(Author's Note: As said in the description, there was quite a gap in time between the explosion on the Shinra building and the time when Cloud wakes up in the church. He was missing for a whole night. It got me to thinking, what would Tifa do if she didn't know if Cloud was alive or dead for a whole night? How would she cope? Please feel free to comment and enjoy!)

Missing

Tifa stumbled into the Seventh Heaven Inn so late at night it had turned morning, every muscle in her body trembling with fatigue. Slowly, she went over to the bar, braced her hands on the cool wood of the bartop, and stared at the orderly row of bottles on the back shelf. She stared, unseeing, at the rows of glass. Her gaze slowly swung over to the large mirror that backed the bar and stared at her reflection.

Her hair was a mess, wind-tossed by the HighShera's blades as she had scoured the ruins of Midgar with the others. Scrapes and concrete burn marred the skin of her jaw and arms, put there when sheer exhaustion had made her movements slow and clumsy, made her trip over the rubble. The wounds bled a little - nothing a cure spell couldn't fix. Her eyes were raw and bloodshot, desperation and terror clouding their brown depths.

For a long, breathless moment, Tifa stared at the haunted reflection she didn't recognize - the image of a desperate, terrified woman at her wits' end. A sharp, sobbing gasp broke the silence of the bar and it was a moment before she realized it came from her.

She had to get away from that mirror before her control vanished entirely. With a wrench of her flagging will, she tore her eyes away from the anguish in the reflection's eyes and stumbled for the stairs.

She tripped on the first step and nearly brained herself. Using her hands, she crept up the stairs, her shocked mind capable of dealing only with the repetitive motion of reaching, grasping, lifting, then the next hand, then her feet. The rhythm of the movement was comforting, took her mind off the pain. It held back the mind-numbing flood of disbelief and agony for a little while.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she didn't even notice, one hand automatically groping the air for the next step. Realization slowly made its way through her numbed mind and she reached up, grasped the banister and pulled herself up, arms trembling. Small gasping sounds involuntarily escaped her, not caused by exhaustion, but by pain without measure.

Bowed over, one hand pressed against the empty burning in her heart, she slowly walked down the hallway, leaning heavily against the wall.

A door opened as she was passing by and Marlene and Denzel peeked out at her. She didn't raise her head to acknowledge them, the dark curtain of her hair hiding her grief-ravaged face. The kids said nothing as she made her inching, agonized progress down the hall. The silence was broken only by the painful, shuddering gasps she tried to hold back and the unsteady, stumbling rhthym of her footfalls on the floorboards.

Finally, she reached the end of the hall and she forced herself to straighten as she grasped the handle to the bedroom. His bedroom. It hurt to stand, pulled on the empty, burning hole in her chest where her lay beating. She heard another door close as she twisted the handle. Good. She couldn't talk to the kids right now.

The door swung open and she leaned on it to carry her into the room. It was perfectly untouched during his long absence. She came in here only to sweep and open the window now and then. In the middle of the room sat the bed, sheets still rumpled from their last use. Next to it lay a short bookshelf, containing books on materia, the applications thereof and various manuals on motorcycle maintainence. A few pictures and dried up flowers adorned the top. To the left, a low worktable, covered with tools and scraps of leather, occupied the area near the window. Next to it was a large chest. A small nightstand opposite the book shelf held a bedside lamp, a phone, and a clock that read 3:46 AM in bright blue.

Tifa stood and stared at the room, an aching pain spreading from her heart through the rest of her body.

Cloud! Cloud! Cloud! Her mind screamed the name in heart-rending agony, a mental cry she badly wanted to give voice to.

She and the others had spent hours upon hours searching for him. After the explosion on the old Shinra building, it had been all they could do to prevent her from breaking through the glass and search for him right then. Precious minutes had gone by while Cid landed the ship, and she had left the airship like a bullet, racing to find Cloud.

But there was nothing. Only his swords were left on the right half of the rooftop - the other half had been blown away. Hours had gone by while they searched for a sign of the blond, hours that stretched long into the night. She'd even checked Aerith's church and found nothing but an empty pool of water. She'd kept looking long after the other's had given in to exhaustion and hopelessness. Night had come, bringing panicked terror with it. But she'd refused to give up. She wouldn't rest until she found him.

She'd raced over ruins, broke into collapsed buildings with one shattering blow of her fist - nothing.

She searched the slums and the upper plate, blasting away concrete with materia - nothing.

She shouted and begged and cried out for him to answer her, please, just answer, until her voice had given out - nothing.

She'd run herself to exhaustion, passing out on the rubble when she could no longer move. Barret had woken her, said she had to get to sleep. They'd find him in the morning. The grim look in his eye told her the chances he thought of that - at best, he hoped to find Cloud's body, if even that much was left. It had been a big explosion.

His words rattled around in her head. Get some rest. Rest. Get some rest. Cloud... She couldn't sleep, not until Cloud was safely resting here.

Tifa went around the foot of the bed and stared at the rumpled sheets. Then she quietly fell to her knees and leaned against the bed. She folded her arms under her head and buried her face in them, trying to stifle the sobs that shook her entire body.

For a while, she had denied the truth. Her mind simply refused to accept it. He couldn't be gone. He couldn't. If he was gone... another heart-breaking sob erupted from her. It felt as though her heart had been ripped out, leaving only an aching emptiness. God, it hurt so much!

Her hands, scraped raw and bloody from scrabbling for a hold on jagged concrete and rusty metal, gripped and twisted the sheets. Short, broken gasps were muffled by the cloth as her hands writhed to a pain no weapon or spell could ever hope to inflict. No tears soaked into the sheets; her eyes burned with dryness.

Sometimes, a wound strikes so deep that tears cannot find it.

Cloud! Cloud! Cloud! her mind piteously cried, a damning chant she couldn't quiet. She tried to say it, tried to call out the name of one so precious to her, even though her voice had gone out hours ago, but choked on her grief.

I never told him I loved him, she thought suddenly.

A tortured moan escaped her and her fingers sank into the sheets as her heart constricted painfully. It was so unfair! Too much pain, too much loss! He'd meant everything to her; it was because of him she got up in the morning, because of him she'd made this business. Every day she looked forward to just seeing him, to hearing his voice. He was the most important thing in her life and she'd never told him how much he meant to her. This was supposed to be their life now, a new beginning! How could it end before they'd even started? What cruel joke would give her hope one moment then rip her heart out the next?

Why hadn't she told him she'd loved him!

"Cloud..." Her voice was a ravaged croak, forced past the spiny lump lodged in her throat. A deep breath only served for her to catch his lingering scent on the sheets, a cruel reminder of what had been lost. The tears came then, hot and fast, flooding down her cheeks, soaking the sheets.

She would never see him again, never see that cocky way he stood when he said everything would be okay, never see those blue eyes flash when she told a joke, never see the way he ducked his head whenever he felt shy. She'd never hear him laugh or say her name or listen to his heartbeat. She'd never again get to taste that kiss they had shared for one moment underneath the Highwind. She'd never, ever, get to tell him how much he'd always meant to her, how she lay awake some nights just thinking about him.

Come back, come back, come back! Her mind shrieked, thoughts writhing as much as her hands. This couldn't be happening, he couldn't be gone, she didn't know what to do if he was gone. She needed him back, needed him in her life, could not go on without him there. Exhaustion gnawed at her, but she couldn't sleep, could barely breathe, without Cloud here.

"Cloud..." she gasped between body-wracking sobs. Her hands clenched and unclenched in the sheets, as if grasping for something forever out of reach. "Please... come home..."

Several hours later...

A cold, metal hand shook her awake. Tifa's sore eyes opened reluctantly. Squinting against the morning light, she saw Barret bending over her, his face stern. "Barret," she tried to say, but her voice was still a mess and all that emerged was a strangled croak. She struggled to sit up and discovered she had fallen asleep on Cloud's bed. Had she pulled herself up onto the bed? She couldn't remember.

Barret steadied her with his flesh-and-bone hand. A warmth suffused her whole body and a faintly sparkling, green light shimmered over her flesh. The concrete burn on her flesh - which had broken open in some spots and had started bleeding again - faded way. The raw and sore feeling in her eyes faded and new energy coursed through her shaking limbs.

"Thank you," Tifa said through numb lips.

"Tifa, you gotta come out and see this," Barret said.

She glanced up at him and hope was kindled by the smile on his face. She grabbed his arm painfully, making him wince. She eased off. "Did you find him?"

The big man shrugged. "Dunno. But the street rats say they found someone at the ol' church in the slums."

Joy poured through every fiber of her being. "It's him. It can't be anyone else," she said and immediately started for the doorway.

A restraining metal hand closed on her wrist. Angry, she turned back to Barret, a withering command on her lips. "Tifa, you look like a mess. You oughta clean up before the kids see ya."

Flustered, she put a hand to her messed up hair, realizing how wild she must look. "You're right. Thank you, Barret."

She opened the door and peered down the hall. Children's voices echoed from downstairs, a heavy drawling voice keeping them entertained. Only one person she knew had an accent like that. She hoped Cid wouldn't swear too much around the kids.

Carefully stepping around the creaky board in the hallway, she went to the bathroom and once again met her reflection. There was still a shade of haunted desperation in the eyes, but a tenative hope was there too. Quickly, she washed her tear-streaked face and quickly took a brush to her hair. It took another few minutes to rub away the dried blood still clinging to her skin. When she was finally presentable, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and left the bathroom.

Barret waited for her outside and scrutinized her for a second before giving a curt nod of approval. Gesturing with one arm toward the stairs, he indicated that she go before him.

The kids ran to her when they saw her descending the stairs, Barret close behind her. "Tifa!" they chorused, and rushed to greet her as one. Smiling, she knelt and braced herself for their tackle-hugs. They immediately started chattering away at her in high speed, and she only caught every fifth word they were saying. Even so, what she understood made her eyebrows raise.

Cid gave her a broad smile, a smoking cigarette firmly clamped between his lips. "Good ta see ya, Teef." He gestured to Marlene and Denzel. "Kids seem to think there's someplace we should be."

Tifa gave him a wan smile. "Let's go." From what little she'd managed to gather from the kids over-excited message, there was something waiting for them in the slums... or someone. How they knew or who told them... well, she already had an idea about that. Once again, she gave silent thanks to her friend who had died, two years ago.

It took them a few minutes to get there. An airship makes fast time across a city - and locating the area the kids had talked about was no trouble. They only had to follow the stream of kids jumping and waving their arms at the airship as it passed over head. Even so, they weren't travelling nearly fast enough for Tifa, who had her hands pressed against the glass eagerly the entire time, biting her lower lip anxiously.

Cid expertly set down the HighShera in a wide open area not far from the church. Tifa had already vaulted over the edge of the small deck before the ship's belly kissed ground and was racing for the dilapitated church where Yuffie was waving to her from the door.

Tifa burst into the church, raced up to the pool of water where Vincent, Red, and Cait Sith waited and came to such a sudden halt she nearly fell into the water. She breathed a name.

There, floating on his back, eyes closed, was Cloud. Several kids had already waded into the water and were reaching for him. She knew damn well that she had checked this church several times last night and had not found a thing. Whatever power had put him there had only done so a short while ago and she wasn't going to question such providence. Instead, she mentally shouted her thanks to whoever may be hearing, but directed to one person in particular. Thank you, Aerith!

Tifa dared not even breathe, vaguely aware of the others joining her, as she watched in amazement as Cloud stirred, then stood up in the shallow pool.

He was alive.

What happened next was a happy blur. Cloud had looked up at the companions standing there and said something. She couldn't hear too well; her heart was pounding too loudly. When he approached the edge she knelt next to Denzel, murmuring soothing words. She knew she was smiling like an idiot but she couldn't care less.

He was alive.

After Denzel's miraculous cure, everyone started jumping into the water. For one heart-stopping moment, her eyes met his and she sent him a sloppy smile, not caring if others saw.

He was alive.

Then he focused on something behind her, his expression turning to one of astonishment, before he slowly smiled. Glancing over her shoulder, Tifa saw nothing. Shrugging, turning back to the pool, she realized that a great many people had already dove into the water, penning Cloud in.

Tossing all inhibition to the wind, Tifa jumped in as well and waded over to Cloud. Firmly moving aside any kids that were in her way, she went up to him and flung her arms around him, locking him in a tight embrace which he returned.

She closed her eyes and buried her face in the thick fabric of his shirt. Beneath her hands, she could feel his heart beating, and it felt so good. "I love you," she whispered. Though he couldn't have heard her over the cheering and the racket, his embrace on her suddenly tightened.

Tifa smiled and held onto him as though she would never, ever let go of him again.