Okay, thanksgiving one-shot. (I know, it's a little late...) Not my best, but: Enjoy!
Of All Things
It was strange.
He was alone.
That was not strange, for he was always alone, but there was something unusual in the air. He could not place it. But like the blood that rushed through his veins (Blood that should have been spilled, blood that should have gone so that he could die and not be alone anymore…) He knew that there was something different.
No, it was not the absence as he called it, (Because he can't say it out loud, can't say what happened because then it might be real and he won't ever wake from this nightmare…) Perhaps it was instinct, for he cannot see the anomaly that he feels. Perhaps if he went to the others, he could figure it out.
But if he did that, he would have to leave. And he can't leave, (won't leave, will never leave because this pain is his bliss because somehow it is still her)
He leaves sometimes, because despite what he feels when he is gone, he knows that he is not alone, that others care for him. That he, (unwillingly, unwittingly,) cares for them too.
He would have to leave soon.
He did not want to, and yet he could not shake the feeling of strangeness. It was almost like her, a feeling in his chest threatening to burst, a feeling that cannot be possible because the last time he felt it was before she left forever. (Before her blood was spilled, before he stood and let it happen, let the sword fall and made no move to stop it. But that is okay, because now he suffers, as he deserves to suffer now that she is gone…)
He will stay a little longer, he decides. Because after all, he owes her so much, wants to give her so much…
So he sits down into his former position, crouching over the bright flowers. It is almost hungrily that he stands over them, keeping, guarding them as he could not guard her. He was to protect her, and he failed. So he would protect this brightness (and it is so much like her, he says to himself, as he has a hundred times before. So bright and beautiful and breakable. He has to hold them carefully, touch them lightly, lest they die in his arms like her)
Sometimes he thinks that he can hear her singing, feel her gently brushing his hair back. Her voice is in his mind, his soul, and his heart, echoing in his pain. Yet her words are kind, words he does not deserve to hear.
Sometimes he thinks that he can see her, kneeling beside him, smiling and twisting her hair in that habit she never broke, leaning forward, hands behind her back, to look him in the eye.
And for a moment he revels in her- in his everything, for she is his everything. He forgets his sin, his greatest shame and smiles back at her, reaching out to hold her- the world crashing down as she disappears before his fingertips can brush her skin.
This time he waits. He speaks out loud as he has before, yet she does not come. And (though he knows he deserves it, knows that this would be the greatest punishment, one that would perhaps redeem him, though he feels that he must forever suffer-) his heart swells in anguish as time passes.
Behind him, the door gently swings open.
He doesn't even wonder, or think because he knows that it isn't her, for if it was- his soul would be whole again. The footsteps are light, and he wonders why a child would come to him here.
"Cloud?"
And he looks up at the name, not because it is familiar, but because he knows the voice. A little girl stood a little away from him, brown hair in a braid, hazel eyes wide in innocence. He remembers her, remembers that she is important to him, though the memory seems like a hazy dream.
He nods at the girl, Marlene. She smiles and approaches him, arms swinging cheerfully (for this little girl is the only one besides her that could make even such basic movements so happy) so that she is right beside him.
"Today is a holiday. Everyone is celebrating."
He doesn't answer, hovering above the flowers. Marlene bends to touch them and he still does not move, for somehow he senses that it is okay if the little girl touches the flowers.
"Why aren't you with us Cloud? We all miss you…"
He nods again, another wave of guilt crashing over him.
She continues as if he did not move- for he isn't completely sure that he did.
"Tifa said that today is about telling people how grateful you are toward them. We wish with all our hearts for these people, we wish for our biggest dream for ourselves and for them. If we wish hard enough, it comes true." He bottom lip forms a light pout as she finishes with: "It's important that we give our thanks, that we know what we are thankful for."
For a moment there is silence, Cloud feeling the strangeness, the completeness within himself more than ever before.
"What are you thankful for, Cloud?"
He is so startled that he falls from his knees to the dusty floor. Suddenly, he sees it again: The light. The darkness. Two paths. All those years ago, he chose wrong. He lives on, but it is an unwanted life. Because he remembers- he feels- the pain. It never stops. He doesn't want it to stop, because he can't ever forget. That moment, that life, of all things...
Suddenly he's talking, speaking words he cannot track with his mind.
"…A lot of things. Memories. Flowers. Rain. The fact that Sephiroth is dead. That my friends are alive…stuff I don't really understand. Mostly I am thankful for my fall."
"Fall?" Marlene is confused.
Cloud wordlessly points to the roof, where a rather larger hole lets in much of the sunlight.
"If I hadn't fallen, I never would have landed here, and I never would have known…her…"
"Ah." Marlene doesn't need to ask who she is, for she can feel it too.
They stand in silence for a moment, Marlene gazing at him with questioning eyes. Looking back at her, He sees that she is frowning.
"If you are thankful to the flower-lady, why don't you go tell her?"
He cannot answer- stunned into disbelief, waiting for the pain to start anew. Marlene suddenly grabs his hand, dragging him to the still open door. He is too shocked to resist or speak, eyes wide.
"Come on," Marlene cries, pulling harder on his hand. "You don't want to keep her waiting too much longer!"
She is pulling him pas the busy streets, the filthy streets where she used to walk, selling flowers. Marlene is slowly pulling him toward Tifa's Bar, and he can feel the Completeness again, the strange feeling that he cannot grasp.
TheFinal Heaven is before them now, a flurry of movement can be seen inside. Marlene releases his hands, turning to whisper: "I'll go in and distract them, you go and thank the flower-lady. Just follow your soul."
She runs then, swinging the door to the bar open and rushing inside.
He feels a tugging in his heart, in his soul, and follows after her.
It is all passing him in a rush now, the chairs and the door, the glasses and the distant voices- but they don't matter. Where he is going is the only thing that matters now.
He turns left and right, feet moving of their own accord beneath him. He does not know what awaits him, but he knows where to go. The door to his room swings open, and he is standing there, the feeling sustaining, flowing, completing his soul and heart. Somehow he didn't think or hope.
He just knew.
"You've kept me waiting a while. But you came, even though you are breaking. But perhaps, that is why you came…"
She is sitting on his bed, hair chestnut gold and eyes gleaming like leaves parting the sun. She smiles at him, and he feels himself fall to his knees.
Her eyes are bright with unshed tears as she stands. She walks toward him, feet bare and light on the wooden floor. Her hands touch his shoulders and suddenly he cannot hold himself anymore, he is shaking and falling because this cannot be real. (Surely this is a dream, a new punishment, for he could not possibly deserve the real thing…)
"Cloud, I am so sorry…" She is embracing him now, and he tries to grasp at her meaning as she holds him up.
How could she be sorry- he failed. He…let her die. And he deserved to suffer eternally for it…
"I never blamed you, Cloud…I left you here to fend for yourself…"
But she is with him now. He feels his soul become whole, and knows that it is because of her. His arms shake as they wrap around her as well.
"Don't apologize…" He says it roughly, unable to hear such damning words from her lips.
"And don't blame yourself," She chides him lightly, laughing as they draw slightly away from each other, to gaze upon the other's face. Their eyes meet, and such a profound clarity consumes him, that he knows what he must say, what he must do. As one, they hold each other close again.
And together, as one they murmur into the others' ear-
"Thank you, for my everything…"