CHAPTER XI

THE SACRIFICE

She walked on in silence, mechanically putting one foot in front of the other as she followed Rude and Elena into the elevator. As the glass chamber fell swiftly downwards, Tifa could see the petite Turk shooting poisonous glances her way every few moments, as if she wanted to make it pointedly obvious that the brunette's offers of help hadn't in any way erased the animosity between them. That it was a one-sided hatred gave Tifa only the faintest tinge of regret, a bruise among the breaks and tears. Her heart was top-filled with grief, and there was simply no more room in which to nurture forgiveness and pity for this enemy-turned-ally.

And in the chilled atmosphere of the elevator, between one floor and the next, Tifa suddenly found herself caught up in a desperate struggle. It was not a physical battle, however...it was one much more difficult to grapple with. Too many hurts had gone untended, and now, with no friends around her and nothing to distract her thoughts, the young woman fought for control over her wounded heart. In the battles at the Northern Crater and on the deck of the Highwind, there had been a sense of finality in the air, as if for good or evil, this would be the last; their last war, their last struggle, their last effort. But then, to be hurled backwards in time - or perhaps into another dimension - and set upon a new journey with perhaps even greater consequences...she'd wondered fearfully if this would be the task at which her strength and optimism would fail. And the desperate days spent trying to change fate, to cheat death, to save Aeris...only to lose Cloud. Tears welled up in Tifa's eyes, and she shut her lids tightly. Leaning back against the elevator wall as if merely resting, she let out a trembling sigh and fought to still her shaking.

There had been no time to grieve, and so the healing process that only time could complete had been constantly pushed back, away, aside. Avalanche had been constantly in battle or on the move. When they hadn't been on the move, their minds had been caught up in trying to solve impossible puzzles and answer hypothetical questions. And when necessity forced a rest, she and her companions had fallen into a deep slumber where even dreams were too exhausting to wrestle with. And so she hadn't mourned him.

She had screamed until her throat was raw and then she had screamed some more. She had sobbed and cried until her breath gave out and her vision swam with hazy shadows. But after that first, violent reaction there had been nothing. She had been numb, then angry, and then there were hurtful words from a hurting heart followed by a blind flight away from those who had been suffocating her with their sympathy. Comfort from those who had lost the same man she had, understanding from long-time companions, an empathetic love and reaching out from her friends...it was exactly what she'd needed and yet she hadn't wanted to allow herself to grieve. The pain was so fresh, it was like the shock of a deep wound. A horrid, hideous wound that she could not bear for anyone to touch, to see, to speak of.

If I don't think about it, maybe it will go away.

A child's first and sometimes last defense against the monsters under the bed. A SOLDIER's desperate, delirious hope as his life bled away. And Tifa's stricken denial of Cloud's death.

There had been no time to grieve, and so the pain and anger and regret had built up within her until now, at this inauspicious moment, Tifa found herself fighting against the urge to collapse on the floor and wail out her grief until she had no more tears to weep. Who cared if Rude thought she was nothing but a weak-minded fool? Who cared if Elena sneered at her pain? What difference if the Turks went to face Hojo on their own? Cloud was dead.

The monsters they'd killed, the people they'd kept safe, the criminals they'd punished...what did it all matter? Cloud was dead.

She wanted to fall into someone's arms, she wanted to cry and be comforted, she wanted to unburden her too-heavy heart...but she couldn't. Cloud was dead.

There had been no time to grieve...just as there was no time now. There was no time, this was not the place, and there were not and would never again be the arms she sought. Still leaning quietly against the elevator wall, Tifa pushed away at the tempting vision of herself curled up on the floor with her head in her arms, the mental exercise almost a habit by now.

Take a deep breath, clear your mind, prepare for the battle ahead. No time to look back, no time to think, no time to waste; we're going to fight Hojo. You have to stop him, keep the Sister Ray from overloading, keep Sephiroth from calling Meteor

...the Diamond Weapon...

Her thoughts, more coherent now and under control, paused for a moment at the memory of the glittering white, biomechanical monster. It had waded through the ocean with the same ease of a child sloshing through puddles after a spring rain, heading straight for Midgar on its individual mission to protect the planet. Avalanche, ironically with much the same mission, had fought the Weapon before it had reached its target, and then...

A soft "ding!" announced that the elevator had reached its destination, and Tifa blinked a few times in surprise as she realized that at some point in her mental struggles, she had stood up straight once more and opened her eyes. The brunette found herself staring blankly at the doors, which opened with a faint inrushing of air, and automatically stepped out with her two companions. Rude led the two young women down a series of hallways, and as Tifa glanced around, she found herself on an unfamiliar floor.

"Where are we?" she asked with a half-hearted curiosity, directing her question to the expanse of blue fabric in front of her.

Elena, who was following her - perhaps not trusting the martial arts expert enough to let the girl out of her sight - said shortly, "None of your business."

But perhaps Rude didn't catch his partner's comment, or he chose to ignore it, for he replied quietly to Tifa's query, "Twentieth floor. There's an express elevator in the back room to the service tunnels for the train system. Fastest way."

Tifa nodded to herself and then noted with a growing sense of relief that the sensation of an impending emotional breakdown had passed. Her heartbeat had slowed - not to normal - but to a rate that bespoke only the usual pre-battle tension instead of a panic attack. Her breaths were even and deep, helping to further center her mind.

That's right, that's it...just concentrate on now, the situation, the battle.

...the battle.

Tifa frowned as she recalled as many details as she could of Hojo's last minutes. In her past, Hojo had injected himself with Jenova cells, thereby giving him the ability to metamorphose into something quite unrecognizable as human. She wondered how much of the brilliant, erratic scientist's mind had remained in the twisted lump of flesh he had become in the end. And more importantly, she wondered how important foreknowledge of Hojo's self-experimentation might be in this upcoming battle.

For Cloud, Vincent, and herself, it had been a hard but not impossible battle. The three of them had traveled together for so long and fought side by side in so many battles that they had made a formidable team. Cloud's shouted orders had been immediately obeyed, his leadership by now unquestioned, which meant that almost no time had been lost trying to figure out tactics. And they had worked smoothly together, always defending each other when necessary and healing each other's wounds almost as soon as they'd been inflicted.

But instead of a mercenary and an ex-Turk, she now had two current Turks flanking her. Moreover, they were two Turks who had until just recently been hunting her and her friends - or at least their counterparts - with the intent to kill them. She had no doubt that Elena and Rude could fight, and fight well, but against a Jenova creature...she wanted the assurance of a tried and true team. Grimacing at the clarity of her hindsight, Tifa found herself wishing for the umpteenth time that she had not left her companions.

These thoughts preoccupied her mind in the express elevator, through the dusty service tunnels, and up two flights of metal stairs, but as soon as her feet touched down on the platform where Hojo stood, her mind cleared entirely. For a young woman who had dedicated so many lonely hours to learning the the arts of hand-to-hand combat, who had come to rely upon her fighting skills as some rely upon security systems and guards, who had fought more battles than some battlions had ever seen, getting ready to fight was by now a fully automatic process.

If only a monster had come crashing through the glass of the elevator while she had been so close to breaking down, she need not have struggled with her inner demons. As it was doing now, her mind would have immediately cleared of everything except for what information and thought processes she needed in order to do battle. Tears would have been dashed away so that she could focus upon her target, and her fists would have raised at once, with her body falling into the familiar battle stance she always used, distributing her weight evenly and using gravity and focus to anchor her to the ground.

Fighting was about staying on your feet, both mentally and physically.

"Professor Hojo! Step away from the control panel!" Elena shouted, stepping to the front of the team. Although a chill wind blew constantly here on the exposed platform, her voice carried strong and clear. Tifa regretted losing the element of surprise, but she hadn't been able to think of a way to effectively convince the two Turks to simply rush a member of their Board of Directors and murder him. Elena and Rude had no way of knowing that Hojo was now infused with the power of Jenova, nor could they have guessed at his true intentions. To be perfectly honest, so many things had gone awry in this timeline that Tifa had to consider the possibility that the scientist she was now looking at was still 100% human, and would be subdued with no more than a blow or two from Rude's capable hands.

Yeah, sure...life was that easy.

Elena's command was utterly ignored - probably bruising the blonde's pride a bit - and the figure at the controls continued to wreak mechanical havoc with the aid of various levers and buttons. One hand dropped down to her waist, and Tifa assumed that a pistol was being loosened from its holster. "This is a direct order from the President!" Elena shouted anew. "Step away from the control panel!"

Hojo continued to behave as if he were deaf, leaving Tifa to wonder if the tried and true "or else" threat would be delivered next. And then, instead of the impassioned pleas and horrified questions that Cloud had given voice to once upon a time in a far-off future, Tifa was treated to an object lesson from the Turk Handbook.

There were certain predictabilities about battles between humans. Threats were exchanged, with an oft-proved rule that the more ridiculous the threat, the weaker your opponent. Bluffs were made, which was simply a verbal way to play the game of chicken. And if the situation called for it, warnings were given, sometimes just once, but if there was time, in sets of three.

Unless you were a Turk. Then there were no threats or bluffs, nor yet explanations or entreaties...only commands. And the second warning was also the last chance. After that, woe to he who disregards authority, especially the kind that comes in a blue suit.

Tifa barely had time to register the swift movement of Elena's arm before the sharp retort of a pistol crackled through the air. A hundred feet away, Professor Hojo suddenly jerked and then slumped forward onto the control panel, a dark stain spreading over the right shoulder of his formerly pristine lab coat. As if the shot had been a signal, Rude and Elena immediately began running towards the wounded scientist, with one surprised Avalanche member following close behind.

As they closed in, Tifa could see their intended target begin working at the controls and dials before him once more, his right arm now hanging uselessly by his side. As one portion of her mind clinically noted that Elena's shot had most likely severed the brachial nerve in Hojo's shoulder, another part asked rather incredulously if it was really going to be this easy.

As she caught the baleful glares that the mad scientist threw at them as they approached, she decided that it was not.

Rude was the first to reach the control panel, his long limbs carrying him several steps ahead of his companions. As he clamped one heavy hand down onto Professor Hojo's bloodstained shoulder, the "useless" arm suddenly came to life, swinging upwards to deal a blow directly to the Turk's chest. The two women behind him stopped dead in their tracks and watched unbelievingly as Rude was lifted into the air and flung over their heads, landing heavily a few feet behind them.

Elena quickly stepped backwards toward her fallen companion, pistol in hand once more and her eyes trained warily on the suddenly wraith-like man wrapped in a bloodstained lab coat. As the blonde knelt by her groaning partner and administered a potion, Tifa stayed where she was, eyes narrowing and staring hard at Hojo's right hand. It hung down by his side once more, rivulets of blood tracing the contours of his flesh and dripping off of the ends of his fingers, quiet and still compared to Hojo's other hand, which was busily flipping a series of levers. It was pale and ghastly compared to the bright red blood, and the tips were stained with a dark, purplish substance that Tifa hoped was iodine. And it also seemed to be five inches lower than it should have been.

With a last few furious jabs at a keypad, Hojo turned towards his attackers, sneering contemptuously. "You pathetic fools!" he cried into the wind, "Did you really think you could stop us? Did you really think you could stop ME?!" A manic laugh pealed from his lips, and Tifa shivered. The setting was unearthly...high steel over a weapon of previously unimagined proportions, ominous clouds roiling overhead, and a madman standing before them, laughing at their struggles as the wind whipped at his gory clothes.

And the fingers of his right hand were now eight inches long.

"You're nothing!" Hojo suddenly screeched, "Nothing! This entire company, nothing but fools and whores hungry for power that they could never understand! My son! Only my son is worthy to hold real power! The power of the planet!" His left hand, still resting on a lever, suddenly jerked it down, and then Hojo finally stepped away from the control panel, which began to spark pure white arcs of electricity and emit a slowly climbing mechanical moan.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Tifa saw Elena and a fully recovered Rude step up beside her, one on each side. There were confused and slightly shaken murmurs...

"What is he talking about?"

"Oh my God, his arm..."

Hojo raised his arms above his head as if beseeching the heavens...or more appropriately, as if summoning demons from the storm brewing above him. His wounded shoulder seemed to bother him not at all, nor did the fact that his right arm was now hideously mutated seem to register in his mind. A full foot and a half of extra limb now protruded from the sleeve of his coat, and underneath the corpse-white skin, the bones of his wrist and hand seemed to be shifting and growing, moving about underneath his skin like rats in a blanket. Cracking his lips open in an inhuman smile, he cried out, "Now witness MY power!"

Rude stepped forward with his fists raised and a determined look set on his face, and Elena raised her pistol, but Tifa grabbed them both and shook her head.

"You'll never beat him that way," she said plainly. "He's injected himself with Jenova cells, and it's going to take more than hand-to-hand combat to defeat a Jenova creature." Finally tearing her eyes away from the shifting, changing form before them, she asked in an urgent, insistent tone, "What materia do you two have?"

Large brown eyes flickered from Tifa's face to Hojo's rapidly changing form, and then Elena seemed to come to some sort of decision. "Between Rude and I, we have all the elements, and one Elemental each," Elena replied, and then patted a pack at her waist. "I've also got these incendiary grenades, and Rude has a medi-pack." The blonde then watched Tifa expectantly, and Tifa realized with a sort of jolt that she'd been given command for the time being. It was logical, she realized, since she was the only one with any real experience in fighting against Jenova creatures, but she hadn't thought that Elena would relinquish authority so quickly. There was more to the petite assassin than Tifa had thought.

Wasting no more of their precious time, Tifa gave each of the Turks two of her remaining materia. She had handed over all of her mastered materia at Bone Village, but not every materia needed to be at a high level in order to be useful.

As Rude equipped the crystals that had been given to him, Tifa mentioned, "The magic one is a Heal. Use that if we're poisoned, heal us when we're down, and then use the summon whenever you can. It's low level, so when it runs out of spells, just switch to your offensive magic."

Then, nodding towards the yellow orb that she had given to Elena, Tifa said, "Use that right after someone summons, every time. If we run out of spells, then switch to those grenades you have." From her past - future? - experience in fighting the Turks in the train tunnels, Tifa knew that those firebombs packed a great deal of power, despite their small size. "That other one's a Poison. Attach it to your Elemental. Biological attacks are a trademark of Jenova creatures." Her eyes darted back to Hojo, who had finished whatever bizarre metamorphosis he had undergone, and was now stepping away from the control panel to advance upon them.

"Let's go," Tifa ordered.

They stepped forward to meet the enemy, the two women in front, and Rude flanking them as the designated medic usually did. The brunette wasted no time, but quickly raised her arms and centered her mind on one of her remaining summons. The air shimmered around her for a moment, and then she quickly lost herself in a familiar void as her mind was used as a portal for an other-worldly creature to travel through and do battle for her. As her vision cleared once more to the wind-swept platform, she caught sight of some last arcs of lightning dancing around Hojo's staggering form. Next to her, Elena had activated the yellow material as Tifa had instructed, and the startled blonde soon vanished and was replaced by Ramuh.

Seemingly none the worse for wear after the dual blitzkrieg, the professor suddenly leapt forward, covering an amazing amount of ground and lashing out at the nearest opponent with his tentacle-like arms. Elena, still recovering from the summoning, was thrown to the floor and struck solidly in the back and side before Tifa could react. She dashed over, the torn and tattered lab coat fixed in her sights and her body readying for the series of kicks and blows she intended to deliver.

Rude suddenly called, "Look out!" and just as she had reached her target, Tifa was knocked off balance by a blow to the back. Tumbling once and then immediately leaping to her feet, she saw an iridescent form flying up and away from her, wheeling in the air above them like a small, sparkling dragon.

She'd forgotten about those...

Pivoting on one heel, she found that Hojo had retreated for the moment, leaving Elena to scramble to her feet. The Turk, wincing with each breath, glanced at her partner to request aid only to find Rude grappling with a misshapen blob that had flailing tentacles sprouting every which way from its body. Tifa had already run to help him, and two had managed to beat aside the creature for the moment just as Elena reached them.

Nodding towards the silvery creature flying in low circles above them, Rude commented as he ministered to his wounded partner, "That thing's going to be a dangerous distraction. We'd better take care of that one first."

"No, he'll just call another one," Tifa replied. "We'll need to stay as far from them as possible, and just concentrate on long range spells for the moment." Slight frowns met her decision, but there was no further discussion on the subject, and the three ranged themselves out to use their materia once more.

Lightning crackled down and sent showers of sparks flying from the railings and platform, sheets of water came roaring down out of the swirling clouds in an apocalyptic deluge, and concentrated whirlwinds deafened them with their roars. The three put their magical skills to the best use, with each spell causing massive damage to all their opponents, and Elena doubling many of the summons with the Mime materia. The martial artist and two Turks' resources were also put to the test time and time again, as whip-like limbs lashed out at them, and the airborne enemy came shrieking down out of the sky to knock one of them down with slashing claws and wings.

But finally, the pulsating blob and silvery dragons were defeated for good, and the barely recognizable form of Professor Hojo lay still and silent before them, his misshapen arms crumpled and bleeding.

The trio stood quietly for a while, breathing heavily and shaking slightly under the influence of all the adrenaline coursing through their bodies. Elena, because of her position in the front line and also due to Tifa's superior experience and strength, had taken the worst beating of them all, and eyed Hojo's body fearfully. As Rude made one last round and handed out ampoules of reviving medicine, the petite assassin asked quietly, "Is he dead?"

The unease that had been clamoring for attention in Tifa's mind rose to the surface, and the brunette shook her head in an uncertain manner. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "The last time we fought...a Jenova creature, it seemed to decompose or something after it died. It just...melted away, somehow."

"Like that," Elena pointed out, motioning with one hand at the remains of the pod creature, which were now slowly oozing and dripping down through the slats in the metal platform to fall like a noxious rain upon the slums below. They all watched he slimy puddle for a second or two, and then met each others' eyes. Tifa glanced at her glove and the spent summons within it, and wordlessly replaced the now-useless red materia spheres with her Shiva orb and a Contain that she hadn't had room for before. She tossed a Long Range materia to Elena and quietly told her what it was, and was rewarded with a quick, thankful smile from the bruised and battered Turk. Elemental magic glittered emerald-bright from their hands, and finally Rude stepped forward to once more approach Hojo.

As the large man took uncharacteristically slow and careful steps away from his companions, all eyes remained locked onto the fallen form. Fifteen feet away...ten feet...and at the same moment, Rude jerked to a stop and both of the young women shouted, "Get back!" After an instant's hesitation, Rude began swiftly walking backwards, never taking his eyes off of what lay before him. As Tifa had feared, and Elena by chance predicted, Hojo was not finished quite yet.

The three didn't stop to discuss tactics this time, but immediately launched their attack, hoping against hope that they might keep their opponent down in this battle. As Tifa and Elena began their relay of icy summons and Contain spells, Rude prepared to cast a series of all the basic elements. Fire, ice, earth, and lightning were at his fingertips, and he watched carefully to see what kind of damage could be dealt by each. Bright red and green flares of magical energy pulsed around the three combatants almost constantly for the next few minutes, and in between the attacks, Hojo's metamorphosis continued.

The crushed and crumpled arms pulsed along their lengths as if they were flattened balloons being filled with globs of fluid, and slowly swelled into misshapen monstrosities. Mottled bruises appeared all over the skin, and an unnatural array of muscles and tendons caused the arms to bulge outwards in places as if they were trying to burst free of their confines. Further along, more changes were taking place. The same pulsing movement in the arms was also ripping apart the lab coat covering the body as the back and torso swelled and rippled. As the new muscular configurations settled themselves within, this new Hojo slowly raised himself - itself? - on the pillar-like arms and smiled.

Elena, who had just released the strap on her grenade pouch, let out a cry of revulsion at the twisted, lumpy façade that was now leering at her. Glittering black eyes stared at the horrified warriors and then a hissing, gurgling voice issued forth from the gaping mouth underneath.

"Behollll...HERRR powrrrr..."

If Tifa had only been in the role of an observer, or if she had been watching a movie, or if perhaps she had been born a century too late and had been listening to a legend passed down from generation to generation, she might have been moved by the professor's tale. From encounters with Hojo himself, she had learned of the absolute devotion and drive that consumed him. And through meeting Vincent and piecing together the knowledge gained on her travels, she had gradually put together a grainy picture of the life that the scientist had led. Hard work and a passion for knowledge would have unlocked a great career at any company or research center, but time and circumstances had opened up a much darker path. Shinra and all its opportunities, Nibelheim and the bitter love triangle, the successes and failure in the Wutai war...all had molded his mind to this point, where he had become not a great scientist, but a crazed sycophant.

Behold Her power. This was not the proud declaration of a man holding his discovery up for the world to see, but the cry of a zealot waging a war against a world of unbelievers, armed only with his absolute faith in his God.

...or Goddess.

In another time, another world, Tifa might have pitied this man. So consumed by his zeal as a moth by a flame, so sure of the rightness of his calling as to be blind to all else, so lost to his destiny that he counted it an honor to be mutated into this unrecognizable creature, all for the glory of his Goddess. Perhaps, in some way, he was the victim. All of the atrocities he had commited upon his fellow man...was he wholly responsible, or could the blame be laid at the feet of Jenova. Jenova, who had laid waste an entire race of people millenia ago. Jenova, who had given Sephiroth the final push over the cliffs of insanity.

Tifa knew what it was to be pushed around by fate. Hadn't she watched Cloud take the blame for her fall from Mt. Nibel? Hadn't she stood by his side in his search for a stolen past? Hadn't she watched and waited helplessly as guilt ate him up over things that he couldn't have changed? She knew, and so perhaps, in another time and another world, Tifa might have pitied Hojo.

But she also knew what it was to take what life gave you and overcome. Aeris' gardens in the slums, Cloud's triumph over Sephiroth, Reeve's defiance of Shinra...the very fact that they had come this far in this place in sheer defiance of fate itself...all were mute testimony to the spirit that they shared. The ability to survive, to overcome, to make something better of what destiny decreed.

Tifa knew what it was to be pushed around by fate, and she also knew what it was to push back.

And so without any hesitation she activated the materia in her glove, and with the last of her magic, sent the twisted form staggering backwards with a final Freeze spell. Elena Mimed the spell, while Rude added extra force to the attack with his own ice magic, and with that, the twisted arms that had been so laboriously mutated simultaneously ripped from their sockets and fell twitching to the ground, leaving the rest of what used to be a human being shrieking in agony, or perhaps even anger at their defiance.

Tifa felt a surge of elation at what she hoped was a sign that the battle was near its end, but the feeling was short-lived. Before she knew it, she had been knocked down on the ground. Her eyes blinked open and she immediately screamed and raised her arms in defense against the limbless monster attacking her. She attempted to block the heavy blows being rained down upon her with her arms and legs, and was mostly successful, but a final sharp stab nearly blacked her out with the pain. The wound in her middriff burned, and Tifa curled up at the sensation despite herself, but was spared further attack. A series of heavy thuds and then a large explosion told her that the Turks had come to her aid.

As Elena kept the creature - it was impossible to refer to the monstrosity as Hojo any longer - at bay with her incediary grenades, Rude dragged Tifa hastily over to the side and propped her up against a railing as if she were a rag doll. The ragged puncture wound in her side was turning a gruesome greenish hue, and seeped a thick, yellow fluid. Tifa attempted to drag herself to her feet, but the poison flowing through her veins seemed to have made her as weak and helpless as a newly hatched chick.

"Here," Rude said, slipping the Heal materia she'd given him back into her glove. "Use this. I've got to help Elena."

And with that, he rushed off to help his comrade finish off their enemy, running so quickly that by the time Tifa was able to gasp out, "Can't...nothing left," he was already out of earshot. Tifa watched the two Turks renew their assault on their enemy with renewed vigor, and managed a ragged sigh of relief as she saw that victory was within reach. She let her head sag down until her chin was nearly resting upon her chest, suddenly too tired to even keep her eyes open. There was a nauseating taste in the back of her throat, and every heartbeat seemed to send the venom in her system coursing, pushing her inexorably towards oblivion. As Tifa's eyelids fluttered closed, she attempted to murmur through her hitching, shallow breaths, but only managed a soft sigh.

Shinra's Turks...not bad. Made a good team. Should have told Elena...should have told her sorry...

A slight frown crossed Tifa's pale face, her eyelids twitching as she struggled against the numbness creeping over her, giving her the appearance of someone fighting against a nightmare. So many things she should have done, so many things she should have said...

...should have told Cloud...

Cloud, I never told you...I'm sorry...

Cloud...dead. Aeris, Vincent...gone. The others...left behind. So many people she longed to see just once more, to be with again, to make up somehow all the hours spent apart. Elena, Rude...two enemies and allies. Two people that she perhaps should have reached out to. Two people with whom there were so many unspoken accusations, so many misunderstandings, too many wrongs to set right in so short a time. Rufus...Rufus...one man who had been the crux of so many tragedies. This one person whom she still focused on with the bright, angry eyes of revenge.

So many things left undone, and so many things she still had yet to do. She had to stay awake, she had to fight off the poison until one of the Turks could come and heal her, because dying on this lonely platform certainly wasn't one of her plans. Tifa gathered as much strength as she could and raised her wobbly head to squint blearily at the battle drawing to a close at the other end of the platform. She attempted the draw breath into her lungs for a cry for help, but could only manage yet another hitching sob.

Come on, hold on, think, she told herself. She couldn't give up now. As soon as the fight was over, she might be able to distract the Turks long enough to slip through a hallway or vent somewhere and make her way down to the train tunnels and then escape from Midgar entirely. Or perhaps she'd be able to convince Rufus to let her be one of the ones to go face the Diamond Weapon, if it approached Midgar as it had before. During the fight, or perhaps afterwards, she could easily steal some form of transport and make her way towards Choco Billy's. Even if she couldn't escape, if she could just get her hands on Rufus...she'd gladly trade her life if she could take him with her. There had to be something she could do...there would always be a chance, some way to help her friends...but not if she died here.

Tifa's left hand clenched jerkily over the materia as the young woman fought against fear and frustration as well as the venom in her veins. Warm brown eyes slipped over to gaze at the magical crystal, useless to her now with her energy spent. Or perhaps not quite useless...with as violent a burst of strength as her weakened body could manage, she suddenly flung her arm out, sending the Heal materia flying towards the Turks. And as the green orb went clattering and clinking down the metal walkway, the poison in her body finally overcame her and Tifa slipped into the darkness.

Voices...she could hear voices. Soft and muted by distance or perhaps the fact that her mind wasn't quite awake, the voices murmured on, invading her foggy mind and slowly prodding her awake. Where was she? As she squirmed slightly, fighting against a feeling of complete exhaustion, she could feel velvety fabric underneath her, resisting her movements with a springy firmness. She forced her eyes open, blinking and wincing as her eyes attempted to focus themselves. All she could see was red.

Red velvet, actually. Tifa pulled her head back slightly and was finally able to focus her eyes on the upholstery of the sofa she was lying on. Red...everything in this office seemed soaked in the color. The curtains, the couch, the carpet that they'd been forced to kneel on when arrested...the blood that had soaked the walls as Sephiroth went on his mad rampage. Tifa rolled off of her resting place, wanting to distance herself from the crimson couch. She hated this color, this room, this building. She hated this place, this company, this life-sucking entity...she had to get out of here. She stumbled slightly as she took her first step away from the couch, slightly dizzy from shooting up so suddenly from her prone position, and placed one hand at her side to try and still the sudden ache that had bloomed there.

Pulling up her shirt a little bit, she peered at her waist and found a small puncture wound. There were faint bruises and broken blood vessels in a large, circular area around the wound, and as she watched, they started to fade away. As she watched the lingering effects of either a Heal spell or potion, her present reality finally came back to her. The fight...Hojo's myriad transformations...the final wound that had poisoned her. Tifa fought against the urge to curse out loud as she realized that she'd missed any opportunity she'd had to slip out of Midgar after the fight. Alert now, the brunette quickly scanned the room and found herself alone. She immediately turned for the stairs closest to her, but just as she reached them, Rufus came walking up the curved stairway his white coat a startling contrast against the red carpeting.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, the arrogant, demanding question softened only slightly by his smile.

Movement beyond Rufus' form caught Tifa's eye, and she glanced down the spiraling staircase to see Elena and Rude walking away, headed towards the main stairs. Since answering Rufus's inquiry honestly was impossible, Tifa instead replied with a question of her own. "Where are they going?" she asked, nodding towards the two departing Turks. Somehow, in the short amount of time that they had fought together, a sort of bond had formed between her and her two unlikely companions. And when compared to being left alone with Rufus, even Heidegger's company might have been preferable.

After a quick, casual glance behind him, Rufus continued up the stairs, herding Tifa before him with one outstretched arm. Not that he actually touched her. Tifa very carefully lengthened her strides so that she managed to keep a few inches ahead of his hand, reluctantly leaving the stairway behind. As they walked towards the massive desk from which Rufus ruled his domain, he answered, "I'm sending them to the Northern Crater in the Highwind."

Cid's Highwind, Tifa's mind automatically corrected, and she asked aloud, "Why?" She questioned Rufus not because she wanted to know - since she knew all too well - but because she was desperately fishing for some opening, some out, some way to regain her freedom. The heartbreaking longing for her friends that had troubled her before seemed to have swelled in the short while she had been unconscious, until it was an almost irrational, undeniable need.

Rufus once again declined to answer immediately, and Tifa found herself increasingly impatient with his nonchalance. Didn't this idiot realize that the world was literally ending? Unless Avalanche succeeded in stopping Sephiroth once again, this planet that they were standing on was doomed. And unfortunately, her own Avalanche's interference with this time's team had cancelled all bets as far as the odds for success. Tifa was as unsure of the probability of the sun coming up tomorrow as she'd been the first time Sephiroth had taken refuge in the Northern Crater. His own calm demeanor unruffled, Rufus guided Tifa over to one of the overstuffed chairs - crimson of course - by his desk, and wandered around the massive table to his own chair before answering her.

"Elena and Rude are under orders to stop Sephiroth," he finally explained, leaning back in his seat and smiling lightly at her as if they were discussing what to have for lunch.

Tifa mentally flashed on an image of the two Turks boarding the airship and speeding towards Sephiroth...and her friends. "Well, let me go with them then," she blurted out quickly, growing more nervous as she visualized what could be her last chance for escape walking further and further away with each passing moment. "I'm better than either Elena or Rude at close combat," she added with frank honesty, and was about to add more reasons to let her leave when Rufus interrupted her.

"And what are you going to fight with?" he asked, his eyebrows quirked.

Tifa glanced down automatically at her hands, and started in surprise as she finally realized that her gloves were missing. Gone too was the materia pouch, which had been attached to her belt until recently. The brunette frowned and looked up at Rufus with an accusing expression.

He snorted lightly as if amused at her surprise, and said in a fake, placating manner, "You were unconscious, so I couldn't ask your permission, but you've been so accomodating...I didn't think you'd mind if Elena borrowed your gear. She's quite attached to that rare command materia you gave her," he added, speaking in a tone that indicated that the matter of the borrowed equipment was no longer open for discussion.

Biting back a retort that she hadn't given Elena the Mime materia to keep, Tifa chafed her hands, upset by the lack of her fighting gear, which she had come to view as a part of herself. In fact, she had worn them so often and for so long that the backs of her hands were paler than her fingers, and the skin looked strangely fragile without its accustomed armor. Just wearing the gloves had given her a sense of being prepared and ready for the myriad surprises life liked to throw in her path. And now, feeling alone and vulnerable, she felt the lack keenly.

Suddenly, the sound of alarms came drifting up through the open stairway, and the intercom came to life on Rufus' desk almost immediately afterwards, bringing Heidegger's voice alive in the echoing office. The man's harsh, grating voice was made even worse by the crackling speaker, and Tifa winced as much from the sound as from the news he imparted.

"Diamond Weapon spotted offshore, Mr. President," the speaker announced. "Heading straight for Midgar. E.T.A., 15 minutes!"

Rufus stabbed at the intercom button and ordered, "Send out the SOLDIER materia squads, Tango to Victor. See if the armor drones are of any use. You're in charge until I get there." Cutting off his Head of Public Maintenance and Order with another jab at the console, Rufus then snatched up his telephone and dialed a quick three digit extension. As Rufus connected to the engineer now watching over the Sister Ray and began inquiring about its status, Tifa sat still and silent in her chair, frowning now and nibbling at her lower lip.

Diamond Weapon...Diamond Weapon. Before, Avalanche had met the biomechanical creature on the beach and fought with it for a short while before the Weapon had suddenly turned and left. As it turned out, the massive monster had simply been putting some distance between it and its intended target, stopping a great distance away to turn and fire upon Midgar, perhaps having sensed the power of the Sister Ray gathering there to fire at the Northern Crater.

But now, Avalanche was scattered far and wide, and there were only Shinra troops left to combat the Diamond Weapon. Would they be enough to hold it off from attacking Midgar directly until it sensed the mako cannon? And would the Weapon even act as it had in Tifa's own past? Nothing was for sure in this strange past but for one thing: if the Diamond Weapon did fire on the Shinra Tower, Tifa wanted Rufus to be there.

The brunette stood up out of her chair as Rufus finished his conversation and hung up the phone. He'd mentioned just a moment ago that Heidegger would be in charge until Rufus arrived...if Tifa had anything to do with it, Heidegger would be working overtime today.

Not that Rufus would be around to sign the paycheck, of course.

Although she'd silently berated him for an idiot a few minutes ago, Tifa knew all too well that Rufus was possessed of a keen mind and well-honed instinct. Youth was no guarantee of inexperience or vulnerability...Tifa herself was a prime example of how adversity and trials could mature a person beyond their years. And usually, when she searched for an opponent's weakness, she looked for blind spots, vulnerable areas, and other way in which she could prove to be superior. But in this case, she would have to use his own strengths against him, for she had no weapons, she was on unfamiliar territory, and Rufus could not know what her goal was.

"Wait," Tifa called out, as Rufus strode around the far side of the desk. "Where are you going?"

"You heard Heidegger," he replied shortly, "I'm going to oversee the battle."

Tifa took a few quick steps and fell in beside him as Rufus began to walk towards the stairs. "But you just gave him his orders. Why should you have to go down there to babysit him?" she asked, hoping that she could somehow appeal to his ego or image.

"I'm not going to 'babysit' him, Miss Lockheart," Rufus responded testily. "My father ran his company with blind eyes and lazy hands from that desk and he died that way as well. I don't intend to emulate him."

"But what if something else happens?" Tifa persisted, growing desperate as Rufus' long strides ate up the carpet. "You're the president of this company now, you should stay here in this office and command."

Her pestering seemed to have annoyed him more than anything, for he suddenly stopped in his tracks, turned, and grabbed her by the arm, startling her so much that she instantly ceased her verbal attack. Bringing his face close to hers, he snapped, "Don't tell me how to run my company. What's with you anyway?"

The sudden change from cool and sarcastically polite to this simple and harsh directness gave Tifa pause, and she wondered how to answer him.

What's with me?

Her attempts to keep him here in the office were too blatently obvious - and uncharacteristic enough - to catch Rufus' notice. When was the last time she'd been anxious for his company, or been interested in the way he ran things? Her words were ineffective...but what of actions? The obvious answer for this martial arts expert would be to turn Rufus into a senseless, crumpled heap on the floor with a few quick blows, and the mental vision was so appealing that Tifa nearly followed through on the impulse. But the dull ache that still gnawed at her side kept her from attacking. She was still weak and sore from Hojo's venom, and besides which, her hands were bare of the gloves that she was so used to relying upon. And Rufus Shinra was no weakling. Either the poison or the lack of gloves...just one of those would have made the fight a hard one, but with both handicaps, Tifa could not honestly say to herself that she was sure she'd win in the end. Besides, all it would take was one shout from Rufus to bring armed guards charging up the stairs.

The stairs were only fifteen feet away, with the Diamond Weapon coming ever closer, and Tifa couldn't think of anything to say, nor any action to take short of physical violence that might keep Rufus on the top floor until the Weapon attacked.

And then she thought of something, and thought to herself,

...oh no, anything but that.

But there was nothing else, and only a short distance to the stairs, and not enough time for Rufus to go and come back and so she had to, she had to...

He wants to know what's with me? Well, here it is, Rufus...

"I'm scared," she breathed out softly, her voice trembling so much at the thought of what she was about to do that it lent an unhoped-for realism to her act. She laid one shaky hand on top of the one still grasping her arm and pleaded, "Don't leave me, Rufus. Please..."

As a delaying tactic, at least, it seemed to work. Rufus remained standing there before her, the stairs forgotten for this moment. Pale blue eyes stared quite openly at her, and the angry frown smoothed out slightly into a thoughtful one. Tifa could see that he wasn't quite sure, either of her truthfulness or of what he'd heard, and so she rushed on in a desperate attempt to convince him that somehow, he'd missed seeing this frightened, vulnerable girl hiding behind the warrior's façade all this time.

"Please, Rufus, don't leave, don't leave me," she begged again. "You've already given Heidegger your orders and the Sister Ray's almost ready to fire...they don't need you right now..."

...and here was the biggie...

"...but I do."

There was a small yet deep chasm that seemed to open up inside Tifa's heart at that statement. Honesty and optimism...those were her trademarks, her badges of honor, who she was. And here she was, trying to seduce one of her most hated enemies with lies and frailty. There were so many of whom she felt she had to beg forgiveness for this desperate ploy of hers...and one of them was herself.

And just as there had been no time to grieve Cloud's death, so now there was no time for confessing the betrayal of his memory. The blonde haired, blue eyed man that was standing in front of her now had raised his eyebrows and was staring down at her with a look of frank disbelief. Tifa stared right back, half defiant, half still wilting flower.

I never really thought you were an idiot, Rufus, but I'm betting everything on the fact that you're an arrogant bastard who's too used to thinking he's no fool...

"I need you up here with me," Tifa restated. "You can't just leave me here all alone, Rufus. Please...I want you here with me." She could feel her cheeks flushing with mortification at the same time that her hands grew chilled with nerves, and wondered how much more of this her pounding heart could take. Was she really doing this?

Oh God, oh God, this is a nightmare. This is too unreal...he'll never believe this...I can't even believe it!

But he was still standing there quietly instead of running down the stairs...he hadn't yet scoffed at her pathetic attempts to detain him...he hadn't yet shaken her hand away. "Come on, Rufus," she added after a moment, managing a shaky smile and what she hoped was a coy look, "You said it yourself. You're the only one that gives a damn about me. Prove it."

The silence spun itself out for an agonizing eternity, and then finally Rufus spoke. "Well," he said slowly with a crooked, taunting smile, "I have no idea what game you're playing now, but..." He paused for a moment and ran his hand lightly up her arm as his eyes took an even more intimate tour of her body. His fingers barely grazed her skin, but it was all Tifa could do to keep from flinching under his touch. She repeated to herself that it was only skin, only human, only an ordinary man, not some Jenova creature...but for all her revulsion, the man standing in front of her might just as well have been one of Hojo's hideously mutated experiments. It was no use telling herself that this was only Rufus Shinra, because that was exactly the thing that horrified her.

"...I guess I'll play along," Rufus finally decided, his eyes aglow, and Tifa barely knew whether to sigh in relief or start screaming. She did neither. Instead, just as she did for battles, she cleared her mind of all its clamoring and concentrated on the task at hand. And this horrible task was just as important, for a life hung in the balance, although in battle, she was fighting to save her own life and those of her friends, and now, she was struggling to take someone down with her. But how to arm herself for this struggle?

Blonde hair, blue eyes...blonde hair, blue eyes...

Her eyes swept over the sun-bright hair, running along the smooth strands without stopping to notice that they were the wrong length and shape. She gazed steadily into the familiar blue of his eyes, taking care not to dwell on the fact that they didn't glow as if lit by a fire within. How many times had she dreamed of a blonde head hovering above hers, blue eyes looking down at her upturned face? The daydreams had been a sweet secret, hidden away carefully with a touch of embarrassment, a touch of shame. Now she pulled them all forward and drew from her cache of treasured memories to arm herself with all that she had left of him.

Cloud, oh Cloud...

Her favorite daydream had been a long-awaited reunion...sometimes by the well, sometimes high above their hometown on the paths along Mt. Nibel, and sometimes he would simply walk into her bar. Oh, but the look in his eyes was always the same. An instant's surprise as he saw her and recognized her, and then a slow, soft smile like the sun coming up on his face as he walked towards her.

She took a small step forward to make the remaining distance between them disappear, with an answering smile curving her lips, and did not allow it to falter when the countenance before her twisted into an arrogant smirk.

It's you, it's really you...oh Cloud, I can't believe it. I've missed you so much...

And her dream-Cloud would laugh a soft, melting laugh and embrace her easily, strong arms cradling her close...

...or grab her upper arm roughly...

...and in the laughing, joyful reunion, somehow all of the insecurities and misunderstandings of their childhood in Nibelheim were magically swept away. All the times Tifa had ignored the adoring satellite hovering around her were forgotten, and all the cool, uncaring phrases Cloud had ever spoken were washed away. There remained only their happiness at having found each other once more, and as if words were too simple and clumsy for the vast love they held for each other, they spoke not at all. Everything she wanted to tell him was in her eyes, and everything she'd ever wanted to ask him was answered in his smile.

And then sweet moment, so often replayed in her mind, when his eyelids dropped slightly, shading his brilliant aquamarine eyes into crystal blue...when his laughter died down into a heartbreakingly gentle smile...when his hand cradled her cheek, when his head dipped close to hers, when his lips brushed hers in their first feather-light caress...

...or bruising, forceful kiss that was more possession than passion.

She'd traveled the world over in her dreams and daydreams...from her cozy room in Nibelheim to Holzoff's deserted cabin at Gaea's Cliffs...from the cluttered bar in Midgar to a grassy bank by Gongaga. There had been whispers and laughter and joyful tears, timid confessions of love and tender embraces. And always a barely glimpsed future with vague visions of home and happiness, chocobos and children...

It had never been on a blood red couch at the top of the Shinra Tower. There had never been these ice blue eyes and rough, uncaring hands. And she had never, ever been praying for Death to come, and come soon.

Tifa straightened her skirt as best she could on a body that felt only marginally hers, and then sat back on the couch, doggedly refusing to look at the man leaning against the desk several feet away. She felt rather numb, as if she were still fighting to free herself from the last, clinging strands of a nightmare and hadn't quite stepped back into reality. Had she really just...well, done what she'd done? The shock of the idea brushed aside the reason behind it for the moment, leaving her in a sort of daze, which Rufus rudely brought her out of.

He was fully dressed once more, with only a few wrinkles here and there, for he'd been much more careful of his clothing than he'd been of her. The alarms were still ringing, but they were muted by distance, and he'd long ceased to notice them. Instead, all of his attention had been focused on Tifa, as she'd despairingly hoped. At first, it had been with lust, and now, with leering malice. "I've had countless secretaries and sluts throw themselves at me," he commented offhandedly, "but none as famous as you. This is certainly one for the message board."

Tifa turned her head and looked at him with a nearly blank expression, which slowly darkened into a frown. The sight of his mocking face brought back to her the reason she'd humiliated herself, and with it, an almost exultant anger.

You self-serving, egotistical monster...well I've won this round, Rufus.

Struggling to contain her anger and disgust, Tifa replied rather flatly, "Why Rufus, what a nasty thing to say. And here I thought you cared."

He chuckled, apparently highly amused, and said, "Just to set the record straight...back in the Sleeping Forest, I said that I was the only one who seemed to give a damn, Miss Lockheart. What in the world made you think I actually cared?" Without waiting for her reply, he continued, seeming to delight in taunting her. "I've been using you all along, and you've just played right into my hands, haven't you? You let me know Cloud was missing, you fought Hojo for me, and you even gave Elena the very items she needed to gain the rest of Avalanche's trust. Did you know that? She's got your gloves and your materia to act as emissaries for her...and guess what else I gave her."

He paused for effect and then finished, "Orders to kill everyone at the crater. Your friends will be disarmed and then they'll be dead." With a twisted smile, he added, "You've turned out to be my most useful tool."

Before Tifa could say anything in return, there was a loud detonation and a bright flash of light outside the enormous wall of windows beyond Rufus' desk, followed by a low rumbling that set the chandeliers to tinkling. The force of the Sister Ray firing shook the entire building, and Tifa automatically looked outside to track the blazing comet of energy on its way to the Northern Crater. Straining her eyes far into the distance, she caught sight of a faint flash of light, an answering twinkle to Midgar's bullet.

She'd done it.

Relief washed over her at this one success in her days of tragedies and failures, and the tears that she'd had to hold back almost constantly over the last several hours finally welled up into her eyes. She'd done it. She'd come here to Midgar with the vague hope of somehow helping her friends, and making sure of Rufus Shinra's death was no small accomplishment.

I did it...I did it. Cloud, oh Cloud...

She wasn't sure if she was seeking forgiveness or praise, if she was beseeching his spirit for acknowledgement or sending him a message that she'd be with him soon. But somehow, it was all for him. Nothing so simple that could be summed up in one word like revenge or justice...no motive so pure as love or hate.

But there was no time to examine motives and consequences...she had about fifteen seconds to finish what she'd come here to do.

Turning back to lock eyes with Rufus once more, she finally replied to his earlier taunts. "We're more alike than I'd ever cared to imagine, Rufus," she said.

He looked away from the windows as Tifa had hoped, and to his inquiring gaze she replied, "We're both users, to some degree. You use everyone and everything within your reach to attain your goals..."

"And what have you used?" asked Rufus, still with the mocking look on his face.

"Sex," replied Tifa simply, to which Rufus gave a short laugh and inquired,

"And what did you gain?"

Shining on the ocean horizon was a miniature star, growing steadily brighter over Rufus' shoulder. Tifa's heart seemed to swell with the myriad emotions whirling within; triumph, sadness, yearning, regret. Her white knight was coming but just a little late, and the expression that slowly dawned on her face was sweet and sad all at once...a smile to melt a heart of ice, to break a heart of stone, and one that confused Rufus Shinra and made slip his lordly demeanor. With all her heart, Tifa smiled at the brilliant light that was speeding her way and said softly, almost to herself, "Your death."

Rufus' eyes narrowed, both at her words and her strangely uplifted expression. As he noticed that she wasn't looking at him, but over his shoulder, the President of the Shinra ElectricPower Company whirled just in time to see diamond-white beams of energy come screaming through the air and explode through the plate glass of his domain.

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