Ugly Truths: Chapter 8

Chapter 8


Cloud reached for his reserves. It was usually a piece of himself he held back until the end of a fight. The very final resort. Now he needed it just to cross the last few feet to the door of Seventh Heaven. And when Tifa opened the door before he could prepare himself, he felt his stomach drop. He averted his eyes, but managed not to literally back away.

“Cloud,” She said, her voice unexpectedly gentle. “Welcome home.”

He risked a glance at her, and found none of the anger he’d expected. Her dark eyes were expectant and concerned, but not upset. He caught a breath, and let it out slowly. He never quite remembered how his friends really looked. In his mind, they regarded him with suspicion and disquiet, like they had after the Black Materia incident. In his mind, that was the best he deserved from them.

In reality, Tifa had rarely looked at him with anything but fondness or concern since Mideel. Maybe even since before that. If there was a trace of frustration in her gaze just then, he could understand.

“Good to be back.” He replied in a mutter.

“Come on,” Tifa urged. “Don’t just hover there in the doorway.”

“Wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”

A roll of dark eyes. “Dilly dally—”

“Tifa.”

“This is your home, Cloud. There won’t ever be a time you’re not welcome here.”

“But you are mad.”

“Mad isn’t the word I would use.” She crossed her arms, her lips tightening at the corners, too tense to be a smile, but not a frown either. “Worried, definitely.”

“Are the kids here?” Cloud shifted his weight, rolling his shoulders uneasily.

“They’re staying with Barret.” Tifa replied, shaking her head. “I didn’t want them to be here while we talked. Not for you to just go again. They’re still trying to understand, Cloud. So am I.”

“What about Irene?” Cloud asked. “She’s supposed to meet me here.”

“She’s upstairs, sleeping off last night.” Tifa said with a sigh. “Now will you please talk to me?”

Cloud made a low sound, glancing down at the ground. He kicked at a small stone, sending it skittering out of the entryway.

“Come on,” Tifa said, stepping aside and opening the door for him fully. “You let me in your head once. Will you share your thoughts with me one more time?”

“You probably already think I’m crazy,” he shrugged, waving a hand between them. “If you didn’t a long time ago.”

“I don’t think a single one of us came through everything that’s happened without being a little unusual,” Tifa said with a small, warm smile. “I don’t think you’re crazy. And I never have. You get sick sometimes, sure. And you get close to breaking. But it’s only because you care so much.”

“Tifa—”

“Come inside,” She insisted. “The Turks have been all over the place recently.”

“Heh,” Cloud’s lips twitched. “They met me on the way here.”

“Any casualties?” Tifa asked, a bit of a wicked glimmer in her dark eyes.

“Rufus’s pride, I think.” Cloud shook his head, tilting his chin down. “But just a flesh wound. I’m sure it’ll heal in no time.”

“Well, he’s always been tenatious.” Tifa sighed.

“I can talk for a while,” Cloud assented, finally taking the steps up into Seventh Heaven. “But not too long. I don’t want to make Vincent babysit for too long.”

“No?” Tifa asked. “Pity. It’d probably be good for him.”

“Looking after the remnants?”

“Babysitting,” Tifa said with wry humor. “I hear it helps grandparents stay sharp.”

Cloud snorted, a flicker of a grin crossing his face. “You’re awful, Tifa.”

“You know you like it.” Tifa chuckled. “And so does he. Otherwise neither of you would put up with me.”

Cloud sat down with her at one of the booths in the empty, closed bar. She didn’t offer him a drink, and he was grateful. He wanted to be on even ground with her, not catered to or pampered.

“So,” She spread her hands on the table between them, expectant. “Start at the beginning.”

Cloud didn’t mean to tell her everything, but sometimes where Tifa was concerned something about the way she nodded and listened compelled him to spill everything on his mind—to explain himself. Or at least as much as he could. There was something about the remnants and their situation that he didn’t understand. And even more about his own reaction that he couldn’t fathom.
He told her of Kadaj’s strangely earnest pleading while he trembled in agony, and his strangely supportive behavior of late. Of Yazoo’s bloody body, and dangerous attitude. Of Loz’s wounded hands and strange awkwardness, though he flinched in saying anything positive about the man who’d harmed his friend. He told her about their frustration with being forced to learn letters, and their inexplicably harsh behavior towards each other. He told her every fear weighing him down. All but one. That one he couldn’t stomach yet. Not till he knew where she stood.

“I don’t know,” he murmured at last as he ran out of things worth saying. He leaned back in the booth and cast his glance across the bar, scanning the empty seats. Sometimes he missed the old Seventh Heaven with its secret door and sense of purpose. “I know they’re probably not worth it,  they really seem to be trying. Well, two of them at least. I’m just tired of the killing, Tifa. I’m tired of being an executioner.”

“Hm.” Tifa watched him closely, waiting a moment more for him to continue before taking a breath to answer.

“I’m a little surprised,” She admitted after a moment. “Though I shouldn’t be. You’ve always been the kind of guy who’d make a good dad.”

Cloud blinked, then squinted at her suspiciously. That was absolutely not the case, and Tifa knew it. How often had he failed Denzel already? Not to mention Marlene.

“Well,” She sighed. “So long as you don’t get too complacent, okay? I don’t want to find out they were playing you, waiting for a chance to stab you in the back.”

“Yazoo is,” Cloud said with a shrug. “No doubt. But I don’t think Loz has a lying bone in his body. And whatever Kadaj is thinking, he’s been weirdly vocal about defending my decisions and keeping Yazoo in line. Besides, he’s still being compliant with the mako inhibitors. At least this far. I’ve got an eye on them all, Tifa. I’m not going to let down my guard.”

“I wonder.” Tifa murmured. “That’s alright, though. If it keeps up like you’ve said, maybe things will be okay after all. If you can train them into shape, get them controllable… Maybe a regular prison would do after all. Then you could come home.”

“I’m not thinking that far ahead.” Cloud murmured, shaking his head. He didn’t know why the words made him so uncomfortable, but they did. “Right now I just want to get back to town before they manage to piss off any demons.”

“Well,” Tifa said with a shrug. “I’m always telling you to live in the moment, so I guess I can’t fault you for not planning ahead.”

“Heh.” Cloud smirked, drumming a finger lightly on the table between them. “Thanks for that. I’m not sure how well I’d stand up to one of your lectures right now.”

“You know I try not to lecture you when I can help it.” Tifa teased, leaning forward to prop her elbow on the table and her head in her hand. “I just worry about you.”

“I know.”

“Promise me you’ll call more frequently. If you’re in trouble, I want to know, Cloud.”

“Do my best,” Cloud agreed in a mumble. “Tifa, I don’t want to cut things short, but—”

“Demons, remnants, the weight of the world,” Tifa sighed. “I know. You’re a busy man.”

“I’ll find a way to balance it all.” Cloud promised with a slow nod.

Tifa shrugged with a wry smile. “Avalanche has overcome worse odds, I guess.”

“In the chocobo races if nothing else,” Cloud added, gratified when Tifa gave a delighted bark of laughter.

“Alright,” She said, placing her hand firmly on the table. “Then I’ll be on your side. But that means you have to turn to me if you need me, right? Until then I’ll keep home together and make sure the kids know you still love them. So you take care of yourself.”

“I owe you,” Cloud agreed, giving a little nod. “And I promise I’ll come back to visit properly soon. It’s just…”

“Your first time leaving the new kids at home,” Tifa teased, sliding out of the booth and waggling a finger at him almost playfully. Cloud relaxed a touch at the easy-going attitude. Tifa never would have let him off the hook that easily if she didn’t understand at least a little. “Irene’s upstairs in your room. She’s not exactly 100%, but she knows you’re coming.”

“Right.” Cloud nodded, rising and turning to the stairs. “Let’s hope she likes motorcycles.”

“Take the truck,” Tifa laughed. “Barret and I will make do with the kids.”

“You sure?” Cloud turned to inspect her, searching for signs of her being too self-sacrificial. She had a habit of pushing too far with being supportive at times. But she was just giving him her usual, amused smile as she leaned on her counter.

“Sure,” She said, shaking her head. “Barret’s in town to do the driving. And trust me, you won’t want Irene leaning on your back today.”

Cloud’s concerned look turned suspicious. Tifa just kept giving him that mild smile and waved him on. It wasn’t till he was upstairs and opening the door to what had once been his bedroom that he realized why Tifa had looked so wry.

For a moment, he stood in the doorway, watching the woman lying in the bed that would have been his if he’d been at home. He tried to see her as he had the last time, when she left the room after they met. He tried to see dark brown, curling hair, and the memory of Zack’s. Or was it really Zack’s memory? Could it have been Sephiroth’s influence instead? Making up false thoughts for him?

The woman’s form remained stubbornly middle-aged and asleep. No latent memories or visions arose. The only change was that the smell of whiskey finally reached Cloud’s nose. He glanced around the room, wondering if Tifa had already started using it for storage while she waited for him to come back. He hummed to himself, then rapped lightly on the door frame, trying to call attention to himself without being too overtly creepy. It was not often he walked in on someone sleeping.

Irene lifted her head from the pillow with a grunt, narrowing bleary, unfocused eyes at Cloud. In turn, Cloud stared at the woman fixedly, taking in her rumpled hair, the stains on her shirt, the way she was splayed out on the bed. He took an experimental sniff, then huffed the breath out instantly, a scowl crossing his face once more. Just what he needed.

“You’re drunk,” Cloud accused, wrinkling his nose.

“I’m always a little bit drunk,” Irene snickered, even as she pushed herself up on one elbow, the chuckle turning into a groan. “Have been since the war.”

“You’re supposed to be a doctor.” Cloud frowned, his brows lowering as he observed her.

“It’s supposed to be my day off,” Irene drawled in response, giving him a haughty wave. “So let’s get going, Blondie.”

“Can you do your job?” Cloud asked skeptically.

“Depends,” Irene answered, her eyes deceptively steady and fierce compared to the way she was still half collapsed in bed. “Can you drive steady enough for me to sleep it off on the way?”

Very, very briefly, Cloud wished he’d taken Yazoo up on his offer to come along so that ‘there would be one good driver in the car, at least.’

“Guess we’ll see.” He said to the still-drunk woman, doubting it. “Meet you downstairs.”

Tifa had her mouth covered with one hand when Cloud walked downstairs, and her eyes were crinkled as she fought a smile.

“Seriously?” Cloud crossed his arms, sighing at his old friend.

“It’s not like I got her drunk on purpose,” Tifa objected, her voice wavering just a little in the amusement she was fighting back. “I run a bar, Cloud. There’s a reason I knew the woman in the first place.”

“Because she’s wasted all the time?” Cloud sighed as Tifa gave an eloquent shrug.

“Not all the time.” Tifa corrected. “She does her job. On her days off, though… Well. It takes a fair amount of alcohol before someone starts telling a member of Avalanche how much they liked Sephiroth, you know?”

“Should have guessed,” Cloud muttered. “Nothing’s that simple.”

“I’ll say this for her, though.” Tifa said, lifting a finger. “She didn’t even bring her white coat this time. So she must have been paying attention to you. And she did patch up your—”
She seemed to fish for a word to describe the remnants. From the way her lips twisted, Cloud guessed that most of them were the sort of thing she tended to stop herself from saying in front of the kids.

“Charges.” She finally finished.

“Sure you want to go with ‘charges’?” Cloud teased, quietly, a smile quirking his lips despite himself. “Marlene and Denzel aren’t home. And you don’t have to censor for my sake.”

“Hellspawn?” She volunteered a moment later, turning to lean back against her bar and watch Cloud. “Larvae?

“Don’t hold yourself back,” He muttered, chuckling. Then he sobered, watching her dark eyes crinkle with quiet laughter. “Tifa… Look. I have a favor to ask. But it’s gunna sound weird.”

Tifa went quiet and serious. She blinked at him, then leaned forward, crossing her arms and nodding at him.

“I’m with you.” She said. There was a rather loud retch from upstairs. Both of them winced, glancing at the stairs. “And… I think we have a moment before Irene will be joining us. What’s do you need?”

“I’ve been…” Cloud took a slow breath, trying to decide. “I’ve been hearing voices again. Like back before. Before you helped me put together… Who I was again.”

“Oh.” Tifa didn’t freak out. But he saw her unease rise. All of Avalanche knew that he’d heard voices during their time chasing Sephiroth, but Tifa had been inside his head. She knew the mess that Nibelheim, the labs, and Sephrioth had made of Cloud’s mind.

“Aerith and Zack,” Cloud murmured softly. “And I do think it’s them. It’s like when the remnants were here the first time. When I heard them from the other side, egging me on or backing me up. Except they’re being a lot more… Pushy.”

“Pushy how?” Tifa asked, walking over to him slowly with a small frown.

“They’re in the remnants corner most of the time.” Cloud said slowly. “And I don’t know why. I still think it’s them, just… I’m worried. That I wouldn’t know if it wasn’t.”

“That’s probably a good concern,” Tifa said with a little smile. “What can I do? Not a lot of things I can punch in this situation.”

“Keep an eye on me?” Cloud asked softly. “I’ll call more often. If I stop making sense…”

“I’ll do my best,” Tifa promised, giving a firm nod. “But you’ll have to trust my judgement. Like you already kind of didn’t about them in the first place.”

She lifted an eyebrow at him, and Cloud cleared his throat.

“I trust you,” He muttered softly. “You just… That is…”

“No, I get it,” She sighed. “You’d already decided to protect them. It wasn’t fair of me to object then.”

“Do you still think it’s wrong?” He asked, softly. “I can’t stomach the idea of sending them back there. The Turks would tear them apart. But if you really think it’s…”

“No,” Tifa said softly. “No, I think you’re right. You’ve been an executioner too long. I don’t think it’s fair, but I do think you’re right.”

She let out a breath, shaking her head at him.

“Or at least that you’re acting like yourself.”

“Yeah?” Cloud asked, lifting his eyes off the floor to watch her.

“Mmhmm.” She said mildly. “Going out of your way for people you don’t like, making yourself miserable, stressing yourself to pieces… That’s all classic Cloud Strife.”

Cloud let out a breath of laughter as Tifa punched his shoulder lightly.

“Thanks, Tifa.”

“My pleasure. I’ll rag on you any time, punk.”

Cloud grinned at her, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle punch in return. Then footsteps on the stairs marked the end of their reprieve.

“Well,” Irene huffed from where she was leaning on the hallway’s wall. “Let’s get this over with.”

---

It turned out Cloud was not a good enough driver for Irene to sleep off the rest of her drunken night. At least not all in one stretch. He was having a hard time focusing entirely on keeping the ride smooth. He was too stressed about what might have been happening back at the farmhouse. Vincent hadn’t called, but then Cloud wasn’t sure what Vincent would consider something worth calling about.

Some part of him was certain he’d walk back home to bloody floors and dead remnants with a shrugging Vincent standing in the middle. For some reason, the thought made him speed up considerably.

“Ugh,” Irene groaned, shifting against the door with a rather ill burp. “Do you mind?”

“Trust me, I’d rather you slept through the trip too,” Cloud muttered darkly.

“What, uncomfortable riding with your arch-enemy’s ex-doctor?”

“He wasn’t my—Nevermind.” Cloud huffed, clenching his jaw. Sephiroth again. Everything was always Sephiroth.

Irene just stretched with a heavy sigh that made the car smell like mouth wash. Better than whiskey, Cloud decided, but still not the best.

For a moment, the ride was silent except for the road under them. Cloud took a right onto an unmarked dirt road, and Irene shifted in her seat, watching the passenger’s side mirror.

“We’re being followed.” She said after a long moment, with a scowl on her face.

“I’m sure we are,” Cloud sighed. “Turks met me on my way into town, after all.”

“Great, so they know where you are.” The woman’s sharp eyes pinned Cloud in place, but he refused to be moved by her obvious ire. “Does that mean you’ll lay off of the mako inhibitors?”

“Did you bring them?”

“Yes.” She replied blankly.

Cloud did not reply further than that. He didn’t want to tell her how much he hated those morning injections. How deeply he feared discontinuing them. How easy it would be for things to get out of control if Kadaj had his full strength. And still, Cid hadn’t found an answer for him about a way to remove or de-weaponize the spike in his neck… Cloud would have asked Reeve if he trusted him with this. But Reeve was too likely to take the opportunity to paralyze Kadaj and say it was for the best later.

“Tell me how he’s been.” Irene demanded.

“All of them?”

“Kadaj specifically.”

Cloud considered. Then he gave a little shrug, humming to himself.

“Quieter than I’d thought.” He said at last, shifting back a gear to slow down, watching the following car try to nonchalantly amble behind them as if they intended to go as slow as Cloud was. “Still brash and annoying. I can tell his control is on shaky ground, but he hasn’t lost it yet. He seems…”

He hesitated, glancing to Irene. She was watching him expectantly.

“Pretty downtrodden,” Cloud said slowly. “To be frank. Not that I necessarily think that’s a bad thing.”

“Mm.” Irene narrowed her eyes on him, then turned towards the road again. “I believe you when you say you’re doing your best for them, Strife. I can tell you care, somewhere in that odd head of yours. But you can’t keep him on them forever. There are side effects. Exhaustion, nausea, weight loss, apathy, in some cases self harm becomes a concern. Not to mention the psychological stress it must put him under.”

“I think he was already under plenty of psychological stress,” Cloud muttered.

Irene looked like she’d like very much to hit him. Cloud refused to meet her eyes. Even so, he was thinking back on Kadaj’s behavior. Even tortured to the brink of his tolerance by Tseng, he’d still been vivacious and intense. Sharp grins and sharper words. Recently Cloud had taken his comparable quiet as acceptance. He didn’t know what to think if it was just a side effect. He remembered Yazoo pestering Kadaj to eat, and Kadaj’s half-hearted acceptance. Nausea, weight loss, exhaustion…

“I’m in a bad position, Irene.” He said at last. “I’m trying to do right by them. But they would not grant me the same leniency if I let them get the upper hand even for a second. Yazoo watches for openings all the time. If I give him any chance, he’ll rip me limb from limb. Kadaj would too, I have no doubt.”

“Of course,” Irene huffed. “You’re holding them captive. Enforcing your will over theirs. You expect them to be grateful?”

“I’ve given them as much freedom as I can, but I can’t let them run all over me. They’re criminals.”

“They’re teenagers. Impossibly powerful teenagers with no good role models. They are never going to live up to your expectations of them unless you let them, Strife.”

Cloud was silent. Then he shook his head, taking the next turn hard and speeding ahead in a sudden burst of speed. Irene gripped on with a gasp as Cloud powered towards the next cross road, pushing the truck as fast as he could. The follow car picked up speed in return, but it was clearly a little far behind now, and no longer even remotely pretending not to follow.

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought.” Cloud muttered. “Sorry about this Irene.”

“Oh, I’m used to it,” Irene groused, braced against the door’s handle and the dash board, her feet pressing against the footwell to hold her back against the seat. “Let me guess, next is the emergency stop.”

“Just for a second,” Cloud agreed with a shrug. “How’s that hangover?”

“I hate you,” Irene growled.

Cloud shrugged a little in acknowledgement, and shot her a brief smirk. Irene huffed and braced herself. Cloud slammed on the breaks in the middle of the road, with the chase car fast approaching. The sleeker black car veered and managed to stop itself before careening into one of the broad trees lining the road.

Cloud opened the door to the truck, pulled out his sword, and sauntered towards the chase car.

“Come on.” He said to the car as it revved in reverse, as if trying to escape him. “Really?”

He leapt forward in a blur, his body flaring eagerly to life at the chance. He lept onto the roof of the car and slammed his sword down, impaling its hood. The engine made a dying noise of objection as Cloud wrenched his sword in a killing twist.

“Oh what the hell, Strife!” Complained Reno’s voice loudly from inside, popping the door open to look out at him in alarm.

“Bill the president,” Cloud said, waving a hand. “Clearly he’s got the money to waste if he’s following me around.”

“Those little psychos are going to stab you in the back,” Reno informed him, even as he raked a hand through his hair, staring at the sword sticking out of his engine block.

“Probably,” Cloud pulled the sword out, releasing a hiss of steam and the heavy scent of oil. “Have fun getting back to Edge.”

He hopped of the car, grimacing at the residue left on Tsurugi’s edge and wiping it on his pants as he wandered back towards the car. Irene was watching in the rear view, then rolled her window down to lean out and wave.

“Hey, Reno.” She called mildly.

“Oh, hey, Irene.” He yelled back. “You’re over that bender last night already?”

“Not even a little. I’ll puke in his car to avenge that nice machine of yours.”

“Hey,” Cloud muttered, getting into the car.

“You’re not helping him with those freaks are you?” Reno called, sitting on the hood of the car with an easy-going slump.

“You just try to find out, Turk,” She called back mildly. “Stay hydrated.”

“Yeah yeah,” Reno muttered.

“Done chatting?” Cloud muttered, starting the truck.

Irene huffed at him, giving a little wave back towards Reno as they pulled away. Cloud kept going on the road till they were well out of Reno’s line of sight, then started working on a way to get back onto the right right to Rocket Town.

“You know the Turks?” He asked, glancing over at her.

“I worked at Shinra for a decade of my life,” She said with a shrug. “I may have been Sephiroth’s go-to practitioner, but that doesn’t mean I never spoke to anyone else. I was Reno’s pediatrician for a while, back when he was still a scrawny slum-waif.”

“Huh,” Cloud muttered softly, glancing behind them. “Well. That added another ten minutes to the trip. You going to try to sleep it off?”

“I’d better,” Irene sighed, rubbing her temples. “I’d forgotten how much I hate interesting days.”

Cloud drove as carefully as he could, letting Irene rest while she had the chance. He cast glances at her now and then, trying to decide whether or not she could be considered an ally. She certainly wouldn’t consider him the same, he decided, turning back to the road. But that didn’t make it untrue.

He parked at Cid’s house again, and hesitated, watching Irene snore on the door. He cleared his throat awkwardly, but it didn’t wake her. For a moment he just sat there, glancing around. But the farmhouse was too close, and he was too certain that something must have gone wrong.

“Irene,” He said, poking her shoulder when she didn’t wake up. “We’re here.”

Irene opened bleary eyes at him, and for a moment he had another flash of memory. Irene with her eyes red and exhausted, looking up at the speaker from where she lay half-on a patient’s bed, misery and loss all but bleeding from her.

Then the older woman beside him stretched and yawned, cracking her neck and kicking her door open.

“Alright,” She said, stepping stiffly out of the car. “Let’s get this taken care of.”

“It’s a bit of a hike,” Cloud managed to say after a long moment. He wanted to ask who the figure on the bed had been. But he didn’t think he’d get an answer. Plus, she’d looked shattered in the memory. He didn’t suppose being a war-time doctor was the sort of thing a person wanted to talk much about.

“I was about to say,” Irene huffed. “Keeping them in a hanger seems ill-advised.”

Cloud gestured the way and started walking. Irene wandered behind him, slower and yawning, but Cloud wasn’t worried about her keeping up. He had bigger concerns. He let out a breath when he saw the little house standing. That was a good start. No one was outside, also a plus. It was edging towards evening, and they should all have been firmly involved in their chores by that point.

He couldn’t swallow down the pit of anxiety in his gut, though. It was too easy. Too simple. Too foolish to think that nothing at all could have gone wrong, when he had so little information. He waited till he was sure Irene had an eyeline to the house, then hurried ahead of her. He’d prime the boys for the arrival of their guest if he could. He might not have liked her, but Yazoo’s reaction to the conversation about bringing her in had been more than enough to unnerve him.

He didn’t dare start thinking about what the hell he was going to do with Yazoo. Not just then.

He knocked twice on the door, starting to open it. Thready sounds greeted him, and his brow furrowed as he recognized the sound of someone sobbing softly upstairs. He almost heaved an annoyed sigh, but hesitated. Something about the tears seemed different. Less whining, more distraught.

Vincent stepped into the hallway just as Cloud stepped inside, approaching Cloud slowly. His his expression was unreadable, but there was a definite tension about him

“Cloud.” Vincent greeted at the doorway.

“Is that Loz crying?” Cloud asked, looking behind Vincent to where he could see Yazoo hovering at the base of the stairs, his eyes all attentive, intense anger.

“There may have been…” Vincent paused, tilting his head forward, obscuring his expression behind the imposing mantel he wore. “Something of an incident.”