A/N: I'm trying to put these out more regularly so every chapter will be under 2000 words for the moment. Sorry to everyone who enjoys longer reads. If there are any inconsistencies with the timeline or details, do let me know. Hope you enjoy!

8.

After Tifa had closed up the bar and assured him she was fine to clean up the rest by herself, Cloud made his way back upstairs. He dropped by the bathroom and peeked in on the kids to make sure they were asleep, but hesitated in front of his own door.

He wasn't nervous about her staying here per se because she posed a potential threat. He'd discussed it again with Tifa and agreed with her view on things. It was more that this woman made him edgy because of their similarities. He'd been stoic and guarded for a long time, been just as ready to engage in battle. He'd done everything to survive and he sensed that she shared that with him too.

It was all just very puzzling, her sudden appearance here. Although he believed her story, it was impossible to wrap his head around it. Another world out there? This talk about godly beings that ruled with immense power sounded a little too close for comfort. Then again, Jenova had never been a god and Sephiroth, no matter his powers, had been mortal too.

But even if that Cocoon place existed, why had this woman been transported to the Planet? An imbalance of magic? A rift in space and time? Or could there truly be someone who had the power to tear her away from there? He'd speculated but everything seemed too metaphysical. The lifestream had its own way of working, one that he would never be able to understand.

He finally opened the door as quietly as possible. Lightning was a lump under the covers, her back turned to him and as he observed her regular breathing, he figured she truly was asleep. He did raise an eyebrow at the sight of her hand loosely circling the hilt of her sword, even in unconsciousness. He should have expected that.

Kicking his boots off, he sat on the edge of his bed. He tugged at the zippers of his vest, slipping it off along with his socks and belt before lying down. It was an unusual feeling to have someone in his proximity after spending the nights in solitude for so long. The church had always been deserted, so being back in this home was strange enough.

In the silence, he listened as Tifa's footsteps ascended the stairs and disappeared into her room. He could pinpoint exactly where she paused on the landing, surely throwing a look at his door before continuing. Then, there was only the soft inhales and exhales of the woman on the floor.

He'd been sure of his words when he'd uttered them earlier, but really, he had no idea if they could help her. This wasn't about saving the world but he still felt that pressure to do right by this stranger. She fascinated him and at the same time, it was obvious she had no desire to be here. She wanted to go home and he could understand that.

He kept an eye on her for some time before his body began to demand rest. As he drifted off, he tried to imagine the world she came from, coming up only with the image of a floating orb. Then, the darkness grew absolute.

He felt it more than he saw it. At first, it was foreboding in the air, like a tingle on the back of his neck. The moment he wanted to turn towards it though, the cold sting of metal in his shoulder threw him off his feet, twisting underneath the collarbone. His strangled cry was of surprise and pain, of frustration that he hadn't seen that attack coming. It was all he could do to not drop his sword, hand clenching around the blade that speared him.

Is this the pain you felt?

His friends' smiling faces stood around him for a second before melting away into mangled bodies, scattered on the ground as he struggled against the sword. Everything he feared was coming to pass in front of his eyes as he hung, immobilized. His arm felt boneless as he tried to swing the sword upwards. The ghost in his mind responded by slamming him into the ground, concrete cracking while the blade came to rest under his chin.

Tell me. So I can take it away from you.

He rolled away, slicing his cheek in the process, kicking out with his foot to unbalance the enemy but finding only air. His own sword had disappeared in the fray and the body count around him was growing, more and more nameless people staring at the sky, sightless. Black liquid oozing from every single neck, every dead face. His own arm ached in response and he took a beat to look at the bare skin. It grew dark with the stigma, spreading down the limb.

I want you to beg for forgiveness.

This time the slashes came from everywhere at once and he was left unarmed, fending off the blade with nothing but his arms. Blood streamed into his eyes, disorienting him as he ducked and rolled around an unseen threat. Only sensations were tearing at his body but without a physical source to defend himself from. He groaned in agony as the sword ran through him from behind, his abdomen soaking red.

I will never be a memory.

Even as he collapsed, his arms a bloody mess, the onslaught didn't stop. All he could see next to him now were the pale faces of Marlene and Denzel. Their eyes glowed in a striking green with slit pupils, staring but unseeing as they lay in the stigma's grip amongst the dead. Then his face was wrenched around again, long gloved fingers digging into the wounds on his face and he had no choice but to look.

In all the carnage, Sephiroth was immaculate. His face was calm, completely under control despite the satisfaction in his eyes and that chilled Cloud to the bone, almost drowning out the physical pain. Then, the corners of SOLDIER's mouth turned upwards in a telling smile. It was the last thing he saw before the sword sliced open his heart.

He awoke to his own staggering breaths and a stinging heat on his face, bolting upright immediately. In the motion, he narrowly missed the woman sitting on his bed who was wearing an annoyed expression. She seemed to let out a sigh as he hunched over, panting, still returning to the present.

"There, you're finally awake," she huffed and as his racing mind started to come out of the dream, he realized she must have hit him in an attempt to wake him. He couldn't speak yet, trying to push away the fiction from the real. His body felt like it had just taken all those blows and he had half the urge to check on everyone in the house.

"Sorry," he pressed out. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily.

"What the hell was going on there?"

"Just dreams," he shook his head, not looking at her while he pressed his hands against the covers. There was no familiar, radiating stigma pain. He needed to regain composure. What an idea it had been to let her stay here when he knew these nightmares were still plaguing him.

Ice blue eyes shone at him in the dimness, narrowed at the banal explanation. "One hell of bad dream then. You sounded like you were being murdered in there."

He didn't feel like confirming or denying that, probably because she'd hit the nail exactly on the head. Here he'd thought he was one to suffer in silence when he was asleep. When he had told Tifa about not sleeping well, he'd been glad when she hadn't insisted on continuing the subject. He'd hoped that final battle brought him peace of mind but the last couple of days had made it obvious that the memories stuck. Trauma wouldn't be erased so quickly.

Lightning was still there, waiting for a response. When it became clear he wasn't willing to talk about it or acknowledge her words further, she moved to sit against the wall on the opposite side of his bed, crossing her arms.

"What are you doing?" he asked, raising a tired gaze to her.

"I haven't slept a minute because there are a hundred more important things on my mind and if you are just going to thrash and yell all night, you might as well stay up too before you wake everyone else."

So much for his judgement that she was fully unconscious. Either she was very good at simulating or he was losing his touch. She did have a point though, there was not much sense in trying to fall asleep again – he knew he'd just resume the same pattern from the previous nights where he slept restlessly after the worst of it, waking regularly with paranoia creeping up his back and less rested than before. He hated that these fears were getting the best of him but hadn't figured out how to stop it yet.

"Maybe," he conceded, drawing his legs up and resting his arms on his knees.

There was a stretch of silence between them until Lightning spoke up again, evidently determined to use the time productively to find out more about her location. "So, is everything on this planet such a wasteland? No offense but this isn't a place I'd pick to live."

He could see why she thought that, considering she was missing a lot of the history from this area. The question was good; it made him focus on other things. "It's mainly like that around Midgar. The mako here…the Shin-Ra Company was harvesting it and their reactors drained the energy from the Planet for power. That's over now but nobody knows if the land will recover from what they took. There are other places – Kalm and Wutai, Costa del Sol at the sea. They're different. More lively, I guess."

She seemed to not quite see the connection, her brow furrowing in confusion. "So why stay here? Is this your hometown?"

"No, I come from Nibelheim. It was destroyed years ago," he replied and took a moment to think about her question, "Edge was a way to start over. The people from Midgar needed a future and we wanted to help rebuild those lives after the city collapsed. Tifa opened the bar as a place for everyone to meet and forget their problems for a while. Business picked up so fast that leaving never came up."

She didn't look convinced. "Come on. You know how to fight so you must have been trained or working with military. If you're a soldier, then your job is to keep people safe. How do you throw that away to serve drinks?"

It was his turn to shrug as he followed her logic. "There's nothing left for us to fight now. Everyone is busy rebuilding; the few monsters across the country are no threat. There's the WRO if you're looking for organized forces but I work better alone."

"Right. When you're awake," she responded and he threw her a sharp look, "It doesn't look like peace time is for you."

He didn't see how she could be making that judgement, having known him for the lesser part of a day. "What?"

"If you're not busy doing, you start thinking. I did that for a long time – I joined the military; I learned how to be good at what I do and kept moving, trying to grow up fast. When you stop and get inside your head, start thinking about the past, that's when things go wrong. I learned that the hard way and…let's say I was lucky enough to have the right friends there for me."

Running all the time, just like he'd been doing. There were almost too many parallels, even if he only knew the barest things about her. "So what's in your head?"

"My regrets."