AN:// Something I cooked up at midnight. Please don't take too seriously!

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"Welcome to the Sanctuarii. You must be Cloud, am I right?"

Cloud Strife, never-was-a-SOLDIER First Class, just looked at the woman with the clipboard for a moment, before nodding warily. He had no memory of arriving at this place – the last thing he could recall was going to sleep in Aeris' church. He looked around, trying to pick up anything that might trigger some remembrance, but it was no use. The cool blue walls and high ceilings were like nothing he'd seen before, though it for some reason reminded him of the church. It was calm, peaceful, but not as organic. His attention was brought back to the woman when she discreetly cleared her throat; he took note of her plain white dress and pinned back dark hair, but other than that it was as though he was looking through a fog. He could see her eyes, and her nose, and her mouth, but he couldn't remember what they looked like long enough to build a picture of her actual face. It was disorientating, and disturbing, so he thought that this was probably a dream.

"If you'll come this way, I'll show you your rooms and give you the grand tour of the Sanctuarii. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask," she said in the tone of a tour guide. It was obvious she'd done this many times before, and was anticipating his questions before he'd even decided to ask them.

"Where am I? Apart from being in some sanctuary," he asked. It was strange. He couldn't think clearly enough to ask anything but the obvious, and he couldn't think clearly enough beyond that to wonder, except in a distant way, why that was and why it was so wrong.

"You are in a refuge, of sorts. It has been decided that you need a break from what you were doing – it was fighting a threat to the Planet's welfare, correct? Not Deepground or Sephiroth, though, the notes would be clearer if it were – and so you were sent here for recuperation after the intensive torture and humiliation. It is standard for all heroes and their helpers," she reeled off. Cloud noted with a hazy thought that even her voice was difficult to pin down. His thoughts were becoming less and less clear as he fought to understand why this was, so he began to relax, comparing the sensation to ropes tied to tighten as you struggled.

"I... see. Are there... more?" he asked, struggling to focus enough to ask.

"Yes. There are currently sixty-three Clouds in residence, though we've had over fourteen hundred pass through so far. There are others, too; Squall is a common visitor, as is Vincent and on occasion Zidane. Some do come back time and again – the Authors put them through so much – but for the most part it is a once in a lifetime experience to be enjoyed and appreciated."

"The... Authors?" he asked. The question was followed by a surge of the fog that was clouding his thoughts, as though something was highly opposed to him knowing about it. This was further enforced by her slight nervous giggle and inexpert avoidance of the question.

The woman took his hand, and gently led him forwards through a corridor with many, many doors. Each one was closed, showing only wood and a single name: Cloud Strife. Each name had a number after it, to differentiate the inhabitants. The woman led him to a room with his name and the number 1471 before speaking again.

"Now, you seem to have had difficulty in adjusting to the Sanctuarii, so the tour will have to commence tomorrow. Your companion, or Buddy, is waiting in your room. She is a reflective being who will be perfect for your recuperation and rehabilitation, acting in every capacity you require of her and acting as your friend and guide during your stay here. I shall leave you now to become acquainted with her, and dinner will be at seven. Your Buddy will take you to the Dining Hall."

Cloud obeyed without fuss as she opened the door and gently pushed him inside. Sitting on the small alcove bed that faced the larger, more luxurious bed he supposed was for his own use was a girl who, much like the woman, was very difficult to pin down in terms of features. Unlike the woman, however, it grew clearer as he stared. Her hair was waist-length and coloured brown with the gentlest of red highlights, and her lips were full and pink. Her face as a whole was extremely pretty, although her eyes were closed, hiding them from view. She was slender, and well-proportioned, though she looked as though she would be a little shorter than him if she stood. Her clothes, which he could have sworn was a white dress identical to the woman when he first looked, were actually stylish blue jeans with a simple black polo jumper. Cloud stepped closer, wondering hazily if she was asleep, when her eyes flicked open to reveal a blue that could rival his own.

"Cloud! You really are having difficulty accepting this, aren't you?" she asked him in a melodic voice. "I'm you Buddy, Mary-Sue – please, call me Mary. I'm here to make everything wonderful; but perhaps you'd be better off having a short nap. After that, I'm absolutely positive we'll be the very best of best friends!"

Cloud agreed with her about the sleeping – his mind was so hazy now, it was difficult for him to lift his feet and make his way to the bed – but couldn't imagine him and this silly girl being... what was it? 'The very best of best friends'? Though just thinking about that made his head spin even more, so he mentally shied away and chose to accept it. Flopping heavily onto the white satin of the bed linen, Cloud allowed his eyes to close and sleep to overwhelm him.

Meanwhile, Mary was watching all this with a hint of concern. Once she was sure he was asleep, she went over and pulled off his boots before adjusting him so he was lying the correct way on the bed with ease that didn't suit her fragile looks. She walked over to the floor-length mirror in the bathroom to study herself, and sighed.

"An overly-protective type, huh? Well, better than the self-abusives," she told herself, before returning to her alcove and closing her eyes, waiting for Cloud to need her again.

It looked like he'd be asleep for a while, considering how fiercely he had fought their interference. If he hadn't accepted it in a day, he'd be sent back. After all, there was no point in a recovery service that damaged the goods now, was there? And there was always an Author willing to use and abuse a Cloud enough for them to need this break from their reality.