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greensaplinggrace · 4 years

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Barret Apocalypse AU Pt. 2

PART 1 | PART 2 of Prompt: “Hello! This is kind of out there but I was wondering if you could do a post apocolypse au? With tons of Barret but not very shippy. With lots of found family though! Thanks” ~ @eilesgiire

CAN BE FOUND HERE ON AO3

Three hours and seven houses after leaving camp, Barret still hasn’t found a single shelter even remotely suitable for living.

Most have been the victims of roaming Mobs, walls shredded and marked by the distinct silver shards of glass bombs, destroyed simply for the safety and seclusion of their locations, and the select few that haven’t been touched by the Mobs are overrun by the infected instead. One place is even reduced to shambles by what appears to be an earthquake, not even slightly inhabitable.

Every single time, the houses will look stable from a distance. Safe to explore and eventually settle in for the winter. And every time, they all turn out to be unusable and they all reveal themselves to be disappointing in some way. He’d headed out to look for any house worthy of a home, but not a single place he’s come across so far is even close to meeting his criteria.

It doesn’t have to be much, but it has to be enough.

He won’t settle for anything less when it comes to his little girl.

It hurts to even be separate from her for so long, but he has to do this. If he wants to keep their camp safe, but especially if he wants to keep her safe.

Barret only wants what's best for Marlene; it’s always been what he’s wanted. Beyond the bid for environmental change and the firm rise against corrupt policies. Underneath rebellions and uprisings and what the media had once called terrorism. Throughout all of it - the loud, brash call for freedom and challenging the winds of fate themselves - Barret’s interests have never strayed from Marlene.

Everything he does, he does for her. Keeping the world safe keeps Marlene safe, and providing for Marlene is all Barret has ever wanted to do since the first moment she settled in his arms.

Unfortunately, providing for Marlene means taking risks, and taking risks means leaving her.

Used to be, taking risks meant risking Marlene as well, but Tifa’s solid presence at his side has been a boon the likes of which Barret had never expected. Sent by the planet herself, Tifa had come into their lives not in a whirlwind but in a steady drive back to camp after the day she’d recovered - the day he’d thought she left for good - with a truck bed full of three years worth of supplies and four suitcases brimming with clothes and toys for Marlene.

She’s done nothing but prove her worth every day afterward, pulling her weight around camp and helping to ease the burden of responsibility just a bit. Just enough for him to feel like he’s finally getting somewhere - like he can finally do what he needs.

So now, Marlene is always safe. Tifa stays with her when Barret goes out. Or Barret stays with her when Tifa goes out. Leaving Marlene no longer means abandoning her, and taking care of her doesn’t mean putting her at risk, and recently the world has stopped looking as bleak as it once had. Filling instead with just the faintest, glimmering tinge of hope.

But no amount of hope can change the fact that they need a solid roof over their heads, and no amount of trust in Tifa can help Barret miss his daughter any less.

Hope certainly isn’t getting Barret any closer to finding salvageable shelter, either, and he’s just beginning to give up on the last of it when a woman’s scream rips through the silence of the forest.

Barret hits the brakes with a grating screech and skids over to the side of the road immediately. Eyes wide through the shade of his glasses as he peers intently out the smudged windows of his truck, attempting to gauge any sort of threat level. He’s reluctant to exit the car just yet in case it’s a trap, but if it is a call for help Barret can’t just sit idly by while someone suffers.

He searches for a time before he notices where the screams are coming from, but eventually he sees it. Just down a small pathway in the forest that opens up into a wide clearing sits a house. It’s a massive, immaculately pristine mansion practically crawling with the infected, but that isn’t what chills him to the bone.

Dawn has started to break out the first light of the next day, and the vivid red rays cast a gruesome pallor over the scene laid out before him.

Littered across the blood slick grasses of the clearing are dozens of bodies - possibly hundreds - skewered and piked and cut to pieces like cattle. He’s stumbled into a damned battlefield, Barret realizes, and there’s only one group savage enough to do something like this.

SOLDIERs.

Without another thought he’s out of the car and slamming the door closed behind him. Infected he can deal with. SOLDIERS he can put up a fight against. But whoever is in that mansion? He doubts they can do either, otherwise they’d already be out amidst the fallen.

He sees the group of SOLDIERS almost immediately when he reaches the dip at the end of the pathway, the whole of the clearing opening up before him like some sick wartime display. There’s a man sprawled across the ground right in front of him whose eyes have been burned clean out of his skull, mouth smeared with blood and chest caved in. Laying dead beside him is another person, a woman with her head half severed at the neck and legs bent at an impossible angle. Then another and another, extending out in front of him and beside him, leading into the trees and up to the mansions doors.

At a guess, Barret would say they’re guards, but most of them aren’t even whole enough to identify, either butchered by their aggressors or gnawed at by the crowd of zombies currently tearing at the walls of the mansion.

It’s a level of cruelty Barret has never seen before in his life, and he considers himself a strong man when it comes to violence, but even entering the clearing has his stomach turning at the mere sight of the blood, pooled in wet patches of mud and glinting off matted blades of grass. It’s a massacre.

Killing the sick fucks who did this wouldn’t be punishment enough.

The fact that they’re still here, though? That’s what really pisses him off. There’s only two that he can see, gathered nearer to Barret than the mansion and both looking down at something on the ground, weapons drawn and ready as if they’re not already surrounded by the bodies of their victims. One has red hair and the other has long, distinct silver hair that Barret would be able to recognize anywhere, based on the propaganda that had run rampant throughout Midgar before it’s collapse.

Which means the other must be Genesis.

The first time Barret finally gets to come face to face with the war criminals who have destroyed the lives of so many - who worked gladly for the company that destroyed Barret’s life - and it’s when the world has been overrun by knock-off zombies and mako addicted gangs. And to make matters that much more complicated, there’s only two of the five he knows to exist currently present.

Two people who did all of this.

Shinra really did create monsters.

The heat that burns through Barret’s veins is pure rage when he hears the screams in the mansion cut out in one last abrupt, terrified screech, still standing surrounded by the brutalized bodies of the dead, a horde of infected not even a few meters away and a sea of blood like the earth is bleeding. While these people - these murderers - just linger at the scene of their own crime and talk like this is a damned vacation and not a fucking massacre.

Without even thinking of the danger, Barret is whipping his gun into the air and preparing to fire, free hand clenched into a furious fist at his side and vicious words already at the tip of his tongue. Ready to finally do something for once - ready to fight back and take control -

Yet before he can so much as consider firing, a movement catches his eye. A shock of matted blonde hair that shifts between the only two men still standing. Pale, bloodied limbs struggling to gain traction against the soaked and unforgiving earth. The hacking cough that follows is enough to sober Barret like a bucket of ice cold water as he realizes that somebody is still alive. Pinned between two super soldiers and lying prone as Sephiroth’s sword descends for the final blow.

Barret’s heart hits the back of his throat.

“Hey!” he yells, starting forward as they turn to face him. He ignores the warning frowns that mar their faces, Sephiroth’s sword drawing back ever so slightly as if to attack him instead, and powers on with his gun raised. “Hey! Get the hell away from him!”

It’s Genesis that ends up facing him fully, snapping his sword to attention in one quick, smooth motion and pointing it directly at Barret. It forces him to stop dead in his tracks a good few feet away from them, but Barret’s close enough now to see the pallid state of their faces and Sephiroth’s unnaturally slitted pupils. He looks like a ghost of the pictures Barret had once seen, cracked at the edges and wild eyed, paler than the dead and hair askew like some tormented ghost.

He doesn’t look alive.

And Genesis isn’t much better. Barret never had the chance to get a glimpse of him the way most had been able to with Sephiroth, but he can take a wild fucking guess that the graying, unwashed hair and sallow complexion isn’t normal. Nor is the way he’s acting right now, sword extended in a threat as a twisted smirk graces his delicate features.

They’ve both gone completely off the deep end.

The blonde on the ground isn’t faring too well, either. They’ve done a number on him, kicked and beaten him until his skin is coated in bruises, hair caked in blood and clothes ripped. There’s a cut down his shirt that looks like it was made by the straight edge of a sword purely for the purpose of exposing skin, and Barret’s veins run cold in a different kind of fury at the sight.

It’s easier now than it had been even days ago to believe the rumors. That the SOLDIERs were the ones to start this apocalypse; that it was Shinra’s precious little lapdogs who let the world fall into chaos.

Gaia, Barret is endlessly grateful that Marlene and Tifa aren’t here to see this right now.

“I ain’t playing around,” he snaps, “back the fuck off before I shoot.”

“This isn’t any business of yours,” Sephiroth sighs, sounding as if he’s discussing the weather instead of some poor man’s life, and Barret has to unclench and clench his fist again to refrain from shooting that smug mug right off his face, “I suggest you move along.”

“It’s not going to happen, you twisted fuck.”

Sephiroth’s lips thin at that, his blade finally falling away from the blonde completely as he turns to face Barret alongside Genesis. He looks incandescently angry, eyes alight with a demented sort of fury that has Barret’s hair standing on end, but he doesn’t back down. SOLDIER or not, he’ll find a way to stop them.

“I ain’t gonna let you murder somebody right in front of me!” he protests heatedly, swinging his gun around to face Sephiroth when the other’s eyes narrow dangerously. “The hell is wrong with you?! He’s on the ground right now. He can’t even fight back. ”

“This is SOLDIER business.”

“Of course, that’s why it involved the eighty guard rotation of some rich fuck’s manor? Dead servants and a horde of zombies clawing at the doors of a building that doesn’t even belong to you? SOLDIER business, my ass.”

Sephiroth sucks in a sharp breath, grip tightening ever so slightly on the hilt of his blade, but Barret doesn’t waver an inch as those hateful eyes glare venomously.

“I don’t know you and I don’t care to,” Sephiroth hisses, “but if you continue to try my patience, you’ll soon become acquainted with my blade. This is your last warning.”

“To hell with your fuckin’ warnings. How ‘bout I don’t shoot you for murdering half a small town’s worth of people.”

It’s Genesis that reacts this time around, letting out a laugh as he weaves the tip of his sword through the air. “You think you could hurt us with that toy?” he scoffs, smirk rapidly turning into a mocking sneer, “you’re nothing compared to us. I could put my sword through you before you even got a single bullet out of that worthless pile of scrap.”

“Take your best shot, asshole!”

It happens in the blink of an eye. One moment Barret is standing his ground against two furious supersoldiers, Genesis baring his teeth and winding up in a snarling fury, sword moving so fast Barret can hardly see it cutting through the air as he prepares to meet his end. Then the next there’s a blur of movement and the screech of metal against metal, a massive buster sword reverberating just inches above Barret’s head with the force of Genesis’s blade.

Barret instantly recognizes the blonde hair.

“What the-?”

“Cloud! Enough.” Sephiroth’s own sword is extended now, pressing with careful precision into the pulse point of the blonde, and he does not look any happier than he had thirty seconds ago.

“You two know each other?” Barret’s beginning to suspect this person might not be another unfortunate guard from the mansion. He’s holding his sword level with Genesis - of all people - as if it’s nothing. The weight of his blade alone should have been enough to send him keeling over.

That’s when Barret notices the uniform - a SOLDIER’s uniform. It doesn’t look the same as a first class uniform, but it's definitely not a civilian’s outfit either.

Barret had been protecting a SOLDIER.

A rush of emotions floods him at that. Anger and confusion and frustration making him growl out a warning and direct his gun right back at Sephiroth.

“What is going on here?” he demands, “you’re standing in the middle of a massacre about to kill one of your own?!”

Sephiroth chuckles, tone lightening for the first time since Barret arrived. “Well, we’ve already killed the other.”

Dead silence.

Not even Genesis moves for a second, and the blonde’s arms start to shake beneath the pressure. Though the sword above him poses a massive threat, Barret can’t help the way his eyes are drawn like magnets to the dead body that had been right beside the blonde. The torn, blood soaked remains of a SOLDIER uniform tells him all he needs to know.

They killed him. One of their own. Just as they’d been about to kill the blonde. There truly is no end to Shinra’s cruelty. Even after the company’s demise its loyal soldiers gather to slaughter each other like cattle and destroy the lives of those only trying to get by. Even after Shinra has died the planet still burns, and the SOLDIERs are still the tools of its destruction.

Yet a SOLDIER had also been the one to save his life.

Cloud, Sephiroth had said.

His reflexes are slow, movements groggy, and Barret would bet his only remaining arm that the guy has at least a medium grade concussion. He’s already breaking under the strain of holding back a super soldier - already crumbling beneath an impossible weight. There’s no telling if he’d be able to run or keep up with the fight - no telling if he’s a good enough person to even try it...but he’d been a good enough one to save Barret’s life.

Barret’s determined to get him out of this in one piece.

The next moment is a blur of movement. The snap decision to fire, not at Sephiroth but at his blade, until the sword is ripping the man’s arm sideways and his expression is slackening in surprise. Barret doesn’t even take a moment to contemplate the true suicidal stupidity of attacking someone like Sephiroth before he’s charging forward, grabbing the blonde by the waist and using his gun to take the brunt of Genesis’s sword. It’s only for a second - only to garner enough time to pull the kid back and free him from the lock of blades - but it’s enough for Barret to holler as an electrifying pain numbs his gun arm. The shriek of tearing metal splits the air, accompanied by Genesis’s own noise of outrage, and Barret hauls the kid backwards and onto his shoulders without hesitation.

There’s a beat of tension as Sephiroth recovers his footing and Genesis regains his bearings, Barret staring right at two infuriated super soldiers through the sparks of his shredded arm.

Then the world is rushing back around him. Panic and noise and the need to get the hell out of there. To return home to his daughter.

So Barret takes the kid and he runs.

And hell, he doesn’t look back for anything.

——

Barret winds down several backroads as he makes his way back to camp, determined to shake any tail he might have now that he’s possibly angered some of the most powerful people in the world. He hadn’t seen them pursue him after he’d dumped himself and the kid in his truck and torn out of there like a bat out of hell, but there’s no telling what their kind has up their sleeves.

There’s no telling what the one in his truck has up his sleeve, either, and it’s damn ridiculous that Barret is risking any part of his life for a Shinra lapdog that might turn on them at any moment, but he can’t bring himself to abandon the guy. Can’t allow himself in good conscience to leave someone so clearly injured out to fend for themself, let alone someone who’d happened to save his life. Even if Barret had also happened to save theirs. Barret would say that makes them even, but he knows it’s more complicated than that - knows that ties of any sort of blood can lead people to do bad things. It's hard to break from that mold. Hard to choose something good over those you consider family.

Cloud turned on his people. That takes more than guts. Though Barret doesn’t know if 'more' is a bad thing or a good thing, considering it had led him to being a turncoat. No matter how justified it may have been.

He brings the blonde back to camp because it’s the right thing to do, and because apparently he’s made a habit of picking up strays. But it’s with a heavy heart and a host of fears, millions of horror scenarios playing out in his head. A swirling mass of dreadful scenes depicting Marlene and Tifa hurt and dying because of his actions - his family hunted now by people they have no hope of beating alone.

Scenes that follow him all the way home.

Yet when he pulls up to camp he doesn’t even think to let those worries show, and when he steps out of the car and slams the door shut behind him, there’s nothing on his face but a massive, beaming smile as he sets sights on his little girl. She squeals when she sees him, dashing forward in a mad scramble of flying cookware from the portable oven.

“Daddy!” she screams excitedly, “Daddy, you’re back!” She hits him with all the force of her tiny body and he laughs as he takes her up in his arm. The warmth and relief that fills him almost brings tears to his eyes, and he hugs her so tight to his chest that he can feel her breathing and alive against him.

“That’s right, angel! Safe and sound, just like I promised.”

She giggles against his neck, small fists rising to press at the nape of his neck in a hug. “Tifa and me were making you dinner!”

“Oh, is that so?” He chuckles, looking up to see Tifa standing a short distance away. She looks relaxed and happy, smiling with a languid sort of bliss as she watches the two of them.

Then her eyes drift down to his destroyed arm and the expression drops to one of pure panic, her gaze darting back up to his own with alarm.

He winces and shakes his head, silently telling her he’ll explain it all later. But he refuses to let go of Marlene right now - refuses to let her out of his sights - so he nods at the passenger seat of the truck, observing pensively as Tifa finally seems to catch his drift, circling around the car to check inside.

“Did you bring back anything fun, Daddy?” Marlene asks sweetly, leaning away to peer up at him with wide eyes. He hums for a moment to stall, hearing Tifa’s small gasp as she catches sight of the battered SOLDIER, and tries to keep his tone light when he answers.

“Not this time, baby. Had to focus on houses instead of stuff, remember?”

“Uh huh! You were house hunting!” She exclaims proudly, eyes crinkling with the force of her smile.

It’s impossible not to return one of his own, warm and loving as he moves them both away from the situation about to unfold, further into the camp. “That’s right! When did you get such a good memory?”

Marlene kicks her legs in the air with an offended sniff. “I always have a good memory. It’s you that forgets things. Like my necklace!” She pouts.

“Well, you’ve got me there,” he laughs, forcing his tone into something unworried as he turns to see Tifa haul the blonde from the car. She slams the door shut with enough force to make Marlene jump, and as she carries the blonde bridal style into the clearing he notices the dark shadow of horror in her eyes, lips tight and arms shaking as she stares down at him.

Marlene can’t help turning at the noise, and Barret has no power to stop her as she gets a look at their new guest. She gasps, mouth dropping open as she begins to squirm eagerly in his grasp. “Who’s that?! Is he another friend? Is he staying with us too, like Tifa?”

“I don’t know!” He keeps a hold of her as Tifa sets the blonde down on her own mattress, instantly digging around in her pack for supplies. Then turns his full attention on Marlene again, looking sternly into her pleading brown eyes until she stills enough to listen.

“We don’t know if he’s staying, yet,” he tells her honestly, voice gentle, “But we can’t bother him right now, okay? He’s hurt and he might be dangerous.”

“Dangerous how? Who is he?” It’s Tifa who speaks, although she doesn’t look back at him as she does so, and Barret sighs as he crouches to lower Marlene to the ground. She races over to them both before he can do anything, but he trusts that Tifa won’t let any harm come to Marlene.

“A fool, apparently,” Barret snorts with bitter self reproach, “and a turncoat too. ‘Less his friends were just…” he glances at Marlene, shocked and curious as she hides behind Tifa and peaks out at the blonde from around the woman’s shoulder. “...hurting him for the fun of it. They looked past the point of sanity, though, so who the hell knows.”

“A Cluster?” Tifa frets, “I thought they didn’t wander out this way.”

“They usually don’t. Stick to the roads and such. Don’t got time for the likes of backwoods campers. But this wasn’t a Cluster, it was worse.”

“Worse how?” She finally turns to look back at him, and the furrow between her brows makes his heart ache for her. He almost doesn’t want to say it, but -

“SOLDIERS.”

She freezes, expression going blank, and he knows nothing good can be going through her head right now.

“What?” She croaks breathlessly, “You brought a SOLDIER back here? Are you insane? ”

“What’s a soldier?” Marlene’s voice is small and afraid, and Barret swallows the conversation in an instant at her tone, falling to his knees and beckoning her over.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart. Come here.”

He sees Tifa drop the conversation as well, biting her lip to keep from speaking as she settles a comforting hand on Marlene’s shoulder. She forces herself to relax as she gives Marlene a warm smile, nudging her toward Barret, and after a few seconds Marlene begins to approach with tiny steps. She’s fidgeting, casting fervent looks back at the limp body next to Tifa.

“Is our new friend a bad guy?” she asks hesitantly, eventually working up the courage to speak as she gets closer.

Barret swallows thickly. “No, he’s not- not a bad guy. He saved my life.” Then, louder as he directs it to Tifa, “he saved my life.”

She sighs and nods, shoulders tense as she turns back to keep working on Cloud, and Barret leans forward the rest of the distance to sweep Marlene up again into a comforting hug. Like magic, though, she’s already moved on from the emotion of two seconds ago. Fear turned to a palpable interest as she hums curiously against him and vibrates with a new kind of energy.

“So he’s a hero?” She asks as he stands to take them to her tent.

“I suppose he is,” he admits reluctantly, holding back a scowl.

“Then why is he so hurt?”

He parts the flaps of her tent and carries her into the muted blue shadows, laying her gently down on her sleeping bag. She yawns widely, rubbing at her eyes and sniffing, but she doesn’t let up on the questioning gaze for one second.

Barret toys with his next words. “His old family...didn’t treat him very well.”

“But why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Families aren’t supposed to hurt each other. They’re supposed to take care of each other. Like you do with me.”

His gaze softens and he brushes a stray lock from her eyes, mulling over his next response. “I take care of you because I love you, and you’re my precious little girl.” She giggles when he leans down to smother her in a sloppy kiss, pushing his face away playfully. Then he leans back and sobers up, saying tenderly, “These people...they weren’t like us. They didn’t agree with him, sweetheart. I don’t know the whole story, but I know they tried to kick him out.”

“They wanted to abandon him?”

She sounds so sad, and Barret doesn’t know how to make it better. Doesn’t want to lie to her but doesn’t want to hurt her.

He exhales slowly and presses her back into her bag when she tries to rise. The heavy weight of his hands rests on her chest for a moment in solid comfort, and after a time her small fingers come up to rest atop his own. She pats at him solemnly like it’s him that needs the comforting, and he chokes back a laugh.

“We should keep him,” she says, “so he can know what a real family is.”

“We aren’t his family, sweetheart.”

“But you’re a Daddy. And you said that we should always help and protect people.”

“That’s-” He huffs in amusement and relents beneath the insistence of her hopeful eyes. “Very kind, Marlene. And very brave.”

Her smile is shy with the light pink in her cheeks, but her eyes sparkle victoriously. Barret doesn’t know how to tell her that the SOLDIER probably won’t be around come morning, if he even stays that long at all. So he turns his palm to catch her wrists between his fingers, bringing her hands up to lay a kiss on the back of each. Then he lowers them back down to kiss her goodnight as well, hushing her worries with a gentle touch to the forehead.

“I couldn't be more proud of you,” he says lowly, “my kind girl. You’ve grown up so well.”

“I think you’re the kindest, Daddy, for helping people even when they’re mean. I think you’re a hero, too. You and Auntie Tifa and…”

“His name is Cloud,” Barret admits, already regretting saying the words. And sure enough-

“And Uncle Cloud!”

“How about we wait until he’s awake to see if he wants to be called that, huh?” It’s a lot more rational than he wants it to be, but he can’t bear to snuff out the flickering light of hope Marlene’s found in the situation.

“Fine,” she pouts, before brightening excitedly, “and then he can tell us a story! About how he was the hero and saved you.”

Barret rolls his eyes and stands to leave. “I saved him too, you know.”

“Sure, Daddy.”

“Yeah, yeah...Goodnight, little bug.”

“Night night!” He exits the tent and zips up the flaps, and it’s only after he’s turned and made his halfway across the camp that he hears, “don’t let the bed bugs bite!” sound out behind him.

Barret chuckles fondly, wincing at a sudden sting of pain in his gun arm, and glances over at where Tifa’s working on the SOLDIER.

His smile drops almost instantly as he sees her leaning back on her heels, hands raised defensively against the harsh movements of her patient.

He’s awake, Barret thinks.

And acting exactly as Barret had feared, judging by the distress clear from across camp. He grits his teeth and storms over, hand already clenched into a fist.

“Hey!” Tifa jumps in surprise, turning to face him as he approaches, and Barret only faintly registers the lack of fear on her face before an infuriatingly cold voice is piercing the air.

“You can’t keep me here,” Cloud says, rising to sit up despite the obvious agony it brings him. He wraps an arm around his stomach, but the intensity of his glare doesn’t waver once.

Tifa worries at her lip as he moves, hands hovering over his battered body as if she doesn’t know where to place them. “You’re still injured, you can’t be up and about! Let me help you,” she practically begs, and Barret’s blood boils at the sound of it. What right does this kid have?

“Not interested.”

“Oh you can’t be serious!” Barret finally snaps, coming to a stomping halt right next to the both of them and scowling furiously down at the kid. “Drop the tough guy act and suck it up. You ain’t helpin’ no one with that attitude, least of all yourself.”

He opens his mouth to say more and falters almost violently when he catches sight of Cloud’s exposed upper body, teeth clacking shut as his eyes widen.

The kid’s shirt is cut right off of him now, with the tight black binder around his chest exposed for all to see. Yet what really horrifies Barret is the garish mass of bruises painting every inch of his skin. He’s coated in cuts and stab wounds, shaking with exhaustion and ribs stark against his thin body, with what looks like an actual bullet wound still red and seeping in his shoulder. Under the pale light of the moon, with blood and dirt washed away, he looks worse than he had sprawled out on that battlefield.

Barret’s stomach turns.

“Shit,” he breathes out before he can stop himself, “what the hell did they do to you?”

“A lot less than what they did to Zack!” His voice cracks and his teeth clench after he speaks, as if the words have spilled unwillingly from his mouth.

“The other SOLDIER?” The one they killed?

The words spark a fire in Cloud that has him whipping to attention so quickly Barret’s surprised he doesn’t keel over from the pain. “It ain’t any of your business!” he grinds out, voice desperate and guarded and hurt all at once, lashing out like an injured animal, “Stop treating me like I’m made of glass. Stop talking like you’re familiar with me. You don’t even know me.”

Tifa crosses her arms and raises her chin defiantly, unflinching in the face of Cloud’s anger, and meets his gaze head on when he turns to glare at her. Barret’s hit with another sense of profound respect for this woman, who doesn’t even blink at the unnatural glow of mako eyes in the night, upper body rising to match Cloud’s own harsh tension.

“You’re not being treated like glass! Your injuries are getting taken care of. Last I checked, there’s a hell of a difference.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Ya can’t take care of shit, soldier! Do you hear yourself?” Barret hisses, “do you see yourself? You wouldn’t make it a day out in the wild alone.”

Cloud works his jaw, the stubborn set of his shoulders unrelenting for just a second before his expression shifts, softening in surprise as his trembling body finally can’t take the stress anymore. Tifa reaches out just in time to catch him as he collapses, and the way his lashes flutter, eyes glazing over, speaks more about his wounds than whatever shit was spilling out of his mouth.

Barret snorts. “What a dumbass.”

“Barret!” Tifa scolds, lowering the kid with such a painful amount of gentleness that he’s half convinced the kid may have been onto something about being treated like glass.

“Look, he’s an asshole!” Barret defends, waving his gun arm at the kid in a momentary lapse of judgement that has it zinging with pain. He covers up a wince before Tifa can see it and continues on, growing tenser with each passing moment, voice heated with the pain and frustration of the day. “We’ve done nothing but help him and he’s acting like he doesn’t give a single shit. Dozens of people died today. I almost died! He almost died!”

“And his friend did die, so maybe cut him some slack.”

“That doesn’t excuse his shitty behavior.”

“It was one conversation, Barret! For a few minutes, while he was concussed and injured and barely coherent. He probably won’t even remember it in the morning.”

Barret grinds his teeth and quiets, because he knows she’s right. Know he’s overreacting but damn, everything about the kid had rubbed him the wrong way. “He’s a SOLDIER, Tifa.”

“One who apparently saved your life. One that you brought back with you, which tells me a bit more about what you really feel about this situation.”

“I just don’t trust him,” Barret says, “and I don’t like him.”

Tifa just shakes her head. “Go to sleep, Barret. You’ll want to apologize in the morning.”

“You said he wouldn’t remember the damn conversation anyway!” Barret huffs indignantly, the thought of apologizing makes his hackles rise like nothing else, and he’s thinking he may need to take Tifa’s advice, after all. That he should go to bed before he does something else he might regret.

Something- not something else- because there’s not anything else that he-

Dammit .

“Yeah,” he sighs, waving his hand as Tifa opens her mouth to keep fighting, “yeah, you’re right.”

He gives her a soft goodnight, feeling a bit better when she relaxes and sends him a reassuring smile before turning back to work on Cloud, and heads over to his own tent to settle in for the night.

He just needs some time to cool down - just needs to take a moment to himself so he can grieve the brutal loss of his prosthetic and the deaths of every single person he’d seen today. Needs to be able to reconcile with the horrifying levels of destruction he’d witnessed.

Once that’s done - once he’s had the time to settle down - he’ll apologize. Or find the guy some ice cream. He doesn’t know. But right now, just for the night, he needs to rest.

He goes to sleep with a calm mind that night, content and soothed by the knowledge that things turned out okay, with the firm resolution that he’ll get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow and lighten the air between him and the new guy.

Unfortunately, come morning, Tifa’s bedroll is empty. The top kicked aside and the buster sword missing from where it had been propped up against a tree.

Cloud is nowhere is sight.

And as Barret looks around in sleepy bewilderment, he realizes that neither is the truck.

“Mother fucker!”

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