Title: Child's Death II
Fandom: Final Fantasy: Advent Children
Characters: Tifa, Cloud, Marlene
Prompt: 037 - Sound
Word Count: 830
Date finished: 06/13/2006
Rating: G
Summary: Cloud and Tifa have lost something very precious to them. Tifa's point of view.
Author's Notes: I wanted to write Tifa's side.
Disclaimer: Characters are owned by Square Enix and Sony Pictures as far as I know.

Tifa half sat, half reclined on the stack of pillows Cloud had scavenged from the apartment, her son wrapped securely against the cool of the night - cool for him, not for her. The doctor's voice was still there, even though the man was gone, looking for Cloud. He had a right to know, too.

She could hear Cloud's footsteps; he walked at such a measured pace that she found, sometimes, her heart beating in time. This time, though, she was listening more to the breathing of the tiny boy in her arms. She didn't know how to even tell Cloud that their child was going to die, and couldn't even explain why. She'd been to exhausted, and too shocked, to even ask.

And then he was there, and the words just fell out of her mouth.

She wouldn't sleep, and was glad when Cloud never mentioned it, asking only once to hold the baby boy they'd made. Her arms felt so empty, and she didn't know what to do with them, letting her hands lay in her lap like beached fish until Cloud gave the baby back to her. Then he simply held her, arm around her shoulder, and let her be with the child they'd called Sec - because he'd only be with them for a second.

She focused so hard on the sounds of the little boy's breath, feeling the silk of his hair against her skin, that when he stopped breathing, it was like… she couldn't hear anything at all for a moment.

Then her eyes filled with tears, and she sobbed with a strange keen she'd never made before. "Tifa," Cloud said softly, and then said nothing else, but that filled the silence a little.

The doctor's voice was intrusive, but she knew it was necessary. She held the tiny body to her breast one last time, kissed the top of his head, and relinquished him. Then she turned into Cloud and just sobbed as he held her, and eventually she fell asleep.

When she woke, there was warmth against her back, Cloud's familiar contours of chest and belly and legs, his breath soft against her shoulder. She moved, shifted, and he stiffened. "Tifa?" he asked softly. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," she whispered, and buried her face in her hands as tears and sobs came out again, only this time silently. Cloud gathered her to him and just held her, his silence a blessing, because any sound would have hurt too much. Finally, though, she calmed, and lay limply against him.

"You should eat something," he said after a moment. "Do you want breakfast?"

"Please."

She heard him get up, felt the warmth of him leave her side, and then he paused in the doorway to look at her, concern in every line of his body. She looked back at him and then had to hide her head before he saw the tears in her eyes. Silence descended, and she wanted something else, noise, something to remind her that there was more than that tiny boy, gone from her life too soon.

He returned shortly. "Marlene's up," he said. "Do you want to see her?"

Tifa nodded. "Yes, please," she said, and sat up, rubbing the tears from her eyes.

Marlene came in and slipped gingerly onto the bed, and Tifa pulled her closer. "Good morning," she said.

"I'm sorry about the baby," Marlene said, and Tifa started.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"Vincent told me." Marlene huddled miserably on the bed, Tifa's arm around her shoulder. "He said the baby didn't make it through the night."

Tifa had to take a few deep breaths before she could answer. "He didn't," she said. "We named him, though."

"Why did he die?" Marlene asked.

Tifa shook her head, feeling the tears start up again already. "I don't know," she sobbed quietly. "I don't know."

Cloud returned a few minutes after that, and sent Marlene away. He set the tray on the chair by her bed, and then sat next to her. "I'm sorry, Tifa," he said softly, and she leaned into him and the sound of his heartbeat.

There were days she didn't want to admit to feeling better, days the silence wasn't so deep. Cloud was right beside her the whole time, supporting her, taking over when she needed time off, but she realized that the silence left by Sec was… not as deep when she was working, with people talking to her and everything going on around her.

And then Cloud told her what the doctor had said about why Sec had died. She stared at him, her mind going over everything he'd said - and everything he hadn't said. There was uncertainty in his eyes, though there was very little guilt; it hadn't been something he could control, after all.

She was glad he hadn't suggested he leave. She couldn't handle that much silence in her life.

Advent Children Table | Challenge Main

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