The springs of the mattress creaked under his weight when he shifted positions. Sephiroth lay on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling. The only light in the room was the eerie red glow of the clock. Sky blue eyes slowly shifted to glance at the numbers.

3:30 and here I lie awake. Stuck with these memories and nothing to keep them away.

He couldn't remember the last time he was simply able to lay and think. His mind was always occupied with one thing or another. Yet the current situation left him with nothing to do. Unable to go anywhere for fear of being discovered and Aerith refused to speak with him.

Aerith.

As hard as he tried, his mind was always wandering back to the Cetra. At times he could still feel the cold grip of Masamune in his hand as it plunged deep into the Cetra's body. Seeing in his mind the splatter of crimson blood on his black boots.

With a groan he grabbed a pillow and smothered his face with it. But still his mind was flooded with images. He was Sephiroth, the best general Shinra ever saw. He didn't deserve these thoughts and images. In his mind he could remember palming the fire materia. Still feel the flames licking at his body as Nibelheim burned.

A blonde woman lying on the floor of a house. A beam from the ceiling crushing her fragile body. An immense pain deep within his chest.

Sephiroth shot straight up, the pillow lost to the floor. Those thoughts and feelings had not been his own. Somewhere, deep within his subconscious, Strife was there.

So Strife, you haven't completely left your body after all. Does that mean there is still hope?

When it was morning he would have to ask Aerith if she had any lingering thoughts that didn't belong to her. A frown overtook his face, remembering that Aerith was a Cetra. She probably has many memories that didn't belong to her. Yet it wouldn't hurt to actually ask to see. Perhaps some of the memories were distinct enough to be recognized as Tifa's. He had been thinking about Nibelhiem when that thought had overtake him.

With another glance at the clock he realized he had been lying there for almost an hour. Rubbing his head he wondered if he had fallen asleep momentarily and that was why he had those thoughts. Swinging over the bed he grabbed the discarded pillow and propped his head up lying back finally. Heavy eye lids began to slowly drift shut and sleep overtook him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Warm water cascaded over the pale skin. Aerith slowly washed the soap from her body, enjoying the feel of the water against her skin. With a mental shake she remembered that it wasn't actually her body. Her body was lying under a watery grave where she had died. The water from the shower had made her recall that day. It also had brought about more memories. Touching her midsection out of reflex she sighed remembered that there was no mark.

It had taken her a few days to get accustomed to being in Tifa's body. Slippery fingers traced the scar the ripped across Tifa's body. It started above her left breast and ran diagonal between her breasts almost crossing onto her back. Once she had asked Tifa about the angry red scar on her body.

"I got this scar trying to stop Sephiroth when I was younger. You could call it the price I had to pay."

Those words had never left her mind, digging in and finding a home. With a mental shake she sent the thoughts away. Grasping the handle, with a twist to the left the water slipped away. Stepping out of the shower she shivered as the cold air tickled her skin. Shaking hands grabbed the maroon towel she had tossed on the closed toilet seat.

Beads of water were pooling on her skin as she dried herself off. Slipping the robe on she twisted her long brown hair up in the towel. With one finally glace at Tifa's face in the mirror Aerith opened the door.

Aerith froze in the doorway, one hand clutching the bathrobe tight over her ample chest. Sephiroth stood in the doorway in nothing but a pair of boxers, a large towel under one arm. He looked her up and down then focused on her face.

"Finished with the bathroom," he asked in a sullen voice.

Aerith tried to keep her eyes from roaming downwards. Sephiroth wasn't helping much as he leaned against the door frame with a sigh. Running his fingers through spiky blonde hair made it even worse. A seductive smile played on his lips and Aerith fumed.

"Like what you see?"

"No!" Aerith said, her cheeks flushing pink

"Good," Sephiroth said, his voice slipping over her skin like satin. "That means you don't like Cloud. One day you'll see me in my own body and your answer will be different."

"You are full of yourself," she snapped.

"No, just confident," he explained with a smirk.

She wanted nothing more that to slap that smirk off his face. Two fingers gently touched the sleeve of her robe and she had enough. The sounds of flesh striking flesh echoed through the bathroom. Slowly she lowered her stinging hand, hardly believing what she had just done.

"Bitch," Sephiroth snarled as an angry red welt blossomed on his cheek.

I can't believe I just slapped him! I have never struck a person like that before.

"Get out of my way."

Aerith could almost see the gears working inside his brain. For a moment she feared the he would strike her. Slowly he stepped aside and gave her a mock bow, allowing her to pass. Heavy footsteps carried her out of the bathroom and down the hall to Tifa's room. The heavy bedroom door slammed shut and finally she could relax. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until her chest began to burn. Cool air invaded her lungs, her shoulders slumping.

I hate this.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Woman! Sit down," Sephiroth snapped as he entered the living room.

Aerith froze, one hand gripping the arm of the chair. Her legs were bent as she had been trying to stand. With a frown she refused to obey and rose to her feet.

"Don't tell me what to do," her voice was heavy when she spoke.

"It's been two weeks already. Every time I walk into a room you get up and leave," he explained dropping onto the couch.

"One can't really blame me," she spoke.

Whatever Cloud did to his hair to make it spike Sephiroth refused to do. It was still foreign to her seeing his long blonde hair cascading around his face.

"What are you looking at," he asked, seeing her stare.

"Your hair."

Reaching up he grabbed a few golden locks and waved them in front of his face watching the strands. "His hair is naturally spiked. I just use some…"

Covering her mouth she fought hard not to giggle. Apparently he wasn't sure what he used.

"Well?"

Hair fell back into place when he released it. "What are you laughing at? I was a general for Shinra, not a hair care specialist."

That comment was too much for the former flower girl. Collapsing back into the chair in a fit of giggles brought another frown to Sephiroth's face.

"I don't see the humor in it."

Aerith opened her mouth to speak again when the sound of knocking cut her off. Eyes snapped to the front door, neither making a move.

"Open the damn door," the familiar voice of Cid Highwind bellowed.

"Wonderful," Sephiroth sneered softly, with a roll of his eyes. "You deal with it. I'm locking myself in Strife's room."

Wide eyes watched as Sephiroth stalked from the room, jumping slightly as a door down the hall slammed shut. Although she couldn't really blame him, she was dreading the day she would have to pull off being Tifa with the rest of the group. With a deep breath she pushed out of the chair and walked to the door.

"Hi Cid," she greeted swinging the door open.

"About damn time. How are you doing?"

"Pretty good," Aerith said refusing to meet his eyes. "What are you doing here Cid?"

"Cloud here," Cid asked, glancing around her to peer into the living room.

"He's not home," she said swiftly. As much as she wanted to see the old pilot again now was not the best time. "I'll tell him you came by."

"Anything wrong," Cid asked finally looking at her.

"No!"

One eyebrow shot into his hairline at the quickness of her words. Mentally, she gave herself a shake, forcing herself to calm down.

"I think he said he went to Midgar for something," she said, forcing herself to lie. "I would try there."

Digging a cigarette our of his pocket the old pilot finally nodded. "Well, I will see you around."

"Bye Cid," she waved shutting the door behind him. "You can come out now."

Silence echoed through the small house and Aerith began to grow impatient. Come on Sephiroth, stop being such a jerk and open the door.

"Cid's gone! You can stop hiding," she called walking down the hallway.

Stopping at the door she looked it up and down, waiting. Still no sound emerged from the single occupant. Grasping the door handle she found it to be unlocked. Slowly she opened the door, pushing it open. Glancing around the door she fought hard not to laugh.

Sephiroth was laying spread eagle across the mattress, asleep.

"And here I was thinking general's didn't need sleep," she commented with a laugh slowly closing the door.

With her back resting against the door she gave a quiet sigh. Letting her mind wander she simply relaxed for a few minutes.

Angry words being shouted through a closed door. Bitter tears flowing down crimson stained cheeks. Slowly the feeling of lost grew. Rejection shattering her fragile heart.

With a gasp Aerith grabbed her chest fighting hard against the tears that mingled within her eyes. Chest heaving with each breath she tried to slow her breathing. Those were memories that didn't belong to her. They had to have been Tifa's thoughts.

Poor Tifa, Aerith though recalling the bitter memories. Those angry words, I recognized that voice. It belonged to…

"Cloud."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Authors Note: We have lost our beloved Angel. She ditched me for the Air Force! Although the plot is a joint idea, the writing will now be all Tifa Gainsborough. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry it took so long, I own nothing.