Chapter 2: Meeting the Legend

Collin was dreaming. He'd had this dream more than once but not enough to worry him over it. Every few months he would wake up, and recall the same images that had been following him since he was a boy. Though he reasoned that the scene should have frightened him, it didn't. He was used to it.

He could see a woman lying on her back, cradled in the arms of a man. Her long brown hair was strewn about, limp and without shine, and her skin was pale except in those places stained crimson. Her presence made the area cold. The man who held her was always covered in shadows, and his voice, rising sharply in anger, spoke only words that were unrecognizable to the boy.

But they weren't alone. Standing over them was the focus of the raging curses—a man, standing tall, also covered in darkness. Except his eyes. The man's eyes glowed, unlike anything Collin had ever seen. They were blank and cold in looking upon the dead woman. Protruding from the shadow that was his right hand was a streak of silver light, as if reflecting off a polished, sharpened blade.

And this was the dream. The woman would lie, dead, the first man would scream and curse, and the second man would only stand, staring. But that night something changed. The dream didn't end as soon as it should have. Instead, the man with the sword lifted his weapon. It rose above his head, shining with a kind of morbid splendor. And then the blade came down at him.

Collin awoke with a start. He quickly surveyed the room, as if expecting one of his dream's players to be there, waiting. But there was nothing. It was only him in his room, surrounded in empty darkness. He laughed at himself for being so foolish.

He was startled again by the sound of someone descending the stairs. He frowned and looked at the clock: it was nearly midnight. Who would be up this late? Since he was already awake—and wondering if he'd be able to fall back asleep after his dream—he climbed out of bed and investigated.

The hallway felt unusually cold as he stepped out in his bare feet. He shivered, frowning to himself—it had seemed that only moments ago he was sweating in his T-shirt. Carefully he moved to the top of the stairs. He could hear Cid cursing to himself, and the front door being unlocked and opened. He moved down several steps in order to see.

The man at the door was shorter than Cid and directly in front of him, obscuring most of Collin's view. He could make out only that the man was rather well-built, based on his broad shoulders, and that he was wearing thick gloves. The kitchen lights reflected off of several colorful spheres placed in the gloves' included armlets.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Cid was saying. There was a strange tone in his voice; a combination of anger and anxiety. "Just passing through, I hope."

"I was invited," the stranger replied. His voice was low and rough, as if the man were unaccustomed to using it. The sound of it gave Collin a chill, and he wrapped his arms around himself. There was nothing threatening in it—it just felt wrong. He bit his lip and descended a few more steps to see better.

"Invited? By who?"

"Marlene said it was...his birthday."

Cid swore, turning his head away for a moment. Collin waited to see what he would do. There was a strange tension in the air, like thin wires stretching between the two men. Certainly they knew each other—but why would Dad be so upset? What was this man doing here in the middle of the night?

"Collin." His mother was suddenly beside him, tightening the robe around her waist. Her face reflected firm seriousness. "Go back to bed."

"Who is that?" he asked, watching with confusion as Cid began to go on about how his visitor was "unwanted" and should "get the hell away from" his family. "Does Dad know him? What's going on?"

"Nothing. Now go to bed." Shera stood and moved over to her husband, attempting to calm him. He would have none of it. Collin winced as the man's voice grew in volume and temper. Soon Marlene and Vincent had awoken and moved to join the discussion, which was quickly becoming an all-out argument. Collin watched from the stairway, a bit mystified by the scene that was taking place. He glanced to the top of the stairs, where his three sisters were crouched, casting curious glances his way. He shrugged.

Shera and Marlene began to urge Cid away from the door, still attempting to quiet his outburst. "You don't get it!" he nearly shouted. "I don't want him in this house!"

But Vincent had already motioned for the stranger to step inside. Collin leaned forward in anticipation at being able to see the visitor. He shuddered the moment he laid eyes on the man.

The stranger was a somewhat short, well-built man in his thirties, with sloppy blond hair that fell over his shoulders and face; he hadn't attempted to cut or comb it in months, or so it looked. He was dressed in dark, loose-fitting pants and a leather vest that was covered with dozens of straps and pockets. His boots were thick and worn, sporting just as many materia as his gloves. But these features were not what had given Collin such a fright; it was the man's eyes. They were a bright, iridescent blue—blue so brilliant that they almost seemed to glow in the darkness of the night. They were sharp and intense, unlike anything he'd ever seen. And though some part of him might have thought them to be amazing, he could feel only sick fear. A fear that churned in his gut like a pacing animal.

He closed his eyes so that he wouldn't have to look.

Vincent took notice of the boy's position of the stairs, but he didn't dare let his gaze linger there for long. Ignoring Collin's presence he led the visitor into the kitchen, offering him a chair. The man sat, his movements weary after so long a journey. "Can I get you anything?" Vincent asked. "You look exhausted."

"Water," the man replied quietly. "Just some water."

"Sure." Vincent quickly retrieved a glass of water, keeping an eye on Shera and Marlene's progress with Cid. The former Captain seemed to have calmed down somewhat, but was still casting suspicious glances at their visitor. Vincent sighed. He understood his friend's feelings, but he also sympathized with their cause. Unsure as to how he might handle this situation, he seated himself at the table. "Marlene invited you, didn't she?" he asked somewhat awkwardly. Despite all his time learning to adjust to being with people, conversation was still a basic skill that eluded him. "How did she get in touch with you?"

"I was in Cosmo Canyon when Nanaki received her invitation letter. When she heard from him, she wrote back suggesting that I come."

Vincent nodded, his gaze shifting momentarily to the boy that was still seated on the stairs, watching with wide, almost fearfully curious eyes. Again he pretended to ignore him. "We’ve been keeping up this tradition ever since Meteor," he said quietly. He paused. "I have always hoped you would come back. I think Cid did, too, but..."

"No." Cloud Strife set his glass down. "He doesn't trust me anymore."

"Cloud Strife?" Collin repeated in an exasperated whisper. He glared at Daryl in disbelief. "The real Cloud Strife?"

"It has to be," she argued knowingly. "I mean, look at him. The outfit, the materia—he's got two chocobos tethered outside. Do you realize how rare chocobos are now? And Dad knows him. It's gotta be him."

"His hair isn't spiky," Elly protest from behind them.

Daryl scowled. "That doesn't matter. But seriously, how can it not be him? And they say that Strife did disappear a while after the Fallout and has been wandering for years. Just look at him."

Collin did look, but then averted his eyes again. "He gives me the creeps," he muttered, unconsciously edging away. "How do we knew he isn't one of Dad's old enemies?"

"Yeah, like Rufus Shin-ra, back from the dead," Samantha mocked. "You can't believe everything Tess tells you."

"Hey, what are you all doing up?" The four started, and met their father's angry glare with trepidation. "Get yer butts back in bed," he instructed harshly, though his eyes kept glancing back at their guest. "Go to sleep for God's sake—you've got school tomorrow."

"Yeah, Dad," Daryl answered for all of them. "C'mon guys, we'll drill'em in the morning." Looking back one more time, she stood and started up the stairs.

Collin hesitated, still watching as Vincent and the stranger continued to speak. He wanted to know what they were saying. When he saw his father's expression, however, he knew better than to resist. Chewing his lip discontentedly he followed his sisters' example, returning to his room. Before he could climb in bed, however, the youngest, Elly, snuck inside. "Collin," she asked quietly, "do you really think it's Cloud Strife?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "But we can ask in the morning, okay? Now go to sleep."

"Okay." She turned and scampered out of the room.

Collin pursed his lips and finally climbed into bed, pulling the covers up under his chin. He still felt cold, and unsure. The sound of voices drifted up to him through the open door. He didn't want to close it, as if one of them would speak loud enough to give him a clue as to what was happening. No matter how hard he listened, however, he could not catch anything. Only the tones: Cid's anger; his mothers patience; Marlene's insistence; and Vincent's reason. And then the stranger, barely audible and hoarse. Eventually the sound of it forced him to close the door.

For a long time after Collin couldn't sleep. The images from his nightmare came back to him, and some new, more frightening visions: of the stranger, his blue eyes blazing, carrying a sword that hummed and glowed as if itself alive. It wasn't until he heard the front door slam that the unusual chill left the room, granting him some peace. The images abandoned him, fleeing to the deep recesses of his mind where they would wait for another opportunity to awaken. He closed his eyes, sighing deeply. He was about to attempt sleep once more when there was a knock on the door. It opened before he could answer.

It was his mother. "Collin, honey, are you all right?" she asked, stepping inside.

"Fine, Mom," he replied. "Just trying to sleep." He paused, sitting up in bed. "Mom, who was that?"

Shera faltered, her gaze seeking to escape his. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, Collin. Don't worry about it right now—he's gone." She crossed the room and kissed his forehead. "Now get some rest. You've got a busy day tomorrow, don't you?"

"I guess so." Collin smiled, for her sake. "Good night, Mom."

"Good night. I'll see you in the morning." She smiled back and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Collin sighed, lying back down. He stared at the ceiling. Cloud Strife his mind repeated over and over. I wonder if it really was....

The next morning all four children dressed quickly and hurried to surround the breakfast table. They eagerly awaited for everyone to be present before starting their interrogation. "So who—and what—was that last night?" Daryl asked immediately after her father had taken his seat. "And where did he go?"

"Damn, can't a man get his coffee before being put on the spot?" Cid replied, exasperated; obviously stalling. Shera didn't help by offering him his cup. He sipped from it for a moment, which only served to increase their curiosity. "It's not important. He's gone now."

Marlene bit her lip, looking as if she wanted to speak. His eyes instructed her otherwise. Vincent and Shera didn't look like they were about to speak, either. Collin frowned, shifting in his seat. He wanted to know—he had to know. "Dad," he asked in the brief silence that followed, "was that Cloud Strife?"

The four adults exchanged glances, and before Cid could protest, Vincent answered. "Yes, Collin. That was Cloud Strife from Avalanche."

"I knew it!" Daryl exclaimed with enthusiasm her father quickly admonished her for.

"Don't sound so damn happy," he rebuked.

Shera frowned. "Cid, please don't talk like that in front of Samantha and Elly."

"Uh...yeah." Cid rubbed the growing stubble of his beard, disconcerted. "But anyway, I don't want you going near him—any of you."

Elly pushed the cereal around in her bowl. "Why not? He's your friend, isn't he?"

Another uncomfortable pause followed. At long last Vincent pushed back from the table and stood. "I'll explain it," he said, the tone of his voice indicating that he would do so whether or not the others approved. He started out of the kitchen, and hesitantly, the four siblings followed.

Vincent took them into their father's workroom. Most of it was filled with an old Shin-ra automobile that, decades after its purchase, still lay in pieces about the hardwood floor. He seated himself on a stool, and his young audience found positions on the many crates and boxes that lay about. "What I'm going to tell you is very important," he told them in a serious tone. "You all know about what happened to Midgar, don't you?" He spoke the name quietly, as if the very sound of it could alert the New Griffin Clan which had destroyed Vandalee.

"It was the Dragon Clan," Samantha replied precisely. "They appeared and destroyed it."

"That's right. And you know that your father and I were there."

"Yes." Her siblings nodded solemnly.

Vincent paused then, as if unsure as to where he should begin. He left the stool, kneeling in front of them where they could see. "You see my eyes?" he said, gazing at each in turn. "They're red for a reason. Even if you've heard the stories, no one can understand what it's like until they've experienced it."

"You have the space alien inside you, right?" was Samantha's first question. "The one that was in...." She broke off. As logical and non-superstitious as she was, even she could not speak the name aloud.

"Yes," he replied, sitting down. "The same. I had a very difficult time with it for many years. But with a strong enough heart a man may defeat it and live happily." He smiled with a bit of rueful recollection. "And some may not."

Collin nodded slowly, as if he understood completely. He absorbed the story with wide, almost hungry eyes. "And Cloud Strife," he murmured. "He has it in him, too."

The older man appeared a bit disturbed by the boy's sudden comprehension. "Yes. None of us are sure for how long, or what effect it's had on him all this time, but after the Fallout...he became distant." He considered his answers for a moment more. "Once the alien was destroyed he, in a way, lost contact with reality. We tried to help him, but it only got worse. Eventually he set out alone."

His eyes met Collin's. The boy had never shrunk away from Vincent's gaze before, having known the man nearly all of his life, but something in it now caused him to shiver. There was something else. Something that had to do with him. Something frightening.

"So why is Dad so upset?" asked Daryl, resting her chin on her hands. "I mean, even if he's a little wacko, that doesn't mean we can't even let him through the door, does it?"

Vincent shook his head sadly. "Cloud hasn't been sane for years. Sometimes he imagines things. Those are the things that make him dangerous. He can't help it, and I wish...." He closed his eyes, for which Collin was strangely relieved. "I wish I could help him. I know how difficult it is. But he's unpredictable, and your father doesn't want to risk him hurting you, even if he doesn't mean to."

The three sisters exchanged glances, somewhat satisfied, but also sympathetic. Collin didn't look at them. He was watching Vincent, an odd stirring in his gut. He wanted to know what it was that let Vincent repent and recover, yet left his comrade in hell. Who decided that fate? And, more importantly, what did it have to do with him? Vincent was focused on him more than the others. Why was he special?

"Well, that's it," Vincent said abruptly, climbing to his feet. "He's likely to stay in town for a while, but don't go near him if you see him. He'll be able to take care of himself." He turned and strode from the room.

"Wow," said Samantha once he'd gone. "We had a psycho in our house last night."

"He's not a psycho," Elly quickly defended him. "He just...needs help." She turned to her brother. "Right, Collin?"

Collin's brow creased. "I don't know," he said absently. "But Vincent's not telling us something. There's something else."

Daryl chewed on her lip, taking the possibility very seriously. "Now that I think about it, there are still a couple members of...well, you know...that we haven't met. Nanaki and Yuffie came last year, but...."

"We're learning about it in class," Elly added helpfully. "There were nine originally."

Samantha clearly did not care for their interest. "They're probably all dead. I mean, if they weren't, then where are they? We've never seen them." She stood. "In any case, we're going to be late for school if we don't hurry. Let's just do what Dad thinks is right this time. That Cloud guy gives me the creeps anyway." She left the room, clearly ending the discussion.

Daryl shrugged, joining her. A moment later Elly did as well. Collin sighed and returned to the breakfast table, unable to shake the strange feeling in his stomach. He resolved to find his own answers.

The next day at school everyone was subdued. The normal bustle and Getting-Close-To-Summer Syndrome excitement was repressed, due to the recent catastrophe. Even the noted trouble-makers were quiet and respectful to the air of mourning. It made Collin uneasy. Whenever anyone looked at him their eyes were sharp and questioning, as if he somehow was involved in the matter. Some gazes were accusatory, some merely inquisitive, and even a few fearful. As a son of Cid Highwind he was used to being somewhat famous, but he didn't like this. He had nothing to do with Vandalee, or New Griffins, or the planet. He was just a high school freshman, just as confused and anxious as any of them.

Between fifth and sixth period he was finally able to spot Tess among the crowds of students milling about. He pushed his way through the mess, and finally caught up to her outside her next class. "Hey, Tess," he greeted awkwardly. The two of them weren't much more than acquaintances, and he wasn't sure how she would react to his proposal. "Can I talk to you a sec?"

"Sure." Tess waved to her friends, who shrugged and entered the class ahead of her. "What's up?"

"Well, this is kinda weird, but you know a lot about...the Fallout stuff, right?"

Her dark eyes watched him quizzically, clearly puzzled but also attentive. "Yes, you could say that. Is something the matter? You look a little weird."

Collin paused, unsure as to what she might have meant by "weird." "No, I'm fine. It's just, I need to know about all that stuff. Can we talk? After school?"

Tess considered, but with a smile. "Sure, I guess." Her smile grew into a grin, one that began to make him feel light-headed. "Cramming for finals last-minute?"

"Actually...Cloud Strife was in my kitchen last night," he blurted out.

"What?!" She was so surprised—and excited—that her books tumbled out of her arms. "He—he was? The real—"

"Shh! My Dad'll kill me if he finds out I told you." Collin bent down to pick up her books, and she joined him, if only so that they could speak privately. "Yes, the real Cloud Strife," he told her quietly. Her eyes widened like those of a hungry cat. "But my Dad kicked him out." Her expression fell. Fearful that she may lose interest, Collin quickly continued. "But he's still in the city. Vincent was telling me about him, but—"

"Wait a minute," Tess interrupted, her hand coming down on his wrist. The contact startled him. A moment later, however, he didn't mind anymore. "You said you know Vincent? Vincent...as in Valentine?"

"Uh, yeah." He realized his mistake too late. Vincent's presence in their house had always been somewhat of a secret; even those who knew he was there never related him to the former Avalanche member, as he was one of the lesser known of the group, and no one referred to them by name anymore. But of course Tess would know the details; it was her entire life.

"You have the Vincent Valentine in your house, and you never told me?" Tess continued, utterly astonished. "And, what, do you have Turks in your basement?"

"No, but you were right about the former President." When she nearly exploded in excitement he quickly said, "Just kidding, kidding. But can we talk after school?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, of course." She grinned—so wide that he thought he could see all her teeth. "This is amazing! How come you never told me before? I would die to meet all of them!"

Collin righted himself and she followed suit. He handed her her books. "Well," he said with a shrug, "you never asked."

Tess gave him a look of mock anger. "Yeah, yeah. But how about I meet you at the Coffee Hut after school? About three-fifteen? I don't like coffee, but they have good fries, and I'll have to go by my house to pick up some stuff."

"Uh, sure. That'd...be great." He smiled, only slightly disappointed at having not been invited to her house. "I'll see you then."

"Great. It's a date." She flashed him one final grin before disappearing into class, leaving Collin to ponder her last words.

--

After school Collin went quickly to the Coffee Hut and found himself a table—for two—near the large store window. At three-fourteen he ordered a plate of fries, and then waited, fidgeting nervous. A date? A real, guy-girl date? But, I've never been on a real date. What do I do? But this isn't a real date, because we're just meeting to talk about stuff. So how could it be a date? I didn't ask her out.

So Collin decided that it was not a date. It couldn't be a date, because he hadn't asked her out. He had simply suggested that they meet to talk about Cloud.

Cloud. The name resounded in his mind strangely, like an echo. He forced himself to forget his discomfort, however, when he spotted Tess approaching. She hurried inside and slid into the seat across from him. "Am I late?" she asked.

"No, not at all." He smiled at her somewhat rushed appearance. "You didn't have to run."

"I didn't want to keep you waiting." She quickly cleared their small table, and lifted a large, scrap-book-looking binder out of her bag. It was covered with a piece of duct tape, as if once sporting a label that had been concealed. "This is my father's scrapbook," she affirmed, her eyes nearly aglow with excitement. "He's been following Shin-ra ever since he was a kid, before the Fallout. He used to live in Junon with my mom, and became a pilot." She giggled. "Not as good as your dad, I'm sure, but he was part of the crew of the Highwind." She grinned at the surprised expression on his face. "I bet you didn't know that before."

"No, not really." He frowned. "But...."

"My dad changed his name after everything," she explained. "He used to be Todd Marks before he was Todd Raven. ‘Tess Raven' is a better stage name than ‘Tess Marks' anyway. It sounds like a board game."

Collin chuckled, but his attention was quickly drawn back to the scrapbook. "So what's in there?"

Tess grinned. "All sorts of stuff." She opened it for him to see. "Old magazine clippings, newspaper articles, photographs. Most of it's from him during training, or stuff about SOLDIER. He was really interested in that, but he never learned how to fight. Take a look."

He nodded, hesitantly accepting the book. "This thing's got to be worth a fortune," he murmured half to himself. "No one saves this kind of stuff anymore."

"My dad's like a packrat. But I'm afraid to show it to many people, because most of them are still superstitious."

Collin realized then that she was taking a bit of a risk in showing this possession to him. She must have cherished it, considering how much history fascinated her, and bringing it into public gave the possibility that it would be discovered and confiscated. From then on he treated the old pages as if they were the most ancient, important document in the world. He flipped through the old photographs, not really interested in the people he didn't recognize. Eventually he found an old newspaper clipping that caught his eye: a tall man dressed entirely in black, wielding a sword that was as long as his height. Collin could only stare. Though he perhaps should have felt some fear at seeing this—certainly anyone else in the store would have averted their eyes immediately—he didn’t. He saw only a man with a sword: a powerful man, granted, but just a man.

"That's him," Tess said in a kind of respectful whisper. Here eyes were wide, and though she'd probably spent hours at a time just staring at the picture, she held no less wonder for the ancient page. "The Great SOLDIER. Do you know what his name is?"

"Yes." It sounded like a strange question, but when Collin considered, he realized that most of the people now wouldn't know. The name itself was like a curse, not even spoken in whispers. He realized then that he wasn't even sure how he had known, as his father had never spoken of the Fallout to them directly. He'd learned everything from Vincent. But even Vincent had never said the name.

Sephiroth. He stared at the newspaper print, skimming through the article silently. It spoke of one of Sephiroth's missions to the Southern Islands around Mideel—not terribly exciting, in his opinion. He continued to flip through, until he discovered another report.

Sephiroth's death.

"Dad says it was pretty shocking," Tess interrupted his viewing again. "The strongest man in the world killed in a little town in the mountains. My Dad never heard the whole story, but it wasn't what's written in that report. He was driven insane by the Alien."

"Jenova," he whispered without thinking. Thankfully, no one was around to hear him. She nodded. He was beginning to recall what Vincent had told him that morning when a sudden chill came over him. Tess didn't seem to be affected by it, though, so he assumed it was his imagination.

"But I'm more interested in hearing about Vincent Valentine." Their fries arrived at last, and Tess momentarily covered the book while the waiter set out their plate. They pulled over an extra table to set the fries on so that they'd still have room for the book. Tess ate several fries, waiting for their server to go away, before continuing. "He lives with you, right? There's so little information on him."

"Vincent's...kind of shy." Collin shrugged, and kept paging through absently. "He doesn't talk about the Fallout much, but he does more than my Dad. He says it's important that at least one person always remembers what happened back then."

Her eyes again went wide. "So...does that mean he'd be willing to talk to me some time? About everything?"

"Well..." He paused, having come across another color photograph. It was larger than the normal ones, and retouched by a computer to show as much detail as possible. Collin stared, a bit disbelieving. It was Avalanche—all of them, standing amid a backdrop of colored lights and huge, golden buildings. He stared for a long time, his eyes drifting from one person to the next. It was a real photograph, of the real group, unlike so many fakes that had surfaced over the years from tabloids. He could tell, because each of them looked perfect, from the clothes to the expressions on their faces.

"Tess," he breathed, amazed by what he was seeing. He'd never seen any pictures of the group before. Not even Marlene had any. "Where did you get this?"

She smiled, appreciating how rare of a find it was with pride. "Isn't it something? My Dad found it in the Highwind, in a trash can. It was torn right down the middle. He thought it was a shame for something like this to be thrown away, so he saved it, scanned it, and fixed it. He's got the original at home." She looked to him, as if searching for approval. "The backdrop is the old theme park, Gold Saucer. Supposedly it was the last time they were all together."

Collin nodded. He felt the same chill as before, but he tried to ignore it again. "People would kill for this," he whispered, suddenly feeling as if he were the target for an assassin. "Our textbook's only got sketches, and they don't look anything like these. Except for the ones that are still alive."

He stared at the faces, half of them familiar and the rest not. Looking at Cloud dispelled some of the fear he'd had before; he didn't look like a psychotic. He looked perfectly happy. But that might have been the effect of having two beautiful women hanging on his arms. The one on Cloud's left was who their textbook referred to only as "The Devoted One," a gorgeous brunette wearing a white tank top and black mini-skirt. She was grinning, and he couldn't help but smile back, as if her jovial expression were meant for him.

When he looked at the other woman, however, a strange feeling rose inside him. She looked younger, her hair tied and twisted, her green eyes sparkling secretively. She was leaning her head against Cloud's shoulder, looking for all the world as if she'd won him at one of the carnival games. A scowl twisted the boy's lips. He couldn't explain it. Something in those eyes pulled to the surface a kind of contempt he rarely held for anyone. To hate the Flower-Seller was ridiculous and near sacrilege—Marlene had insisted to him several times that, despite the destruction of Midgar, the woman had saved the entire Earth with her care. But in looking at her, he felt only disgust.

The chill that had annoyed him only mildly now rose into an almost frightening shudder, and he sat back in his chair, startled. He realized a moment later that he was holding his breath. Tess was staring at him with puzzlement. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know." Collin turned his head away, hoping she wouldn't see his look of fear. His gaze penetrated the thin glass window to land on a figure standing outside the shop, and his instincts froze. It was a man, his blue eyes blazing and intense, his hands tightened into fists against the glass.

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To Chocobo's Nest