Everyone kept telling him it was impossible: impossible to be true, an impossible dream, in general just an impossibility.

He really hated that word, impossible.

At one time, they would have said it was impossible for him to feel emotions. Impossible to become human, whatever that word technically was supposed to mean. He was a clone; he had no personality of his own. It was impossible to change. Impossible to miss someone so much that it was all-consuming.

Well, they were wrong.

Cloud dug his heels into the sides of his chocobo, letting out a shout to go faster. She squawked in response, ruffling her golden feathers angrily as she immediately halted, nearly throwing him forward to the frozen ground. He straightened, glaring angrily at the back of her head as he climbed down, carefully stepping onto the icy walkway on which they had stopped.

"Do we have a problem?" he asked, holding the reins tightly. The chocobo looked at him and cocked her head quizzically. He knew she couldn't respond, of course, but he felt a bond between them since raising her from birth and respected her opinions, nonverbal as they were.

"Wark!"

"Yeah, I know you don't like traveling in the cold," he said, patting her head. He ran his hand over her neck feathers, tousling them the wrong way to make them stick out amusingly. She made an annoyed sound and bent her head, attempting to groom them the correct way. He sighed. Chocobos were so vain.

Glancing around, he could tell they were getting close. Any traces of green, healthy landscape were long gone, exterminated by endless miles of frozen terrain. Large piles of boulders decorated the ground around them, threatening to collapse and crush anyone that dared disturb the area. A small trail was just ahead; he could see the opening of a cavern far in the distance, knowing that's where he needed to be.

"Come on, let's get going," he said out loud, patting her head once more in a reassuring manner. She let out another noise, this time more sympathetic, and nudged her beak against his face, nuzzling his cheek. He smiled and awkwardly hugged her head before climbing back onto the saddle, reins in hand. They took off at a quicker pace, refreshed from the momentary break.

Within the hour they were standing in front of the cavern opening, peering into the unending darkness. Cloud scratched his head, looking over at the chocobo, who was shivering slightly a few feet away. She looked hungry and scared. He didn't blame her. He was as well.

"Okay, I guess this is it," he said, walking over to her. "Thanks for taking me this far. You should go back to the others. I'll find another chocobo around here when I'm done, all right?"

She squawked and arched her back, adjusting her feathers. The ones on her head were standing straight up, trying to warn him that it was dangerous inside. He smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I know. I'll be fine." He reached over his shoulder, lightly touching the hilt of his sword. "I have protection."

With a final squawk the chocobo took off in the opposite direction, instinctively heading towards her home stables near the ruins of Midgar. Cloud turned back to the massive hole in the rocks and steeled his resolve, knowing this was what he had to do. With a deep breath he stepped into the unwelcoming darkness.

He was immediately met with a sharp edge of an ice ridge slicing open his hand. Quickly moving to the other side of the entrance he let out a shocked yell a second later, ripping off a piece of the green scarf wrapped around his neck. He quickly bound the gaping wound, tucking the edges of the makeshift bandage under itself. Letting out a colorful string of choice expletives as he continued on his way, he couldn't help but pause and chuckle afterwards. He'd probably sounded just like Barret or Cid back there.

The next hour was thankfully uneventful. The cave seemed to be moving in on itself as he walked, and he noticed after a short time that he was climbing upwards. He knew the crater was just ahead, simultaneously dreading the inevitable moment he arrived yet excited at the possibilities ahead.

He'd had a dream. Many dreams, to be truthful.

It was a long time ago, quite a few months after they'd defeated Sephiroth and restored peace to the planet. He had gone to bed like any other night, exhausted after helping rebuild town after town, trying to make good on his promise to be a better person, more human, more understanding.

Usually as soon as his head hit the pillow he was asleep—standing in an old church, surrounded by partially-grown flowerbeds. The early morning sunlight was streaming through old stained glass windows decorating one side, partially cracked but still amazing in their detail. He stood in the center of the area, where the flowerbeds met with their corners, and raised his head to look at the ceiling. Rafters and nothing more awaited him, but each night he continued to look, unsure of what he was searching for.

He knew she would show him someday.

That's why he was here. Every night, it was the same place, the same dream. She was trying to tell him something, but he just wasn't able to figure it out.

He considered telling someone, but the only person who would probably understand was Tifa, and he didn't feel comfortable talking to her about her. It was just too uncomfortable.

That night, when he went to sleep, he didn't wake up in the church. He woke up in the crater. At first he had no idea where he was, surrounded by darkness punctuated with swirls of green light, threads so thin they were barely there, until he remembered—and then the threads grew in size, becoming thicker and longer until all he could see was a wall of pale green light surrounding him in all directions. He started walking and was able to push through the walls, the threads soft to the touch, as though it was water that had been stagnant for a considerable amount of time. He supposed that was an accurate description, as that was essentially what the lifestream was—energy that had been collected from the planet, stored deep inside until the day it was needed.

A voice had called to him the moment he touched the lifestream, filling his head with such emotion that he staggered backwards, nearly falling over. He caught his balance and steadied himself, looking around, but the lifestream was all he could see, surrounding him, encompassing the original darkness, bringing hope. He'd said her name aloud and the lifestream pulsed, as though it was a heartbeat—her heartbeat, waiting for him.

He woke up then, out of breath and sweating heavily, sitting straight up in bed. The window was cracked open and he looked at the windowsill, noticing something thin and green trailing inside at the corner. He reached out and it moved like a breeze picking up a thread, flitting just out of his reach. He knew then that it hadn't been a dream.

She was reaching out to him, and he only needed to listen to find her.

He continued climbing in the cavern, noticing that the walls were finally beginning to widen again, making him feel less like a trapped animal. He leaned against one wall, steadying his footing, and relaxed for a moment, catching his breath as his shoulders sagged. It was tiring, not at all like helping repair roof leaks or rebuild water wells. All those required was concentration and some skill with bricks or a hammer, not the physical exertion he was currently suffering.

A noise just ahead caused him to raise his eyes and survey the darkness, hoping that he was still alone. Encountering some sort of rabid beast in this enclosed of an area wasn't going to end well for anyone. Nothing seemed to be nearby so he gathered what remained of his strength and forged on.

As he approached what finally seemed to be the end of the tunnel, he noticed a small pile of rocks in the middle of the pathway, looking as though they had just been scattered. He knelt down and picked one up, rolling it between his hands. They didn't seem out of the ordinary; he wondered what happened to have caused them to fall down.

He started to stand up but stopped suddenly, noticing something glinting underneath the pile of rock. Reaching down, he easily swept a few away, uncovering a small, glowing stone, perfectly round and unscathed, though still partially buried in the ice.

He carefully chipped it out of the ground using a small throwing knife and freed it from its icy prison, holding it with both hands. The glow surrounding it seemed to intensify the moment the stone touched his skin, filling the cavern with an intense white light. His eyes started to burn, but not from the brightness—he rolled the stone into one hand and lifted the other towards his face, wiping away a tear that had escaped his eye, having already stained his cheek.

"Am I getting close?" he asked the light, already knowing no one was there to answer him. The light pulsed with some sort of response, and he smiled, feeling her presence all around. Taking that as an answer, he got to his feet and unhooked his sword from his back, bringing it around his body to look at it. He carefully set the stone into one of the materia slots, watching it bind to the metal, glowing softly. Trying to control his overwhelming emotions, he started walking out of the light, towards the exit he had seen previously.

When he emerged from the darkness of the tunnels he was nearly blinded, watching as waves of lifestream illuminated every inch of the gigantic crater depths. He was standing on a small precipice, looking down into an endless void of lifestream and darkness merging together. Another ledge was just to his right and he turned, jumping down onto it with practiced skill. He made his way around the edge of the crater, only stumbling once, moving quickly with precision.

Finally he reached what he assumed was the center, where the darkness was gone, replaced by lifestream threads winding around through the air, crashing into one another, seemingly frantic to reach their destination, wherever it may be. He looked at the ground, or lack thereof—the final ledge seemed to lead into nowhere, without any ground in sight. Taking a deep breath, he stretched one leg out and tapped the air with his foot. To his surprise he touched something solid, and he knelt down, attempting to peer through the strands of green light. Nothing seemed to be there, but he could stand on it, he was fairly sure. He closed his eyes and gathered his courage, stepping away from his safe ledge into the open area.

His boots met with firm footing and he continued walking a few feet towards the center of the gathered threads of lifestream, opening his eyes slowly to avoid getting blinded once again. A short distance away was a brilliant white light emanating from somewhere and he instinctively moved towards it, hand outstretched to pick up the source. Once there, he found that the light was merely there, not originating from any apparent cause.

"Is anyone here?" he called out, listening to his voice fade immediately, not echoing like it would in a cavern or empty room. He shook his head, trying again. "Hello?" His greeting disappeared nearly as soon as it left his lips, beginning to shake his resolve. This place was unlike any he'd been in before—even though had had been here before, but then it had been filled with evilness, hate, emotions Sephiroth had tried to instill in him, though he'd ultimately failed. Now, he felt happiness and joy surrounding him, calmness washing over his frayed nerves.

"Cloud?"

He spun around to where he thought he'd heard a voice, but no one was there. Frowning, he knelt down on the invisible surface, touching it with his fingertips. It felt rough like stone, though nothing was really there.

Closing his eyes, he conjured the image of the church in his mind, dutifully recreating every board, every corner, every flower he could think of, knowing it like the back of his hand by then; he'd been there so many times both in reality and in dreams. As he mentally drew his surroundings he felt something brush against his arm and he opened his eyes, seeing a lilting flower's petals grazing his skin. He smiled and ran a finger along the edge of one of the petals.

"You've pretty much got this place memorized, don't you?"

He snapped his head up, startled. No one was around him. He was still alone. "Is that you?"

"Of course it is, silly! Who else would remember to tend the flowers every day?"

He stood up and surveyed the area, realizing that he was in the church. Beneath his feet were the cool stones, guiding him towards the warped, cracked wood that bordered the flowerbeds. Even the stained glass windows were identical to the ones from his memory—which, he supposed, that was the point, since he seemed to have created this space from his mind.

"Are you really here, or just in my head again?" he asked quietly, dreading the answer.

"Do you think this is only a dream?"

Her voice was as pure and rich as he had imagined since she had been cruelly taken away from him. He could sense her presence nearby, drifting just out of reach.

"I don't know what to think anymore. You know I hate playing games."

"Oh, you love playing games, don't lie. I can't forget how many hours we spent snowboarding at Golden Saucer. Not that I want to forget."

Golden Saucer. Memories of the first night they spent together there drifted into his mind. The sound of the multi-colored fireworks filling the night sky, the cool air rushing through the windows of the cable car they rode across the park, the sweet perfume she wore that permeated the air between them as she watched the fireworks through the window, turned away yet feeling like she was always looking at him, always thinking of him.

"That was such a beautiful night," her voice echoed around him, filling his chest with happiness and comfort. He looked up and noticed silent fireworks booming through the air above him, re-enacting their evening spent alone.

"Yeah, it was," he agreed, turning in a small half-circle to look around. The church was still surrounding him, but it was beginning to fade away. He could see threads from the lifestream slipping through cracks in the walls, reaching towards him. "Have you been here this whole time?"

"Sort of. I've been everywhere and yet nowhere," she replied. Something ruffled his hair and he started, looking up. The fireworks were gone now, replaced by a starry sky. "Haven't you felt me with you?"

"Yes, but I always thought I was dreaming," he said, suddenly feeling sad.

"Over here."

He turned his head to his left and saw a shimmering pocket of lifestream near the windows of the church. Warmness washed over him and he realized it was the materia in the sword on his back reacting to whatever was moving closer to him. A moment later he felt a tap on his shoulder and he quickly reached up, taking hold of someone's hand. Tears filled his eyes as he slowly turned.

It was supposed to be impossible, yet there she was.

Aerith moved her hand so that their fingers were entwined, reaching out to take his other hand in his. She looked nearly the same as he remembered, if somehow even a little older. Her chestnut-colored hair covered her shoulder in an intricate braid, with the familiar pink bow peeking out from behind her head. Her clothing hadn't changed, her rose-hued dress drifting towards the floor, ending just above a pair of well-worn boots. Her gorgeous green eyes were shining with happiness and the slightest hint of amusement, the same expression he had always dreamed.

He took a deep breath, squeezing her hands tightly, refusing to ever let her go again. "Aerith?" he whispered, mentally photographing every piece of her to store in case this wasn't really happening.

Her face shifted and her lips lifted into a sideways smile, as though she had a secret that she could barely contain. She leaned forward and rested her chin on his shoulder, letting go of his hands so that she could wrap her arms around him, and whispered into his ear, her breath more real and warm on his skin than he could have ever imagined.

"It's not a dream."