A/N: right, I'm supposed to be writing a 2000 word essay on the famous Leibniz calculator, the second invention of the most commonly used calculating machine known as the calculator. But instead I wrote a 2000 word fanfiction story... enjoy.

It was that day, the particular day that his burden was lifted; the day that his life was given back to him when his life was replaced with happiness. That was the day she stood before him and asked him whether he loved her and it only became a better day when he told her he already did and always had. He hadn't thought of it often, hadn't remembered it that much. It was always like a part of his memory that he didn't have to think twice about. The type of memory that's just there and even though you don't know it, it's still there, always there.

But it was times like this that he remembered. In the darkest hours of the night when everyone's asleep, he remembers his past, and he remembers everything.

She was like a memory to him, the one with brown hair, dark brown eyes; his first friend. She was like this single most precious thing in his life that he thinks about every day; the thing that he keeps in his heart, that stands quietly beside his soul. She is like a thing that is always there even if you don't see it, it's standing beside you. A kind of guardian, the type that loves you and cares for you, and the type that watches out for you and makes sure you're out of trouble. But she's not so much a guardian; he's more of her guardian than anything.

He feels slightly guilty, sad in some ways, because he wasn't all that great of a guardian. He did not do what guardians were supposed to do; in fact he did the opposite, he ran away from her, left her because he didn't want to hurt her. He didn't like his mind, he didn't like the fact that he was not what he used to be. He knew it, she knew it, but she was still there, always there for him. Even when he was a stranger to her; even when he was a stranger to himself, she always seem to know him better than he did.

He didn't understand it, didn't know why she was always there for him. It ached him to know it, ached him to feel it and see it, but he still did it, still ran away. He was dying, and she knew it, but she didn't fear it. She was always the optimistic one between them. She was always telling him that things would turn out fine, that things will work out one way or another. And as much as he wanted to believe her back then, he just couldn't, because it was pretty fixed in his mind. It was a one way street, a one way path that he knew he was going to walk. It was the type of thing he couldn't run from, that he couldn't hide from even though he didn't want to face it.

And he thinks that maybe he wasn't all afraid of her, that he was more afraid of himself. More afraid that he would disappoint her. His thoughts take a turn in things as he shakes off the memories for a moment.

His eyes linger over his little family, the people that have now become the very core of his existence. The very will of his soul generating energy; they did not know how much he truly was thankful for their warmth that they give him, they don't know, but he knows it, and he thanks them silently every day.

His eyes glance to each face, memorizing the look of complete peace in each expression. The first face is smaller than his, slightly like hers, but more so like him when it came to expression. This face had lighter hair, slightly brown, slightly blonde, a perfect mixture. She had long hair, long brownish-blond hair touching her shoulders, draping down her back. She was the touch of beauty in his life, the perfect mixture of her parents.

He treasured her eyes most of all, her dark brown eyes that she got from her mother, that always had a serious look to them. He has always thought that she got that from him, the serious expression that was one part serious, another part gentle. It was the times she stared at him that made his world stop only for a moment, making him ponder how wonderful it was to stare into the eyes of his own child.

Then there was the other face, the even smaller one, younger one in fact. The one that lay curled up against his mother, tightly holding her hand and burying his back against his mothers chest. He was beautiful like her and his sister beside him.

He had brown hair like his mothers, a gentler look like her too. He wasn't like his sister, his eyes were blue and his hair was brown. He was like the exact half and half of his parents, where as his sister was a perfect mix. He wasn't serious like he was, he was much like his mother in many respects when it came to emotion. He was gentler at things, and always believed in a positive outcome of things.

The other two in his life wasn't really with them right now, they were with Barret, gone off to some camp out in the wilderness. But although they weren't his biologically, they were still his either way. They were still their first children, their first responsibility together.

He wasn't around much when they were younger, but he made it a point to do so now. He was always home by dark, always there, always ready to be the guard of the family. Always ready to lend an ear when problems arose, always there to help them with school work. He wanted it that way, wanted to always be there for his little family.

His thoughts drifted when his eyes came to rest on the one that made his life full; the face that was like his, same size but different in so many ways. She was not much like him, but she was his opposite, the balance that kept them total. She was the thing that kept him going, the thing that taught him many things in the past, today and tomorrow. She was always teaching him something new, always telling him that he's doing fine but he knows he really isn't. She's always optimistic, always open to ideas, always ready to say 'we can do it'.

She had said it once to him, 'we can do it, just as long as we're together,' always the bright light in his darkness. She always was the better of him, always the one that made him want to be a better man and she has in many ways. She's become that stone in his life, the stone that never perished that never faded. The stone that never changed, that never dissolved, only remain smooth and solid. She was the stone that he clung on to, the stone that always watched out for him. That always told him when he was doing something wrong.

She was a beautiful stone, a beautiful woman, the one that lay in their bed right now. Her hair was long, brown as it fell down her back and to her pillow. She had her arm around their kids, a gentle but secure hold on both of them. She was always like that, always the one that kept a watchful eye over her young. She always had the mother instinct in her, almost like it was some natural force in her body that was simply built into her soul.

It made him smile a little, made his heart lift a few beats when he saw her hand coming to rest on her slightly rounded stomach. They were going to have another one soon, another edition to the ever growing family. At first he wasn't accustom to babies, partly because he had never thought he would have kids and partly because these babies were more special because they just weren't any one else's, they were hers, his, the ones that they made, together.

They needed a special touch, a special identification that only few would he let touch. They were small, part him, part her, a bit of both of them all rolled into one.

His smile broaden when he saw her eyes flutter open, she looked at him, a serious look but with a small smile on her lips. He puts a finger to his lips, telling her to not wake the kids.

He makes his way to her, quietly walking against the cold floor and around their bed so he could give her a kiss. She shifts in the bed, covering their kids before she does anything. It always makes his heart warm, always makes him know that somehow he always knew that they were going to fall in love. That they were going to end up together.

She shifts and lies on her back this time, waits till he sits down on the bed beside her before she says anything.

He gives her a small smile as he places his hand beside her waist and looks down at her. He leans down slowly and he presses his lips to her, before murmuring quiet sweet nothings in her ear.

"What are you doing awake?" she asks him quietly, flattening down some bits of his bed hair on his head.

"I was thinking," he tells her and holds her hand in his and presses a kiss at her palm.


He leans down again and presses a kiss at her forehead.

"You," he answers.

"Just me?" she asks with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"How lucky I am, to have you and the kids," he says.

"I know, I go through some of those moments too," she tells him sincerely as she traces the back of her fingertips against his cheek.

He doesn't say anything for a while, and she probably senses the emotion in the air. The moment when words doesn't really speak but simply staring into her eyes spoke more. She smiled wider in an instant, and made a dash for his hand and placed it against her slightly exposed stomach.

He feels nothing at first, just warmth from her stomach. But then he feels a small bubble like kick, a small tiny bump at his hand. His smile widens, showing his teeth through a sheepish smile.

He imagines a little leg, the tiny one that he had a hand in creating; the tiny leg that was separated by his hand by mere inches of flesh. It only made him smile wider when he realized that their little creation lay within her, the creation that he could hold and look upon and know that everything was okay. The one that was going to be part of their family soon.

"I love you," he says suddenly, leaning down and pressing his forehead against hers, ignoring the fact that his hand is still resting on her stomach.

"I know," she says and presses a soft kiss at his lips, "I love you too."

"Tifa," he says, catching her eyes as he looked into her soul, "do you ever think of the past?"

She nods her head and whispers, "yes."

"When I think about the past, I can't help but ask myself what took me so long to finally say it to you," he says.

"All that matters is that you said it, Cloud," she whispers with a reassuring smile, "And look where we are now," she looks beside her, and he follows her gaze.

She looks back at him, and she shifts to make space for him in the bed.

"You know, sometimes I think that maybe things happen for a reason," she whispered as she snuggled against his side, burying her face in the crook of his neck, "Could you imagine me with this huge stomach and fighting Loz?"

He chuckles softly, and presses a kiss at her forehead. "No, I don't suppose I can imagine that," he smiles, "But if you did, then I'd call you super mum."

He feels her lips curl to a smile against his skin, and he tightens his hold at her waist when he feels the little bubbly kick at his side this time.

"I think he's going to be good fighter," he tells her.

"How do you know it's a he?" she asks him, a smile at her lips.

"Well, I didn't want to call it an 'it'," he says.

"True," she agrees.

The bubbly kicks grew timid, and then finally it stopped, letting a great sigh escape her lips.

"Finally," she mumbles sleepily, "I can sleep now since the little one has gone to sleep."

"Does he do it often?" he asks, "Kick you I mean."

"Yeah, you know maybe you're right about him being a good fighter," she says, "But I think he's cheating."


"He's practising how to fight even before he's born," she says.

He chuckles, and presses another kiss at her head. "I love you, Tifa, more than anything in the world."

"I love you too, Cloud," she answers with yawn.

The yawn that tells him that his world is complete and that his burdens have all been lifted by a simple little yawn. It was all a memory, just a simple memory and it led him to here; to a place where his life became more than it had ever been. He could only look back on it, and not regret running away, because somehow by some miracle, he ended up running back to the one thing he ran from. He ended up next to her, where he always belonged.

He looked down at her and he smiled, because as messed up his life was, they were here now and that was all that mattered.