Clip The Wings Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated. Lamartine ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The crunch of bone was unmistakable. Fingers sought purchase but found nothing, slipping on the grate floor and leaving bloody smears behind in long trails, evidence of her passing, reminders that she was once there. Before she could sail over the edge into forever and down to the ground to join the final sleep, her back hit the safety rails installed to prevent such accidents from happening. Blurry figures fought back and forth, whipping swords and nightsticks, the ting of bullets hitting the air and she lay there dully, watching it all. The bomb attached to the console flashed the LCD numbers one after another and in her mind she placed a tick-tick-tick noise to it. She felt like screaming and venting her frustration. She'd trained so long and she was lying here, paralysed and useless, just watching them beat away at each other like demented puppets on show for a delighted audience with a mental age of ten and under. Her dark hair fanned out, almost escaping the tied bobble she used to rein it in. Shakily, Tifa put her hands on the floor and tried to ignore the vicious sting of the magic and her own torn muscles. She had to get up and she had to get to her feet, otherwise all she would have done is laid there, broken. Useless. She wobbled a bit, uncertainly, hair falling in the front of her face as sweat rolled down her cheeks. Insults were being exchanged in the air about her, but only the dull ‘tick, tick, tick' of the clock in her heart kept on going, kept on pushing and striving. Hadn't she once sworn to be a master of the open palm? Hadn't Tifa Lockhart sworn she'd never be just someone second rate, easily pushed aside and forgotten about by everyone else? Hadn't she sworn her own vengeance in blood? "...It's time," rasped Reno, clutching his side. She snapped her gaze up, looking to where the Turk staggered back. His unkempt shirt hung out and his clothes were torn on the knees of his regulation trousers and jacket arms. His hair, which was the colour of blood itself, was coming free about his glasses pushed up stylishly, and even the red tattoos on his face were strained with the effort of standing. Blood dripped from where his hand was pressed to his side. She froze, staring at the wound. ...Sephiroth did this to you...didn't he? Then the Turk was turning, running away in a skelter fashion, hither and thither and down the long stairs, leaving only crimson patches as a reminder that he had been there. Barrett wafted his gun arm about then grinned cockily, setting it to his shoulder as Cloud tried to shake off the effects of the paralysis pyramid technique Reno had used on them. Tifa got to her feet and ignored those two who seemed to have forgotten their priorities and with a stagger no less stable than the Turks had been, she made it to the monitor and the LCD bomb, pressing fingers as quickly as she cold to the keys on the open board. Please, someone stop this! She pressed and searched the databanks, hurriedly looking for an uninstaller or rejected passcode that would open up the files needed to stall the bomb. But there was nothing, not a thing there to show her how to disarm it, her torn fingertips leaving smears on the keypad as she typed, getting slower with frustration with every passing minute clocked off by the numbers, luridly green. In a fit of temper she kicked the underside of the control panel and turned to Cloud, "I don't know how to stop this, try it!" He came to her shoulder and she backed off, clenching her fists as he went through almost the exact same routines as she had not moments before. But there was nothing and the mercenary shook his head and turned around, "This is no ordinary bomb." Great – no shit Sherlock. Give that man half a brain cell... She bit her tongue and squeezed her eyes shut as they all three stood in momentary silence trying to take it all in. She'd pinned her hopes on his training, that something may have stuck in his memory from any of that and once again, her heart had taken a bruising blow. Tifa bit her lip too, feeling blood spring up from the pressure she applied helplessly. "I'm such a failure," she whispered breathlessly to herself. Then Barrett heard it first, turning with a growled curse as was expected from the giant's lips more often than not. She opened her wine-dark eyes and glanced to where Barrett was looking in expectation. There, a helicopter was coming closer with the snicking whirring sound of the blades passing through the air, keeping it aloft in the all the madness that raged helplessly on the lower echelons of the pillar. Tifa ran to the railing at Barrett's side to stare, Cloud drawing up behind her with that familiar presence. "...what...?" "That's right," a calm voice told them and she clamped a hand on her long hair to keep it from whipping up in the backdraft of the helicopter. The speaker was a man in his thirties with a smooth, unlined face bar a couple of sad looking laughter lines that stretched from his dark eyes. His hair was long, to his shoulders at least and in the centre of his forehead was a red dot. His clothes however, mirrored those that Reno had worn in such a tousled fashion and his very air was commanding and firm. She was briefly reminded in a sad way of her old master, Zangan. He'd possessed the same calm authority that this Turk did. The stab of pain to her heart went unnoticed in the midst of the other tangled feelings. "You'll have a hard time disarming that one. It'll go off the second some jerk touches it." "Please," she screamed over the noise of the helicopter, "Stop it!" "...Only a ShinRa executive can set up or disarm the emergency plate release system..." he made an amused gesture, as if to point out that he wasn't capable of it. Tifa ground her teeth so hard that tears sprang to her eyes. Beside her, Barrett roared into indignation, "Shut yer hole!" and moved the arm around to fire on the helicopter. She and Cloud raised their arms wordlessly to prevent the scattering of the blistering cases that sang, hitting the grating and falling away into the aching drop below them. "I wouldn't do that," said the man, his voice somehow carrying, "You might just make me injure my special guest..." Tifa frowned as he reached back and drew forward the struggling form in a pink dress and red jacket, the golden brown hair messed up beyond recognition with the familiar pink ribbon skewed in amongst the hair. "Aerith!" she screamed. "Oh, you know each other?" He smiled, "How nice you could see each other one last time, you should thank me." Cloud finally found his voice, just as she was shoving past Barrett's restraining arm, getting free to run towards the helicopter without a second thought. "What are you going to do with Aerith!" "I haven't decided. Our orders were to find and capture the last remaining Ancient. It's taken a long time..." She didn't hear the words just then, tucking them away for later as she got a foot onto the rail and stretched to try and grasp at Aerith's hands which were locked about the floor of the moving helicopter. "Aerith," she gasped softly. Green eyes locked with her, shining with defiance and hope, "Don't worry, Tifa, she's all right!" Tseng frowned and reached over, tugging the flower girl upright by her jacket shoulder and with a hand that held a device in it, slapped her smartly across the cheek. To Tifa, the girl took a horribly long time to fall into the helicopter and lie there still, showing only the soles of her boots. "Aerith!" she cried angrily and tried reaching for the platform just as Tseng's foot came into contact with her ruined fingers and pressed hard. Swallowing a yelp, her body betrayed her and let go. She came to a stop on the grate and glared up at Tseng, mentally marking the Turk down on her list of people to kill at some point, the little ‘Black List' she called it. He smirked at her and then with a renewed back-draft, the helicopter flew off. Above them came the sounds of joists creaking and strong junctions giving way. Helpless, she stood and angrily watched them go. She would have stood there for longer perhaps, shocked to her core. How could anyone raise a hand to someone like Aerith, who had put up so little fight, only said a few words. ...ShinRa... I hate them all... "I hate them all," Tifa whispered, forming fists with her hands, ignoring the blood dripping to the grate. The pain felt good, it reminded her she was still alive, it reminded her that she still had much to do yet. "I'm sorry," Cloud offered quietly, but she pretended she hadn't heard him. Instead, it was his touch on the arm that alerted her to Barrett swinging a large wire and hook about, yelling something about them escaping via it. She came over dully and hitched herself up onto his shoulder, the ruined hand cradled against his chest. She hoped everything would be all right with Marlene really, and with an aching swing, they flew off into the forever as the world that had been her home for five years crushed everything underneath it as it fell down... ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Aerith sat here earlier... She rubbed her hand, the cure spell having worked as well as she could have managed it, but the resentful voice inside told her Aerith could have done it better. Tifa was sat atop the very same slide that Aerith had positioned herself on only a day or so before this had all happened, staring not at the pile of ruins that was now sector 7, but at her own hand and the torn material that just about covered it. Cloud was crouched by the unconscious Barrett, waiting for him to wake up with the curative materia clasped loosely in his hand. The green glow was vibrant, painting a sickly light across the two men. She didn't want to watch the wounds the large miner had sustained be healed; instead she pursed her full lips and stared at her hand, stared at it and cursed bitterly. Everything keeps slipping through my fingers. Why am I so useless? Why can't I hang onto anything at all. Friends, family, my home... they all just vanish like smoke, into the thin air and I never hear of them again. Vanished like the dreams of yesterday. I know you won't blame me for this ever, but what a failure I am to myself. I have failed myself too many times... and even now, even when he falls over and asks questions, I lie and lie and lie, until I should turn to dust from it. I lie, most of all to myself. "He's waking up," Cloud advised as he drew back and she looked up, grateful to see the hulking bear of a man shaking himself awake. Stockily built and tall, he was as dark skinned as the Canyon people were, with a reckless grin and countless scars across his weary body; a fearsome exterior hiding a gruff sense of justice and duty, even love. Since that time she had crawled her way to Midgar and collapsed, Barrett had taken care of her like the wayward younger sister he never had. He helped her build the bar from a dream of wanting to be around people again, he'd tried to keep her safe from harm without actually once ever stopping her from doing as she wished. Even Marlene treated her like a sister, or a young aunt. She owed him more than simple thanks. When she had wept hollow tears and screeched out her anger, her horrible, violent temper, he'd been there to help her pick the pieces up and put them back together slowly. He'd patiently waited until she was well enough to see that some things simply happened... and that life wasn't all about grief. Losing him would be unbearable, she decided. "Marlene," he said, putting a groggy hand to his head, then he leapt up, "Marlene!" His eyes travelled to the ruins of the doors and the glowing inferno of death beyond that, then they widened. She winced, and held her chest, touching the bumpy scar the sword had left down her otherwise flawless skin. "Biggs, Wedge, Jessie!" he hurried over, calling out their names, "Marlene!" "Barrett..." She said softly, watching him. "..." he fired at the door, then kicked... then wearily punched at it and sank to the dusty floor, holding his face in his hand, "Goddammit... god...dammit... to hell... what's it all for?" "Hey, Barrett" Cloud tried to put his hand on his shoulder, but the large man shook him off, and went at the smouldering mess again, fists flailing. Surprised, the Soldier took a step back and glancing in uncertainty to her, and she sighed, slipping from the slide to go and join him. "Argh!" "Barrett, stop!" She grabbed one of the flailing arms and yanked him back, foot behind his so he was jerked from his centre of balance, "Please stop." "...Marlene..." he sobbed. "I...think Marlene is safe." "...huh?" Those brown eyes stared at her in confusion. Tifa dropped his arm so he stumbled away from her. She placed both of her arms about her middle and looked down with pain hidden in her eyes, "Right before they took Aerith, she said, "Don't worry, she's all right." She was probably talking about Marlene..." "R...Really...?" "But..." There was a silence and Barrett looked down, "Biggs, Wedge, Jessie." "All three of them," Cloud added quietly, looking for once, not so distant, but sad, "they were in the pillar." "Think I don't know that?" Barrett snapped and then shook his head in apology, moving so his hand grasped the nametags that swung over his chest, then continued in a somewhat more despondent tone of voice, "But... we... all of fought together. I don't want to think of them as dead..." "...and the other people in sector 7," Tifa nodded. ...the old man who'd tell me stories about his time spent in Wutai. The twins who joked relentlessly about my cooking. Even Johnny, when he found time to write, all those letters are gone now too... "This is all screwed up, they destroyed an entire sector to get to us! They killed so many people!" She narrowed her eyes and looked at Barrett sharply. "Are you saying it's our fault? Because Avalanche was here? Innocent lives were lost because of us?" He stared at her then gave a strangled sob, reaching to take her shoulder with his good hand – it was heavy and real, this was reality, she reminded herself. "No, Tifa... that ain't it! Hell no! It ain't us, it's the damn ShinRa. It ain't never been nobody but the damn ShinRa. They're evil and they're destroying our planet just to... build their power and line their own damn pockets with gold! If we don't get rid of them, they're gonna kill this planet. Our fight ain't ever over until we get rid of them." She looked him right in the eyes, fighting the surge of bitter emotions. It was their fight. Their, we, us, our. He was right, fundamentally so. She'd sworn in blood to see this through until the end, no matter what the cost might turn out to be and she nodded at him. He was right. He was more right than she would ever be with her wishy washy convictions, "I don't know," she confessed finally. "What don't you know, you don't believe me?" "No... I'm not sure... about me. About my feelings." "..." he looked from her to Cloud and she let out the breath of air she hadn't realised she was holding in. "...an' what about you?" "..." there was only a silence from Cloud who had, at some point in their exchange, presented his back to them, a back at which she frowned. Then suddenly he ran off and she blinked. Why was he running away? Barrett looked no less surprised, looking at Tifa and waiting for some kind of explanation as to why the mercenary was acting even more strangely than normal. She placed her hands together then blinked and touched her forehead: she really must have hit her head! "Oh, Aerith!" "Oh yeah, that girl, what's up with her?" Tifa scowled. Nothing is up with her, she felt like yelling, nothing at all. She's perfect. "...she's the one I left Marlene with." "Damn, Marlene!" Barrett hurried after Cloud and she sighed, following him in a wordless jog into the ramshackle of sector 5, "Tifa, there ain't no turning back now." "There never was," she said quietly to herself. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Aerith's house was just as Tifa had pictured it. In her childhood she had spent much time wandering the mountains of Nibelheim, looking at the flowers but never before had she seen such beautiful flora as the ones that exploded into bloom in the packed dirt around the small house. The house itself looked as if it had simply been stolen from a fairytale, rare sunshine flowing through some chink in the plate to bathe it and the scent of home cooking wafting through the window of the kitchen that opened onto the garden beyond it. Cloud knocked at the door, then entered at the good natured voice of the woman from inside. They all filed in carefully, Tifa vaguely annoyed that neither male even bothered to stop and wipe their feet on the pretty doormat that read, ‘welcome!' with flowery designs. Inside, the home was neat and cottage-like, with flowers in vases and expansive dining table greeting them, the kitchen just off to the side and if she hazarded a guess, the living room to the back where the radio softly played away to itself. The woman who greeted them was maybe five feet tall if she tried to stand up straight, with hair that was now more grey than brown and kind eyes, webbed with traces of the years in the scattered wrinkles of good humour that characterised the face of Aerith's mother. They had a round of introductions and she shook hands with her, smiling gently. "Cloud, wasn't it?" Elmyra said finally, turning to the blond, "It's about Aerith, isn't it?" "I'm sorry, the ShinRa have her." If Tifa had expected horror or fright, she was severely disappointed, as were the others; for the aging woman simply sighed regretfully and sat down, wiping her hands on the apron she wore. "I know, they took her from here." "They were here!" "It was what Aerith wanted," she replied simply. Tifa didn't ask, she sat down with a horrified thump, staring at Elmyra. Her hands tightened, a flash of pain reminding her that the bruise from her own inept healing still remained on the palm of her left hand. Cloud looked at her and she avoided his gaze, feeling incredibly guilty all of a sudden, then he asked Aerith's mother bluntly, "Why do the ShinRa want her?" "Because, Aerith is an Ancient, the sole survivor." "...what did you say? Aren't you her mother?" Barrett blinked and Tifa drew her dark eyes up to look at the woman, feeling the prickle of tears. "...not...her real mother," there was pain there in the voice, pain in the eyes that looked away, as if through the wall to the garden. Tifa fancied that the mother were trying to envisage her daughter, running, laughing, tending those flowers gently, the life she cherished and helped protect and grow. "Oh, it must have been... 15 years ago. During the war," she smiled. The war, there had only been one war to be named so, the war of the west upon the eastern military power of Wutai when their two cultures had come into conflict; the nature loving Wutai had eventually broken under the force of the science that ShinRa forced on them. "My husband was sent to the front, some far away placed named Wutai." Her voice became wistful, and Tifa tried to picture the scene as she spoke. "One day, I went to the station because I got a letter saying my husband was coming home on leave. My husband, he never came back..." Elmyra sighed, "I wonder if something happened to him? No, I'm sure his leave was just cancelled. I went to the station every day... then one day... there was a woman and her child laid on the station steps with the attendant hovering by helplessly. The woman wasn't old looking, only about late twenties, early thirties at most with pale golden brown hair and the saddest smile I'd ever seen. The child was a young girl, perhaps five or so. She was the image of the young woman, beautiful... you used to see this sort of thing a lot during the war. Her last words were, ‘please, take Aerith somewhere safe.'" Tifa covered her mouth trying so hard not to cry, her own sympathy screwed to fever pitch. "My husband never came back and I had no child, so I was probably lonely. So I decided to take her home with me. Aerith and I became close very quickly – that child loved to talk!" The martial artist hid a sudden smile – what little time she'd spent with Aerith had proven interesting and also somewhat exhausting. She really did have a talent for talking to people about anything and everything, making it all sound interesting. Elmyra continued; "She used to talk to me about everything. She told me, she had escaped from some sort of research laboratory somewhere, and that her mother had already returned to the planet so she wasn't lonely and many other things..." "Returned to the Planet?" Barrett interrupted. Tifa took this chance to dash tears from her eyes, trying to fix her cool composed mask into place. Aerith had always been smiling, why didn't she let it show, that fear? It must have been so horrible, must still be so... there was no doubt in Tifa's mind that the laboratory was run by ShinRa. She added another tick on the ‘Black List' next to ‘things to do to the science department'. "I didn't know what she meant, I asked her if she meant a star in the sky. She said no, this planet. She was a mysterious child in many ways... Once she came to me and told me not to cry, that I shouldn't be sad. Someone I loved had died, his spirit had been trying to see me, but he'd already returned to the planet. I was shocked and confused, but sure enough, several days later we received a notice saying my husband had died." Elmyra crinkled her eyes with a sad smile, the smile someone wears when the raw tears of grief leave only sadness behind, "And that's how it was. A lot had happened, but we were happy... until one day..." "One day...?" Cloud prompted. "...A man from the Turks came to see us. It seems he knew Aerith from her time spent in captivity. He said his name was Tseng, and unlike the bullies they can be, he never once laid a finger on her, only spoke to her. He told us that she was born of special blood, that Aerith could lead everyone from the slums to somewhere special, a place called the ‘Promised Land'. It would be a place of prosperity and happiness. She denied it all of course, hearing voices, her unique powers... but I knew the truth. I knew all about her mysterious powers." Elmyra laughed softly, so sadly; it made Tifa want to weep all the harder, "she tried... so... so hard to hide it, so... I acted as though I never noticed..." "It's amazing how she's managed to avoid ShinRa all this time," Cloud said in a measure of awe and wariness. The woman looked from face to face, Tifa tried smiling but it felt wobbly and out of place. "The ShinRa needed her, so I guess they wouldn't harm her." "But," Tifa asked, the memory of the blow to Aerith's face still strong in her mind, the long fall and then the stillness after it, "Why now?" "She brought a little girl with her. On the way, Tseng probably found them and Aerith, being how she is, offered to let them take her away in exchange for the little girls safety." "Must be Marlene," offered the mercenary and winced as Barrett burst in over it; "Marlene! Aerith was caught because of Marlene... I'm sorry... Marlene is my daughter..." "You're her father?" Elmyra frowned and stood up, and even Barrett paused in waving his arms about to take a step back. Tifa was briefly glad a table existed between herself and the two parents. "How in the world could you ever leave a child alone like that?" "Please," he begged brokenly, "don't start with that. I think about it all the time, what would happen if I... but you gotta understand somethin'. I don't got an answer... I wanna be with Marlene but I gotta fight, cause if I don't, the planets gonna die. So I'm gonna keep fighting! But then, I'm worried ‘bout Marlene...I really just wanna spend time with her... see, I'm going round in circles now..." "I think I understand what you're saying. She's upstairs, the first room, you should go see her." Barrett grinned and moved past, up the stairs with a clattering noise and cry of his daughters name. Cloud followed after, scrubbing sheepishly at his hair as he went. Tifa drew symbols on the lace tablecloth with the patterns of wings embroidered carefully on the hems and edges. She knew that Elmyra's eyes were on her. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "this is my fault." "Don't think that, Aerith doesn't." "...how do you know that?" Tifa looked up sullenly, "Everyone always blames someone else." Elmyra just smiled at her, motherly. A stab of grief tore her heart, how she wished she could recall if her mother had ever smiled like that. "Aerith never blamed anyone for anything. She'd say, it was just one of those things that happen. That if she kept smiling, then tomorrow would come sooner and brighter than today or yesterday. It's a good philosophy. Don't get me wrong, she's nobodies fool, and neither is she an airhead optimist... she just knows that you can't go around carrying grief like a burden and anger like a battering ram." "...I'll bring her back," she said. "I think you will." "..." Tifa looked down, "I really am sorry though." Cloud came down the stairs, followed by Barrett and she stood up, looking past Elmyra and setting her face stubbornly. Let's see him try and order me around now, she thought defiantly. "Cloud," she said, noting that he'd tried walking past her without so much as saying a damned word, how insufferable could one man be! "You're going after her, right?" "Yeah." "...I'm coming with you." "It's ShinRa headquarters, you gotta be prepared for the worst." "I know!" she snapped and looked away, sullen, temper grating at her nerves. "I know," she repeated, "Right now... I feel as though I have to push myself to the limit... or... or I'll go crazy." Crazy because I'm such a mess. All I ever do is make mistakes... She didn't hear much else, stepping outside ahead of them to take one last look at the flower garden which had been tended with careful hands, and a smile which bloomed no matter how little sunshine there was. An Ancient? Did that really matter anyway? Aerith was a person, was someone who was fast becoming something dear to her. The simple words and gestures, the gifts given and the support for a heart she had thought too scarred to beat any longer, someone who had stopped the clock from turning over. She didn't want this to end here with something unavoidable, with another mess she made and couldn't get out of. Tifa lifted her hand and frowned at the yellow orb as they said their goodbyes inside to Elmyra. It shone brightly. "...people always throw away useful things..." "...we'll see about that," she muttered as the door opened and closed behind her, and the mutter of, "where to now," drifted over. With a sigh, she turned away from the vision of flowers and heaven, to more mundane, tiring and soul scarring matters... ---------------------------------------------------------------------- She curled her arms about her knees and tried not to chatter her teeth with the old fear, faces pressed to the glass of the tank outside. She knew them and their faces. The Turks whom she'd had spent a lifelong rivalry with; Reno and his jokes, Rude and his taciturn silence and Tseng, who watched her with sympathy. Over the years, despite them having orders to bring her in, they'd also become a strange family. Reno had sometimes seen her when off duty – when she'd tensed to run, he'd wave a hand and proclaim, "It's my time off, kitten, don't sweat it." And would tell her jokes. Rude, too, took this attitude and bought flowers if he saw her on his time off. She grew to know their routines... But Tseng had been lucky in finding her. The compassionate young man of her youth stared at her lovingly and sorrowfully, unable to do anything else and stuck between what is and what he'd like. She didn't blame him, she told him. ...but the faces blurred as they left, so only one face remained, leering and greasy, with lank hair framing a thin face and sneering lips, oversized glasses and lab coat. She shivered and pressed further away from him, as best she could. ...and bit her lips hard, blood running down her chin, so she would not cry out... ...she'd never cry out again...
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