Ah, here it is. It's the whopping finale to my story, and it is definitely the longest chapter. It (barely) surpasses the 8000 word mark, so, yeah, I'd say that's pretty darn long. Anyway, I know I left you guys hanging at the end of 19, so here's 20. It should wrap up our main characters and establish some newer things. Anyway, I know you guys are dying to read the ending, so enjoy!

Chapter 20: All We Need

The towering evil. Was Damian the towering evil? Was he the evil looming over Rude at this very moment, willingly going to take his life?

At that notion, Rude shook his head. There is no evil in this world; there are only men, who are capable of both good things and bad. Damian was a lost soul, wandering in the depths of time and space. He was a ghost, and Rude acknowledged that, accepting the inevitable fate that had befallen him.

The barrel was steady. There was neither shaking nor tension in Damian at all, signifying his sheer tranquility when holding the pistol up to Rude's face. One last change in Damian's eyes ignited his commitment in finishing Rude off. Damian didn't care

Damian's arm muscles tensed, and the finger began to pull the trigger.

Ring-ring.

Just like that, the flashing moment halted abruptly. The assassin looked down at his waist and noticed that his phone was ringing. With the gun still pointed at Rude, Damian postponed his murderous intent and grabbed his phone, flipping it open, and putting it to his ear.

Voices could be heard from the phone, but Rude couldn't make out what was being said. The indistinct voice was a woman's, though, and Damian made no attempt to exchange words with her. After she spoke, he closed the phone and stared back at Rude and Tifa. Tifa was holding Rude close, keeping her eyes shut, ready for anything that would happen. Damian dropped his aim and brought the gun to its holster at the side of his waist. Holstering the weapon, he made no effort to speak, and immediately reached into his jacket pocket. Pulling out what seemed to be a metal syringe, he pierced it into his thigh and injected the dose of medicine. Rude knew that those where condition injections, designed to stimulate and accelerate healing and recovery capabilities, along with pain suppression through its anesthetic properties. After tossing away the syringe, he pulled out a container full of them, and tossed it onto Rude's lap.

Then he turned away and began walking.

The hunter was leaving.

Rude weakly grabbed the container of syringes and took one out. However, he was losing energy and strength. Likely, he was slipping consciousness. The syringe began to slip out of his hand, but Tifa helped him grip it, sinking it right into his thigh. The syringe brought Rude's eyes wide open, and he was focused again. Tifa used one, too, and stood up, holding a hand to her wound and noticing the syringe's potency, for it was slowly beginning to seal. Reaching for her pocket to find a handkerchief or tissue, the tip of her fingers brushed against a cold, metal object. Her eyes widened with surprise and she grabbed the silver lighter that she picked out of Wolfe's purse. Immediately, she chased after the silhouette that was leaving the warehouse, leaving Rude behind to gather the strength to stand.

"Wait!" she yelled, hoping that Damian's aid was a gesture of neutrality. Hopefully, he wouldn't turn around and gun her down.

When she got outside, she was somewhat awe-struck by the sunlight that broke through the rain. It cast a beautiful light upon the dark district, but she didn't have time to admire it. Damian was already headed towards his car, still limping from the gunshot to his thigh earlier, though he was walking with full strength as if the wounds were nothing.

"Damian!" she called, at last using his name.

She saw him turn around and give her a glance through his sunglasses, and she became surprised by his lack of aggression in the expression. In fact, he looked quite approachable.

"Wait up," Tifa said with a slight smile as she ran over to him.

He was expressionless when she was within a few steps, and stood there, waiting for her to speak. Holding the lighter in her hand, she held it in front of him and kept a friendly attitude, which seemed to throw him off his guard.

"Uh," she began, having trouble finding the words.

Many things about Damian rushed through her mind, but what kept her from speaking was his relationship with Aerith. She couldn't ask him, though, because he doesn't remember.

"I think this lighter belongs to you."

She could see his eyes through the sunglasses as they dropped to meet the silver lighter in front of him. Accepting the lighter, all he did was nod. It was strange to see him act so silent, especially after her initial exchange with him at the hospital.

"Thanks," he muttered, and began to turn away.

"I stumbled upon it by chance," she added, causing him to face her again. "Uh…since you don't remember, I guess I'll just tell you. It was given to you by someone."

He nodded. "I know. That's why I keep it with me."

"How do you know?"

Damian shrugged. "I just know. Just because I can't remember things doesn't mean I don't understand them. It's complicated..."

She smiled. "I see."

"I apologize for this mishap," he then said. "If my client had changed the contract earlier, none of this would have happened."

"Oh…" she looked down. "Well, you always had a choice."

"No matter how many choices we've got, we're still bound by rules," Damian said. "It's our self-loyalty."

"But…you were bound to run into us when…when Rude got involved, right?"

Giving her a comforting smile, Damian grabbed the pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

"It was never my intention. But…"

He put the cigarette to his lips and lit the tip with the lighter, putting the lighter away and taking a drag of nicotine. Damian exhaled the smoke and smiled again.

"I got to you the same way the lighter did."

With those final words, Damian turned away and walked to his car, unlocking the doors. However, just as he was a few feet away from the vehicle, she had an urge to say something to him about Aerith.

"I heard about your mental issues," she called to him. "I read it in the file."

"Yeah?" he replied loudly. "What do you think?"

"Her name is Aerith," Tifa said. "The woman you keep dreaming about."

Damian took another drag and chuckled, shaking his head and looking down to the ground.

"What?" she asked, wondering what he was laughing about.

He walked to the driver's side of the vehicle and raised an eyebrow, shrugging off her recent statements.

"It won't matter."

"Write it down," she told him.

Damian shook his head. "It doesn't work that way."

Opening the door, Damian stepped inside and turned on the engine. He let the engine run for a few moments while he buckled his seatbelt and placed the flash drive in a secure spot. Turning on the windshield wipers, he let the wipers clean his windshield as he reached into the glove compartment and took out more syringes and some bandages. After quickly injecting the syringe, he realized that this was no place to apply the bandage and tossed it in the passenger's seat.

Damian looked back out the windshield and turned off the wipers that cleansed his view of the world. It wouldn't matter. It never did.

He was ready to shift into "drive," but he looked past the passenger's seat to see Tifa still standing there, watching him as if he were a captured and injured animal, like children at the zoo's new exhibit. He knew that all she wanted was some insight, much like him. Breathing out smoke through his nostrils, Damian opened the window to the passenger's side and Tifa's attention came back to him. She took a few steps so she wouldn't have to shout back a response if he spoke.

"Many times, the world changes when I close my eyes," he said to her. "When I wake up, I could find myself in a place I don't know. That's my world. And I can't change it if it keeps changing itself."

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "My world is quite bland."

"Bland, huh?"

"Mundane."

Damian gave her a smile and was finishing up the cigarette. "Good. That means you can still change things. You can change how you live."

Tifa nodded and thought about the many days she wasted sleeping on the couch at Seventh Heaven. "Thanks."

He chuckled. "Don't thank me. You haven't changed anything yet."

"Will we see you again? When you're not busy?"

Damian shifted to "drive" and kept his foot on the parking pedal. He finished up the cigarette and tossed it out the opposite window, looking back at her and shaking his head. She was just about as naïve as Rude was, he concluded.

Letting out a laugh, he looked down and his initial gesture turned into a nod. His laugh continued for another few seconds before he turned back to Tifa, neutral and reinvigorated.

"Get real."

Damian hit the gas and drove out of the driveway to the warehouse, leaving Tifa behind with a strange smile on her face, still unable to understand what was exactly on his mind. The car sped off into the distance, past the rail systems above and through the bleak town silently, as if a ghost came in and passed with the wind. In an instant, Damian was gone from her sights.

"What'd he say?" Cloud's voice emerged from behind, seemingly okay.

Tifa turned around and gave him a smile. "I don't think we'll see him again."

"He didn't try to hurt you?"

She shook her head. "No. He...I don't…"

"Understand?" Cloud finished her sentence.

"Yeah."

"Let's hope he doesn't show up again anytime soon," he said with a comforting tone, unusually at ease as he spoke to her. Usually, Cloud was more reserved and short on words, but he was actually comfortable next to her.

With Cloud next to her, Tifa abandoned all thoughts of Damian and Aerith and wrapped her arms around the spiky-haired warrior. He let out a grunt of pain as she did so.

"Ow," he groaned as she gripped him. "I'm still hurting, you know."

Letting him go, she smiled and looked into his eyes. "I missed you."

Returning a smile, he managed to nod and reply, "So did I."

It was strange now, that Cloud had finally been more approachable than usual. Yet, it was something that she found herself waiting for, and at the same time, she was still a bit skeptical. It was all talk. Cloud had to prove to her that he would never leave.

"Come on," she said, grabbing him by the hand. "We gotta go get Reno and Rude, then I'll take you to meet this interesting taxi driver."

"Taxi driver?" he raised an eyebrow.

Nodding, she dragged him back towards the warehouse. "Yep. But first we'll need to call paramedics."

Change. Damian encouraged change, and his words stuck with her. On top of that, Cloud was coming around, too, so things were looking brighter than ever. Tifa looked back at the empty road where Damian left, and smiled to herself. Change was all she needed.

Both he and Cloud were due for surgery soon, but he still stuck around to reflect on what had happened. Rude threw his suit jacket and dress shirt into the back of Reno's car and turned to face the scene, flooded with paramedics, cops, and detectives alike. Still limping from his closed up wounds, Rude walked over to the back of an ambulance that had just hoisted Cloud into the back. There was another one nearby that would be for him.

"You alright, Strife?" Rude asked. "How do you feel?"

Cloud looked and him and shrugged. "Like I've just been shot."

"Sorry I got Tifa dragged into this," he apologized. "It was never my intention."

"Save it," Cloud said, catching Rude by surprise. "We were all in this together. If it weren't for us, you would've been dead."

Nodding with a small chuckle, Rude proceeded to head over to the other ambulance. "I guess that's fair. I'll see you soon."

Making his way over to the small stretcher, Rude sat on it and ran a hand on his aching limbs while paramedics ordered him to take off his undershirt so they may clean his wounds. While he sat there, a pair of detectives came over to him and decided to question him. One was older than the other, but the younger one was more eager to investigate.

"Mr. Rude?" the younger one asked. "I'm Detective Carson. Uh, did you happen to get a look at the guy?"

The older one was smoking a cigarette and ignoring the two's conversation. Rude looked up at Detective Carson and sighed.

"I won't matter," Rude said. "Because you won't find him."

Carson let out a chuckle and shrugged. "I don't know…I'm pretty confident in my abilities as a detective."

"It's beyond your understanding, rookie," Rude said, reclining in the angled stretcher. "I'm sure your department will get a visit from the boys in black soon. Central City will give you the details."

"Government?" the rookie asked. "You're saying that this was government?"

Rude shook his head. "No. But it's a good idea to keep your mouth shut."

The older detective breathed out some smoke and turned to the two. He had a very weathered look on his face, as if he had done detective work for too long. A look of understanding could be seen, though.

"Come on, rook," he said to Detective Carson. "Let's get back to the station."

As the two detectives walked away from the unsuccessful questioning session, Rude rested his head down and waited for them to take him away. The rookie was quite eager, and it reminded him of his early days as a trainee. Such eagerness. Before he could be taken, though, a view of red hair walking towards him made him look back up. Reno walked around in his undershirt and approached his partner.

"I didn't know they had on-site stitching," Reno said, glancing at the new stitches he sported on his arms and body. "But, I'm pretty satisfied, yo. That syringe stuff is damn effective."

Rude nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"You okay?"

The bald man looked over to Tifa, who was talking to Cloud through the doors. Even after events like these, she looked happy and upbeat, and it made him glad to see her that way. For the first time, she didn't look drained, tired, bored, or even fed up, and was truly in a peaceful and content mood. Reno looked over to them, too, and returned his vision to Rude.

"So close, yet so far, huh?" his partner muttered with a laugh. "You gonna talk to her?"

Rude turned away and waited for the rest of the paramedics to finish up cleaning his wounds. "She looks happy. Let's keep it that way."

"Aw, don't be such a sucker," the redhead retorted with utter disgust. "You owe it to yourself to at least talk to her after taking a fucking bullet and shit for her."

Gloomily, the bald man looked down. "I am a sucker. I lost. I couldn't beat Damian."

Reno's initial light attitude in approaching his partner immediately expired when he noticed Rude's dismal mood.

"I think she's happier that you're alive, yo."

"I was stupid, Reno," Rude said. "I thought I could do it. I really thought I could do it. But in the end, I was a fool. I'm just really no one at all."

"Well, we fall so we rise again, bro," Reno said. "If you're still the Rude I know, you'll rise to the occasion in due time. All you need to do is change, right? If you've been a fool, then don't be one anymore. Simple as that."

"It wasn't just about hurting me, Reno. It was about killing me. Killing what I stood for. Damian may not have killed me, physically, but he sure has killed my motivation. I don't feel like doing anything useful anymore," Rude sadly mumbled.

"You can't be pissed at yourself forever," Reno added. "Because the world will still move while you don't. That's just how it is."

Rude sighed but refused to look up, instead giving a nod. "Yeah. Those are the rules."

"It's just you. They're your rules, yo. Change 'em how you like 'em. But you've got to accept that there are things in this world you can't control. You can only change and alter things, right?"

Silently laughing at the surprising insight given to him by his partner, Rude nodded and looked up. Damian's words as a VICE agent echoed through his ears. "Yeah. But first, I've got to be a part of the world in order to change it."

"If that's what's true, then fly with it," Reno said. "I think it's pretty simple for you to understand, yo. You're one of the most disciplined people I know."

Damian's words began flying through Rude's mind as if they were fresh memories.

"You have to take your time and let yourself grow a little older, a bit wiser, and a bit stronger. When you're good enough, you can finally change things, but the only way you can truly change the bad is when you have it inside you. My path transcends these crimes, Victor. You'll understand one day."

"You'll understand one day…" Rude quietly muttered to himself.

"You'll understand one day, Rude. You won't see it coming, but it'll be there."

When Rude finally understood why he had fallen, he immediately felt at home in this new world that had opened itself to him. At last, he embraced what he saw. Simultaneously, he felt as though he was leaving the past forever, and moving onward into the new world with a better view of the big picture. He realized now, that it was never about standing in what he believed in. With a word of thanks to his partner, Rude was hoisted up into the ambulance and the doors shut in front of him.

A look of revitalization could be seen on his face. He had finally gotten over himself and accepted his own capabilities as a human being. The weight on his shoulders was lifted, and the burden was no longer existent, allowing him to feel a sense of freedom that he found himself wanting for a long time. The battle with himself was over. Now, he could change things. Rude was no longer bound by the rules. He no longer had a fringe. He was limitless.

The flash drive was set ablaze when he had given it to her. The woman in the beautiful black dress gave him a nod and closed her purse after putting back her small incinerating device. The two stood in the back of an alleyway, just outside one of the fanciest restaurants in town. In the streets, cars whizzed by, driven by valets on one side and people on the other. It was three hours before midnight, but she decided to meet him out here anyway, excusing herself from her dinner at the expensive, extravagant restaurant.

Raven had thought he hired Damian to do the dirty work, but the ultimate client, a person from the government, had already paid his agency more than enough money to wipe out Raven, along with all the other VICE agents. When Raven thought he was in control, Damian knew it was his chance to catch him off-guard. What Damian didn't see coming was the call from his contact to spare Rude and his friends.

Exhaling a breath of smoke into the night air, Damian didn't look down at the flash drive, and instead looked at his agency contact. "So, is that it?"

She looked up at him and threw her purse around her shoulder. "I trust you didn't hurt anyone as our client requested?"

"That was a very late request," Damian commented.

"Did you hurt anyone?"

"Come on, Diane," he said with a smirk. "I always do as I'm told, so long as the price is right."

After giving him a soft smile, her face almost instantaneously dropped to one of disgust, giving him a pouting frown in the process. It was almost cute to him, actually.

"I don't suppose we can change a few things with your treatment," she said in a high-class manner, "since I find it awkward that you're having memory sessions now, and are addressing me in such a way with familiarity that it nearly brings me to a homicidal rampage."

"Glad to know that I'm driving you crazy," Damian said. "Love you, too."

"Cut the crap, Agent Hunter," she said. "How are the memory sessions?"

Memory sessions were the times in between missions that Damian was allowed to have alone, able to exercise his mind's recalling abilities in the short term. It was an attempt to keep him from losing his mind completely, and truly developing any form of amnesia.
He rolled his eyes. "Boring. I'm holed up in a hotel room all day. That's all I can remember, anyway."

"I assume you still want to proceed with the treatment."

Damian shrugged. "Whatever keeps me going."

For a moment, there was a silence in the air when the two found nothing to speak about his mission. Usually, at moments like this, they'd say their farewells and Damian would get a hotel room, then wait for more contracts later on. Not only that, but Diane also had a dinner to get to, so he found it odd that his contact would hang around for a bit longer than she had to.

"Is that it?" he asked.

"So," she said, "what were your thoughts on this contract? It was a true risk sending you in to meet people that you once knew."

"I didn't feel a thing."

"Really?"

"How much clearer can I get?"

Diane shook her head nervously and looked down. "Uh, no…it's…nothing."

"You're starting to scare me," Damian stated. "With your worries."

"I'm not worried."

"Yes, you are," Damian asserted. "I know. It's me."

She put her fingers up to her lips, covering them in an acute sense of concern. "How've you been doing? Do you still have the dreams?"

"Every now and then," Damian said, breathing out a puff of smoke. "But, thanks to those suppression pills, I think I'll do just fine."

"You shouldn't smoke. It's not healthy for you."

"It's the only piece of heaven between me and a massive breakdown."

She snatched the cigarette out of his hand. "I'm serious. Maybe you need those massive breakdowns. Suppressing emotions on top of memories won't help."

"I believe it was your idea," Damian added. "Who made you health expert all of a sudden?"

His hand came and gripped her wrist tightly, causing some stinging sensations to rush up and down her forearm. While she gave him a fretful gaze, her eyes gleaming under the moonlight that peeked into the alleyway, he grasped his cigarette back from her and took another drag. Her stare eventually wallowed and sank into a look of disappointment. She was actually worried for him.

"Damian, we rarely ever meet each other like this," she said. "But please, try to consider some of my words when I'm speaking to you in person rather than through a cell phone."

"I won't remember anyway," he said. "What's the point?"

"Stop the memory treatment, please," she told him. "It's not a regulation of our agency. You don't have to do it."

He shook his head an exhaled the smoke. "You should know what will happen if it all comes back to me at once. You'd have to kill me if that ever happened."

Sighing, she gave him a nod of concurrence and reached into her purse again, pulling out a card. The moment had just slipped past, and though she wanted to hang onto it for a bit longer, Damian had no intention to linger around the subject of his treatment.

"This is the card for your hotel room," she said, returning to her normal role as an agency contact. "You'll be in there for as long as it takes. I'll call you when we've got something new."

"Thanks," he said.

"You don't have to thank me every time," she replied. "You're the one who offers to take the contracts, anyway."

With a smile, Damian accepted the card and put it into his jacket pocket. "Well, if I don't thank you, you won't watch over me."

"Don't say that," she said. "I'll always watch over you."

Damian finished his cigarette and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. He gave her one last look before walking away, back into the world of nowhere.

"Remember that it was the client who paid to spare them," she said in reference to Rude and his friends, causing him to turn back. "Would you have killed them if I hadn't called you?"

He thought of the conflict with Rude, and tried to imagine the bald man's importance to his past. There were no memories and thoughts of his days as a VICE agent, so Rude's life meant nothing to him. The fact that the client paid to spare them also didn't move him to ask questions. He just didn't care. The contract was behind him now.

She could only see the hunter's silhouette as he looked at her one last time before leaving. It wasn't often that they met in person, so he tried to make each moment memorable, as ironic as it sounded. But, there was no irony in it for him, because she was the only person that he could remember, since she gave him constant details for upcoming contracts.

"Yes," he blankly stated.

She nodded and bit her lip. "That's all I wanted to know."

Though it was hidden in the shadows, he gave her a smile before leaving. "Good night, Diane."

Damian walked away, disappearing into the night while she stood there to contemplate about his condition. He walked to his car and started up the engine, his body still sore from the surgery that was given to him a day or so ago. However, his body was recovering quickly, and in a week or so he should be in shape to move again. Shifting to "reverse," he backed up and headed out the parking lot, hoping to get on the freeway so he could get to his hotel room.

While in heavy traffic, he thought about the name Tifa had given to him. Aerith. That was the woman's name. Though his memories of his dreams were vague, he considered her to be of importance to his past. However, he knew that he couldn't rely on himself for long. He'd have to administer the memory tablet when he got home, or rather yet, the hotel. Damian accepted it. He knew that he used to have affection for this "Aerith" woman, but he wanted to forget about it. In the end, all it would do was compel him to break off his treatment. Based on his own behavior, Damian imagined that his past was anything but pleasant. Thus, he hypothesized that if all the memories returned at once, it would rip his mind into shreds. He didn't want to care.

He could've loved Aerith during his last contract. It could have been a week ago, a year ago, or even something from his adolescent days. Neither his relationship with her nor Tifa's own knowledge of the woman would make him interested in making his own agenda. He wanted to stay lost in his own system; he didn't want to remember anyone. It was the only way he'd survive.

Damian took out another cigarette and grabbed the silver lighter. All it offered was a light to set the tip of a cigarette on fire. Though it was dim and misguided, it was all the light he needed.

He opened the window and breathed the smoke outside as traffic moved slowly along the freeway. When his impatience grew, he turned towards the next exit and searched for a different route, away from everyone who participated in the freeway. His vehicle was no longer on the normal path.

He stopped at the light and exhaled another breath of smoke. Looking at the rearview mirror, Damian saw nothing but a dark, empty street. It was as if the road behind him had nothing important; nothing significant that caught his eye. That was all that he needed. It didn't matter if he ever looked back at all. There was nothing there.

When the light signaled to go, Damian stepped on the pedal and headed towards his hotel somewhere in the city, ready to spend time relaxing alone in a place that sheltered him from the turbulent weather of time and space.

It was all he ever needed.

The last customer had just left and she was cleaning the tables. Today was quite busy for Tifa, but she was happy anyway and was ready to head home where Cloud should be arriving soon. She had to thank Yuffie for agreeing to watch Marlene and Denzel while they were gone, and she was planning to do it tomorrow. After wiping down the counter for the night, she turned around to wash the rest of the glasses.

Then, from behind, the door opened.

"Sorry, but we're closed," she said, not turning around.

"Oh really? I guess I should find some place else to spend my time."

The deep voice was a voice she missed hearing since he was at the hospital all this time. Tifa turned around to see Rude, and without even speaking, she quickly went over to him and threw her arms around him. With an expression of surprise, Rude returned her embrace and the two gave each other a good look.

"Did they just release you?"

He nodded. "They said I should be fine in a few days."

Tifa smiled and walked back around the counter. "What'll it be for you?"

Rude took off his shades and put them into his jacket. "The usual."

"Great," she said grabbing two cups and filling them up.

Passing one to him across the bar, she sipped on her own beer and leaned across the counter, lowering her face to meet Rude's while he began drinking his. He didn't feel discomfort in her gaze, and instead wanted to initiate a conversation to break the inevitable silence in the room.

"So, how've things been?" he asked. "It has been a week since."

"They've been great," she replied. "I've actually patched some things up with Cloud, and I'm just spending time with the kids."

"Sounds like things are finally working out for you, huh?"

Tifa nodded and took another drink. "Yeah. They are. I'm finally making some changes, you know? I want to make the best of this."

"That's how it should be," he added positively.

"I do have a question, though."

"Mm?"

"Who is the cab driver?" she asked. "I forgot to ask Reno about it."

Rude raised an eyebrow. "You've been talking to her?"

"On occasion," she replied. "We've spoken a few times now. It's really…strange."

"She is a lot like her, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is. Is her name really Eva?"

Shaking his head, Rude took another sip of his beer and set the glass down. "No. She has to remember her name, first."

"And that's Aerith, right?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Rude said. "She's yet to figure that out herself."

"Did Rufus find her or something?"

Rude shrugged, having trouble finding the answer. "I guess. He never told us where. But he has some suspicions as to where she came from."

"And where?"

"Well, so far, he knows that she's a byproduct of another project. We called it Project EVA. EVA 209 was tattooed to the back of her left shoulder when we found her. It's probably a government project…we still don't know. Basically, the cab driver you know is Aerith's doppelganger," Rude said.

Tifa looked down. "A doppelganger…"

He sipped the beer again. "Yeah. I don't think she's related to Aerith in any way, but she certainly looks like Aerith, she talks like Aerith, and even has extremely vague memories that were Aerith's. Somehow, her mind is completely adjusted to be like her. She just has trouble remembering certain things and people."

"So she's not Aerith…"

"I don't think she's the Aerith you once knew, but she's Aerith in several ways," Rude said. "I don't know if she was created or anything."

"Created?"

Rude shook his head. "No, forget it. I think she was put through psychotherapy. I think that woman used to be someone else. As to why she was created, I don't know. Rufus suspects that the government wants to create an artificial Cetra, but so far these are just cold speculations."

"But wouldn't the government come after you guys if you have her?"

"Nope. She's been long-abandoned by her makers," he answered. "We just took her in and gave her a home. We've just been trying to help her regain her memories. She could still have memories of what happened to her, or she might dig up memories of Aerith. I've got no idea what'll happen. In a way, I guess she's a lot like Damian right now."

Tifa ran a hand through her hair and tried to think a bit more about this artificial Aerith. "Can she build memories?"

"Yeah, of course," Rude said. For a moment, the two were silent, but when he finished gulping down the rest of his beer, he looked up with a thoughtful expression. "Hey, you know what? Why don't I convince Rufus to have her go out a bit more? She spends some nights driving people around, but aside from that, she's always held in some room and going through mind exercises. Maybe spending time with you guys can help her out just a bit more."

"You'd do that?"

"Sure, why not? I think it's a great opportunity to have someone like her around. Maybe she can help you with the bar or something."

Tifa clasped her hands together and shared his sudden enthusiasm. "I think that sounds great. Should I still call her Eva, though?"

He shook his head. "Nah. We call her Aerith."

"Why'd she call herself Eva, then?"

"Tseng directed her to help you out, actually," Rude said. "Reno must've called Tseng for help. He probably didn't expect him to send her. She was probably told to hide her name from you."

Setting down his glass, Rude watched Tifa take her time with her drink. She finished her glass of beer and took the two over to the sink. The sink was still loaded with several glasses and plates, so it looked like there was work to be done. Rude took of his jacket and unbuttoned the cuffs on his dress shirt, pulling the sleeves up to his elbows and walked over next to her, catching her by surprise as he began to wash the dishes with her.

"Wha…you don't have to help…"

"But I want to," he said, rinsing a few cups.

"No, really, Rude…don't…"

"Hey," Rude then said, catching her look. "You didn't listen to me when I told you to stay at the hotel and wait for Reno. You offered help that I—at the time—didn't really require. So, this is the least I can do, right?"

Stubbornly, he continued to wash the cups while she gave him a bewildered look, shocked by his boldness. Gradually, though, she felt some warmth in his intentions, and stood close to him, finishing up her side of the sink.

"I feel bad for Damian."

"So do I," he said. "But, we can't change the world, can we?"

"No, I guess not."

"I was foolish back there. I shouldn't have chased after Damian in the first place. But, you know, since I survived, I think I'll make a few changes," he then added. "I'll spend my time preserving what I already have, while finding new and better things to add to my life."

She looked up at him. "Like…?"

"Well," he paused. "You, I guess. I don't usually talk to others that much, but I think I'm pretty comfortable talking to you. I sound comfortable, don't I?"

"You sound a lot more comfortable than when you first talked to me a couple of weeks ago," she giggled. "But do you really mean that?"

Rude nodded with sincerity. "Yeah, definitely. I think you're one of the most interesting people I've ever met."

Tifa gave him a look of slight ridicule. "No, you're flattering me."

"You had a weird dilemma, though," he said. "I guess running into you helped you work it out, right? And you really helped me along the way. Not many people do that."

Her expression fell into one of warmth when he spoke his words of appreciation. Seldom did people ever thank Tifa for truly helping them, but Rude's words truly meant something beautiful to her.

"Oh…"

"And I forgot to thank you," he said. "So, thank you."

She smiled sweetly, but still had a hint of conflict within her. "No problem…that's what friends are for, right?"

Inside, Rude felt as if he was still intruding, but he wanted to tell her how he felt. But, he found himself restricting the way he truly felt about her, because he knew that things wouldn't work out. Instead, he wanted to tell her things that were best for her. It was the only way he could preserve his own self-honor in the process.

"I think you and Strife should step up your relationship," Rude then said, breaking off her initial train of thought. "You two have history together."

She had thought that he was going to say something else, but she gave him a bittersweet smile in return. "Yeah…we'll figure something out…"

They finished up the plates and Rude wiped his hands on a dry towel. The unusual silence from Tifa gave him a strange feeling. He hadn't turned around yet, but instead stood up and put his hands on the counter with his back to her. Rude knew what she was thinking, and it was on his mind, too. He knew why he came into the bar in the first place. He saw that she was lonely, and needed someone to talk to, but now that things have worked out, Rude wanted to turn his back on her so he wouldn't ruin something that was beautiful.

"Tifa…" he started, still not turning to her.

She didn't answer, but instead kept an eye on him. Her insides were swirling, and an influx of various emotions was going to surface.

Rude turned around and looked at her, seeing the conflict in her eyes. She loved Cloud. He didn't want to wreck their relationship. Instead, he encouraged it, and hopefully preserve his friendship with her, even though he wanted more.

"I…" he sighed.

She walked up to him, close enough to cause some discomfort. Tifa reached for his tie and grasped it, pulling him down close to her face.

"Don't do that…" he said with nervousness. "Please…don't…"
Her hand caressed his face, and she slowly drew close to him for a kiss. The moment was too quick as he backed away, leaving her wanting more as she pressed herself against him, heart rate increasing gradually. When he couldn't stop the situation from escalating anymore, Rude let down his guard, submitting to her will, allowing his desire to overtake him. He wrapped his hands around her and locked his lips with hers, not caring about her relationship or his own foolish rules.

She began unzipping her black vest, and he took off his tie. After they undressed, the two allowed themselves to share their affections with one another, both seizing the moment to have each other that night. His hands ran through her hair and she gripped his strong, muscular arms when they went into the back room and onto the couch. He could smell her enticing, seductive scent as he pulled her close, caressing his hand down the curve of her back as her breathing quickened. Whispers of desire, groans of hunger, and cries of pain and pleasure escaped from her throat as he gave her a sensation that was long-needed. Their bodies had joined for the first time, and Tifa never imagined that Rude would be this satisfying.

They were lost in the night, and in each other.

After it was over, Rude put his dress shirt back on as she fixed her skirt. Clearing his throat, he walked over and grabbed his tie, quickly throwing it around his neck and tying it hastily, yet skillfully. She smiled when he threw on his jacket, looking just like he did when he walked in. Tifa walked up to him and gave him a kiss before he was ready to leave.

Holding his hand, she walked him out the door and to his car after locking the bar, because she was ready to leave as well. They stood under the street light and watched a few cars whiz by, keeping the street alive every few minutes or so.

Crossing her arms, she kept an eye on him to see if he'd say anything.

"I don't know if it would work," he said. "Between us. I'm not sure…"

Tifa smiled and watched him unlock his car. "I don't know, either."

"I can't run with you, Tifa," he said. "Strife needs you. He needs you more than ever."

She nodded. "I know."

It looked as though he smirked as he opened his door. "I guess I'll see you some other time."

"Thanks, Victor," she said, giving him a soft smile. "If you hadn't walked into my bar, I…"

"Don't," he said. "I'm happy for you."

He knew that it wouldn't work. Tifa was from another world, and his own perception of reality kept him from staying with her. There were circumstances he couldn't run against.

Before he left, she stopped him. "Will you be around?"

Rude looked at her for a moment. If he couldn't be with her, then he knew that he should at least try to maintain a strong relationship with her. It was all he could offer her, and all she could offer him.

Visibly, his lips turned into a smile, completely catching her by surprise. Rude leaned towards her and gave her a kiss.

"I'm always around," he whispered to her ear before drawing away and entering his car.

Tifa smiled to his response as he drove away into the distance. The truth was, Rude was always around. He never left on some other business, or even on personal issues. Rude was always keeping those close to him as a first priority. It was admirable.

Rude kept driving, but looked at the rearview mirror and watched Tifa enter her vehicle as well. Maybe things could turn out good for him one day, but until that day, Rude would try to better himself in any way that he can, and spend more time building longer relationships with other people. He stopped at a light and looked at the rearview mirror again.

There were many things. People still walked around at this time of night, and they were happy, moving, and loving. Couples held hands together and friends shared jokes while walking down the sidewalks. Cars behind him played music and listened to the radio, all probably heading home when the clock hit midnight. The road behind had many things that made him feel comfortable about himself; things he couldn't forget.

Rude looked at the road ahead when the light signaled to go, keeping the thoughts of Damian, Tifa, and other things in his mind.

The new world was looking better than ever. He was given a chance.

It was all he ever needed.

So here we are. We're at the end of the road. The ride's been a bit crazy, hurtful, and even unforgiving at times, but I hope you enjoyed reading this story. Just to let you know, I'm not leaving aspects towards the end to hang. I've got ideas for another project. Say…a sequel? In a way, it's not really a sequel, but it'll build off the storyline after this one.

Additionally, I've already written a chapter for this "sequel," so I hope you guys have me on author alert or something if you want to find out when I release it. The only information I'll give you is that the main character in the next one will probably be Damian. I was very much wrapped into his character, evolving him from just a plain ol' bad guy to this mentally careless wreck of a person. He should be interesting to work with.

Anyway, I'd like to know your thoughts about this story, so please leave a review if you can. If you want to ask me what a lot of it is about, or the "main idea," then go ahead and ask me. Other than that, I hope you guys will read my sequel once I post it (don't know when). Just to let you know, the sequel will be exercising some new things, so it won't be written with the same theme-heaviness such as this one.

A special thanks to BJ Louis for giving me some of the best reviews I've ever had, and sticking with me all the way. At times, the reviews truly inspired me to finish chapters I had trouble finishing, so…thank you very much.

Well, the story's always here if you readers ever want to come back to it. If, one day I feel compelled, I'll come back and edit some parts of the story. Thanks to all who read the story, and I will see you next time.