in the scent of Aerith's hair, the scent of summer mornings and flowers which always seemed to linger around the green fingered gardener; Aerith in turn staring at the far distant stars with her head still tilted but the telltale steal of her hand to clasp one of Tifa's was hard and tight, even for such a weak strength that the fighter lifted her brows in surprise. She knew that there were more things that the Ancient was trying to find the words to say, but none of those words would fit together right just yet. But when the night grew cold and Tifa turned to go, she paused briefly to eye the figure of the girl, still stood stock still against the chill wind, jacket and dress rippling and her eyes fixed on the distant skies, and she could swear she heard her murmur, "Not long at all really..." ------------------------------------------ They made the town the next day, much to Aerith's squeals of delight, running ahead of them all and tilting her head in childlike glee at the massive monolith that was an old rocket, tilted to the back of the town which had no doubt, sprung up around it some time distant. The logo, even at this distance it was readable as ShinRa, indicated that it was their property. She paused in her examination of this strange wonder to lower her gaze and look back to where Tifa, having also spotted the logo, was scowling darkly. She felt a little sick, to be honest with herself and the Planet. Last night, all she did was worry and worry: hadn't she said that she was alright with all the consequences that might happen? But looking back at the drawn face of Tifa, the sometimes panicked expression of Cloud when she stared into the distance, even the frankly worried look on the face of Barrett, she knew that she wasn't ready yet. It wasn't time just yet. Are you worried? I am, very worried. I can't help it, Planet. I can't help my human failings or strengths as I would consider them. Strengths, child. You combine all that is good of two races. Child, child... when will I be an adult? I have a name too... You are a child yet, until otherwise proven. Do not worry; the time is some way distant yet. Do not fret; your battle is a simple one that only you may achieve. You already know that you must do it alone. I know but... Have fun - be aware though, the ones who pursue you are close. The ShinRa? ...Planet? Planet? Hello, hello? She gave an aggravated sigh and looked back to where Cloud was running a hand into his blond hair and grumbling away to himself, like some old man would: "A rusty old rocket, I wonder what they'd make something that big for." "Show. Clearly." Vincent's voice dripped sarcasm, without being raised a single wet note above bone dry. Red snorted as Cloud didn't even respond to what had been a purely rhetorical question on his part and started to amble into town. Without a word and a shrug of her shoulders, Aerith slipped in line, next to Vincent and Yuffie. "Not a fan of jokes, today. Wonder if he's grumpy ‘cause he slept on a rock." Yuffie muttered. "Yuffie, he's not grumpy." "Of course he isn't. Bears with sore teeth are more hospitable. Anyway," she lifted a hand, "I'm off to st-er-scout the area. Yes, scout it." Vincent coolly arched an eyebrow as the ninja vanished with a bare 'Aerith-sama' for the Cetra - not a glance sideways for anyone else mind. His red eyes travelled to her, as Tifa pulled up alongside. "Is she always this..." "Loud? Annoying? Bratty?" Tifa tried supplying helpfully. "..." "Guys, give her a break," the flower girl sighed, "Don't judge her; you don't even know her that well." "To err is human, to forgive... someone else's job," Vincent dustily murmured. Aerith threw her hands up in abject defeat and followed Cloud as he made a beeline for a house that looked as though half a scrap yard had decided to nestle in the back garden and around the front flower beds: pipes and propellers, even engine bits and tanks strewn all over. She eyed the vague thrusting try of flowers in the contaminated dirt as Tifa and Barrett, after a quick consultation with her, made for the shop to restock. Red and Vincent stopped by her. The flowers were a pale red with a faint bluish tinge towards the base of the petals and on the stamen. She reached out with a hand and murmured the threads of magic coming to her hands easily. The murmur, she didn't realise, sounded much like a soft, short melody to those listening - as much of the Cetra tongue tended to sound like to human ears, pitched differently for the Planet and singsong, to convey emotions clearly. The flowers and foliage responded to her encouraging caress of magic, from root to the tip of a leaf. They burst forth suddenly with new, stronger growth, flowers blooming in a sudden flourish of a colour and rage of pollen, sweet scents filling the air. She studied her handiwork, and then drew back with a pleased expression, catching the look of both Vincent and Red. "...what?" "You really are something," Red said, shaking his head and licking his muzzle, trying to dislodge the pollen gathered there. "You're always handing out." "They were struggling. I don't like to see things suffer," she replied, straightening the bow in her hair. "No one should have to suffer, not ever. If my magic helps even just a little, then I'll use it." "The magic though, you realise it is nothing like what Sephiroth lays claim to?" Her eyes flickered to Vincent, but his expression gave nothing away. As she tried to consider her answer, the door to the house was thrust open and Cloud came out, looking vexed. Vexed would be a mild word for those adept as she at reading his facial twitches that often accompanied outright irritation and anger. He ran a hand through his hair again, definitely agitated about something. It was a moment of silence later that he realised he was being stared at. "...There's a plane, but we need permission from some Captain guy." "And he is where?" Vincent, thankfully, had changed his focus to Cloud with the question and she brushed at her brow without thinking about it - he made her feel so strangely on edge! "He's in that rocket. It gets worse, ShinRa are coming here." "Oh," she said, voice running away with itself, "The Planet mentioned something about pursuers." "When!" "Not long ago... so they must be pretty close." "How come the Planet didn't warn us about the other times?" Aerith shook her head, all eyes on her, "I don't know. Sephiroth seems to fudge my connection with the Planet, like he's talking louder than I can and all he says is gibberish. That's the best as I can explain it. It seems to frighten the Planet, him talking over me." "It would make sense," Red concurred, at least someone was on her side. "Sephiroth and Jenova - the calamity from the skies. The virus that infected the people who had come to care for the world... it probably cries out with fear because it is afraid you will go too and it will have no one left to speak with. Even a Planet is allowed to be lonely." "...Does it really ever get lonely? More conjecture," Vincent rasped, "Besides. If ShinRa are coming here, lets go get the plane before they do." As a group of three they set off towards the rocket: Red, being of four legs, stayed behind. He had sharp eyes and could already see that a ladder was going to pose him problems on the way up, especially a metallic ladder. So in a knot together they walked; Cloud trying to ease his anger by talking to Aerith about what new materia she'd like to use and Vincent listening, nothing more. It grew to be companionable after ten minutes, even Vincent started to add his own advice to the melting pot of ideas behind the kind of materia that Aerith, as their main magic user, should consider using. It was so, that they approached the rocket and stood at the base, talking amongst themselves for a short while. Then, with hands on her hips, the flower girl demanded the men go up first so none of them would have any reason to peek up her skirt. Vincent said nothing and went up. Cloud followed, stammering and very, very red in the face. She noticed his hands shook as much as his voice. Giggling, Aerith followed the two up and to the platform, where hands of the ex-Turk helped her to her feet as Cloud seemed to be completely overcome by a ravaging fit of shyness. Then, with a gentle poke to his ribs that made him squeal, they knocked politely on the half open door into the rocket and went inside. "Hello?" Cloud called. A man in a strange outfit turned and fixed them all with a glare that could have been chiselled from blue ice. His features were strong, but with a faint rough, unfinished look to them. His jaw peppered with stubble that looked as though he was the sort to need to shave twice a day to look remotely tidy. Hair the colour of gold was spiked up and swept away by use of a set of pilot goggles where what looked to be a packet of cigarettes was jammed. His smile was cocky and sure enough, another 'smoke' hung out of his mouth, blowing smoke everywhere. He wore a pilot's outfit with a stitch where a logo had been ripped from one shoulder. "What're you guys doing in here?" He demanded. "We heard the Captain was here." He grinned and thumped his chest, "Captain? I'm the Captain! The name's Cid, though everyone just calls me Captain. What dya want?" Cloud glanced at them and Aerith leaned forward, suggesting gently, "Ask about the rocket? He seems pretty into it." "Alright," he shot back, and then cleared his throat to ask, "Tell me about this rocket?" He laughed, "Wow! Not bad for a kid. Alright then, I'll explain it to you. You know Shinra developed a lot of technological gadgets during the meaningless war, right?" They all nodded and he swept on, "Now it's a Mako company, but in the old days it was a weapons manufacturer. Well, they came up with a Rocket Engine. There was so much experiment about the thought of going into outer space. Our dreams got bigger and bigger. They put a major budget into it and made prototype after prototype!" He gestured at it, proudly, "Finally, they completed Shinra No. 26. They chose the best pilot in Shinra-- no, in the world-- me. I mean, come on. And finally we get to the day of the launch. Everything was goin' well... But, because of that dumb-ass Shera, the launch got messed up." He scowled and kicked the side of the rocket, "That's why they become so anal! And so, Shinra nixed their outer space exploration plans. After they told me how the future was Space Exploration and got my damn hopes up... DAMN THEM! Then, it was all over once they found out Mako energy was profitable. They didn't even so much as look at space exploration. Money, moola, dinero! My dream was just a financial number for them! Look at this rusted Rocket. I was supposed to be the first man in space with this. Everyday, it tilts a little bit more. At this rate, I don't know which will come first, this thing falling down or me gettin' outta here. My last hope is to talk to the President..." With a sigh, Cid turned from them and cupped his face over with a hand. Aerith tugged on Cloud's sleeve just as he opened his mouth, and then winced as he went right on: much like an inevitable stream just rolling downhill. Unstoppable. "Is Rufus coming?" Cid peered blearily over his shoulder, "Yeah, it must be the news about restarting the Space Programme. A young President, That's what we needed. He has dreams too, still!" Cloud looked like he had eaten something sour, Aerith glancing at Vincent who showed no emotion. She turned her face away because she honestly felt the same, and sorry for Cid, stuck here with his dreams all dust. Cloud continued: "Can we borrow the Tiny Bronco?" "What the fuck? You outta your mind? That's my most cherished possession; I can't let you take it." He shook his head and turned back to what he was working on. Cloud made to try and say something else, clearly unsatisfied with the answer but Vincent stepped in and hauled him away. Aerith followed the two, despite a formless growl of choked frustration from Cloud's throat. "Don't, Strife," suggested the cold man. "We need that plane." "It's alright Cloud," she soothed, along with Vincent, honey tones to his ice clad ones, "We'll figure something out. We always do, right?" Even so, she couldn't help that bite of despair either... --------------------------------------- Tifa came into the house, pocketing a materia slyly and then blinking at the sight of Aerith, Cloud, Red and Vincent all squashed around a table, staring at the figure of a fat man who jumped around the sink and a mousy looking woman in a lab coat. "Uh?" "Tifa, you took your time." Cloud muttered. "Come and have some tea." "It's really good," Aerith added, offering the very same cup she'd been drinking from, so sweetly that there was no way unless hell froze over and didn't inform her about it, that she could refuse. So she slid across and crouched down by Aerith's chair, taking the cup with numb fingers from the chill of winter. Sipping it - it was fantastic tea! - She peered at the fat man. Then with a fumble she almost dropped the cup, standing upright with a tea soaked hand and a throbbing pain on her thigh from where she scalded the skin in her haste. "That's ShinRa's Palmer," she hissed, rounding on Cloud. "What's he doing here?" "Restarting the space programme, supposedly." "Space programme? Oh, don't tell me. I'll find out eventually... but..." she paused, hearing a ruckus from the front and as one, Avalanche new and old, surged to the window, the other members coming out of the sitting room where they'd been playing cards to pass the time (Yuffie had been cheating Barrett from his money outrageously again, despite Cait's cheery warnings otherwise). Through the windows, they could see the figure of the pilot arguing with no one other than the 'strawberry blond' President Rufus. Ginger, Tifa candidly admitted, he was ginger in denial. She leaned close to the window, pressing on the nondescript curtains to try and hear what was being said between the two who argued so voraciously. "What the... you... got me all excited for nothing!" The pilot seemed beyond furious, his face escalating from red to purple. "Then what'd ya come here for!" Rufus flicked casually at his hair then studied his nails, eyeing the captain over them slyly, "I want to borrow the Tiny Bronco. We're going after Sephiroth. But seems like we've been going in the wrong direction. But now, we think we know where he's headed. But, we have to cross the ocean. That's why we want your plane..." This only served to make the Captain angrier and he spat, literally, spat a huge globule of something that Tifa most certainly didn't want to try and identify towards the President: "Fuck! First the Airship, then the Rocket, and now, the Tiny Bronco. Shinra took outer space away from me and now you want to take the sky away from me too!" "Oh my... You seem to forget it was because of Shinra, Inc. that you were able to fly in the first place." "What?" A touch on her shoulder made her turn around, to see the back door shutting. Shera was stood shyly behind them, leaving the raging of the two men outside to its own devices. The assistant, definitely mousy and completely shy in her posture, looked at them, and then seemed to settle on looking at Aerith, someone she likely deemed as the least threatening of their group - assured too by the sweet and warm smile that made people so attached to the girl. "Um... excuse me? You wanted to use the Tiny Bronco? I believe Palmer's going to take it... why don't you talk... ah!" Before she could finish, they were all hurrying out into the backyard where Palmer was stood before the plane, eyeing it up and tilting his head, jowls wobbling. Cait closed the door behind him, to try and shield Shera's eyes from any incipient violence. Tifa wished she could bundle Aerith inside to do the same - but knew such an action would be completely useless against an expert materia user... not to mention escape artist when faced with the Turks... Palmer was whining to himself in a tone that seemed to just set her teeth to grinding, as she checked the straps of her heavily armoured gauntlets, "Hmmm... why do I have to do this...? I'm the head of the Space Programme!" "We'll be taking that Tiny Bronco." Palmer turned slowly around, gulping slowly, his eyes as large as his belly in his face, showing white all around the iris. "I've seen you somewhere before... I know! The Shinra building! When the President was killed! Ulp! Se... se... security!" The gun moved from that jacket quicker than Tifa would have given it credit and the first blow took Barrett completely by surprise, knocking him backwards and out over the fence, white picket, which surrounded the large back yard. Everything seemed to flow together, her pulse picking up as it often did during any battle. Cloud charged in, swinging his sword wide, the fat man dancing aside with shocking nimbleness so he went slicing with a furrow through the ground and to the other side of him. This gave Tifa just enough opportunity to rush him from the easterly side, her foot ploughing into his back with force: this pushed him from his feet and over Red who barrelled into his legs. He went down with the resounding of a tonne of bricks. On the sidelines, quick as she could, Aerith murmured the words for the spell to protect them - a raised aura that glowed blue on her skin alerting her to the fact that the spell had taken hold on at least three of them. Palmer fired off several more shots. Tifa dodged two, but one struck Yuffie hard in the thigh. She screamed out in pain and went down, shuriken tumbling end over end to get in the way at least of another bullet that had been zinging through the air for Red. As the fire wolf yelped and dove from the way, Vincent swooped down, tucked Yuffie under an arm and dodged back from the fight whilst firing off three rounds of his own. Only one hit the dancing mark, in the vast expanse of his backside which he was mockingly flashing. Palmer yowled in agony and waved his hands. Tifa was thrown back by the wall of flame that made the ground under her feet hot suddenly and with a panic rising, she was suddenly unable to move. Fire... everywhere there was fire... It burned in her brain... She was lost. As she stumbled away, holding her chest, Barrett was up and firing back at Palmer, enough to throw him off balance for Aerith's hold spell to take effect. Cait rushed in, taking several bullet holes to his stuffed body and with a heavy hit, knocked Palmer back from his feet and into the oncoming thwack of Cloud's large sword, sending him flying onto the dirt path, gun knocked away from his hand and lying redundant. Dimly, she heard a screech of tyres and the sobbing of Yuffie as Vincent grated out the need for medical assistance. But as Aerith got close, she pointed in horror. "Look, its going!" Sure enough, the Tiny Bronco was stuttering along the ground with little hops, the propeller working just fine. Tifa gawked, the fear of the flames fading quickly as she flashed a glance to the others. Cloud, torn for a moment, snarled and yelled, "No time for medics, get on, everyone!" Tifa dashed to take a hold of Red, seeing as he didn't even have hands to help him onto the plane wing and with help from Cait's strength, they bundled the disgruntled fire wolf aboard. He promised many an evil death for such a careless act which had first left him in an undignified position on his back, sprawled helplessly. Tifa crawled up, as did Cloud who hurried made room for Yuffie and Vincent. Vincent, showing surprising knowledge - or perhaps not so surprising with knowledge of his past profession - took the pilot's seat and started to steer the aimless plane that was trying to mow down the fence. Aerith hurried across and with Barrett, they both grabbed onto the plane. Cait gave the flower girl a boost, and then hung his mostly weightless body on the tail. Then, before they knew it, it was away and going. It stuttered quite a few times, but when it was airborne, it was an experience that Tifa revelled in. She glanced across to where Aerith was and saw wonder etched into her glorious, shining features and with delight, smiled when she was graced with a smile in turn. Then, she was forced to grab onto the moulding as the plane veered sharply to the right. "Let's get that pilot," shouted Barrett. "..." The ex-Turk swung the plane around and it swooped down over the town; enough to see the ShinRa employees staring up and the face of the President, taut with tension and anger. The Pilot, Cid, was staring up with amusement and as the plane scooped past, Cloud reached down and grabbed his hand, hauling him on. But nothing is ever plane-sailing, Tifa thought, minding the pun... The shouts of the President caught the wind and she called for them to duck not one moment too soon as shots rang out all around them. They couldn't hit a barn door at ten paces, normally... but one soldier, on this one occasion, got very lucky and hit the tail of the plane. Tifa yelled out for Cait to try and douse the flames but they were falling, into the far distant water with the cries of emergency landing from Cid... Then they crashed into the water, and it all went dark. ------------------------------------- Water...? Water! She struggled violently: it felt as she would never breathe again, she would fall down, or maybe fly away and be lost. Be lost forever to the eyes of those she loved, the world she loved, the life she loved with a passion. She flailed at the water, trying to drag leaden limbs into the water when she cast her frightened eyes to the side and saw the equally leaden figure of Tifa sinking quickly. She was limp and her hair floated in a ghastly net. Teef! Teef, no! Struggling on, she would struggle on, like her beloved flowers: she would try. With awkward strokes and dying lungs, she caught the fingers of the fighter after a precarious few moments and turned her to see the slack, unmoving face of the fighter. She knew in that moment, that Tifa was drowning and would die if she didn't do anything. So she clasped the hand harder and pointed down below her, hoping her insane idea would work. Planet. Aid me! The wind was born. It had never been borne in the water before, the water was a stranger to its airy ways, but soon it bubbled, quickly bubbled up and up until it caught the two dying girls and with a great whoosh of air, ejected them to the surface, somewhere very close to the shore. With a gasp she couldn't contain, Aerith sucked air in greedily and glanced about wildly for any sign of the plane, but there was nothing, only purple-black water in the moonless night, the stars and the shore which she pulled the deadweight Tifa towards. After a hard slog, she pulled Tifa onto the shore and collapsed on her knees beside her. She isn't breathing. Like she had seen a man do at the beach at Costa del Sol, she leaned over the limp body of the fighter and pressed her ear to the still chest. Then unlike the man, she spun the magic from her curative materia as deftly as someone would write a poem, bake a cake, laugh... It was all the same as breathing to Aerith. Then, dripping hair and sniffles from the cold water aside, she leaned over and tilted Tifa's head back to clear the airway and with a slight breath, blew into her lungs whilst pressing her magic down above the breastbone. It seemed to take an eternity, and in all honesty, kissing Tifa to give her life wasn't all that much of a chore... not a chore at all, to be fair... Then Tifa was coughing and Aerith helped turn her on her side, rubbing encouragingly to get the water out of her lungs. With a deft flick of her hand, she summoned the will to burn fire in the very sand without fuel, sustaining it on her spirit alone and directed it so it rested close by the shivering, coughing martial artist. "Rissy?" Tifa cried weakly. And with a relived smile, she brushed hair from the pale face, "Right here." "Where is everyone else? Why do my lungs hurt?" The memory was fuzzy, but she knew the plane had crashed into the water, likely stunning the two girls - but the fear of drowning in the water from that dream had galvanised Aerith into waking action, whereas Tifa had just lay there limp. She related this in calm tones, adding, "Because you were dying." "Dying?" "Drowning... you weren't awake. The natural reflex is to breathe and when you've been stunned, instinct overrides reasonable thought. Your body doesn't tell you 'I might drown', you simply do the most natural thing and that is to breathe. I'm just glad I wasn't tired enough that I could swim and get you." Then Tifa was laughing, laughing in the way of someone gripped by hysterics. "My hero!" "Hero?" Aerith went a shade of red, "Stop teasing and get dry. I'm going to look for the plane, so stay here, alright?" "I'll go-" "No, you almost drowned." Aerith stood up, "For me, stay and rest, please?" The wine dark eyes pleaded silently, but she firmed her jaw in response until Tifa sighed and lay back down in the wet sand, arms above her head, "Fine. I can never win against you anyway. Love must mean learning to lose an argument once in a while. Don't be long..." "I won't be. I'll be back." She started down the line of the beach, hair whipping in the chill winds of the night and some way along, she glanced back at Tifa and her fire, the glow on the face of sorrow's beauty and her heart clenched helplessly, a spasm in her chest with inexplicable fear. And sadly, she touched her necklace and murmured as tears slid down her cheeks, "Its close. So it won't be long at all, Teef. Not long at all, really..." ...and weeping, like the haunted ghost, she wandered alone under the stars in search of others...
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