Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of the characters therein and I make no profit from this fic.

Cloud Strife stood at the roof's edge, half-skirt flapping in the powerful wind, hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stared blithely down into the empty air This was where he had last seen Sephiroth, the two of them fighting, grappling for dominance, battling for the fate of the planet. It had been three years since then, three years since the last time Cloud had murdered his General. Three years since the last time Sephiroth had lied to him.

And Sephiroth had lied. I'll never be a memory. Cloud could still feel the weight of those words as they rolled over him, could still revel in the threat and the silent promise of them. I'll never be a memory.

But Sephiroth had lied. It had been three years since that day, and he hadn't come back. No, he had faded into the Lifestream just as surely as he had faded into the dust of Cloud's still broken memory.

Cloud grimaced, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. He had followed Sephiroth that day, had slammed into the Lifestream even as his body had shattered in the explosion, leaving nothing behind but palm-sized pieces. If that. But…

Aerith and Zack. They hadn't let him die. They'd given him a second chance at life.

No. Cloud frowned, his knuckles white and tense as he stood wavering on the brink of the building atop which he'd killed the one person he'd loved and respected above all others. The one person he still, after everything, loved and respected above all others. No, they hadn't given him a second chance at life.

They'd stolen his one chance at death.

He'd learned not to hate them for it. He'd even learned to take some joy in life, to let go of most of his grief and guilt over their deaths and take pleasure in his new experiences. And he'd been grateful to Zack and Aerith for the chance they'd given him, for a time. But then, he'd still been waiting for Sephiroth to return. Waiting, and hoping that maybe this time, this time Jenova's child would have been banished and his General given a second chance at the life that had been ripped from him.

But Sephiroth wasn't coming back.

Cloud was truly, inexorably alone.

Closing his eyes and tipping his head back to allow the sun to wash over his face, Cloud unclenched his fists and flung his arms open wide. And then he let go, sighing softly in anticipated release as the wind buffeted his slender body.

And as he fell, making for himself the chance Zack and Aerith had taken from him, Cloud finally learned what it felt like to truly fly.

The Lifestream stretched out beneath Cloud's feet…at least, he thought it was the Lifestream. The vibrant green that usually glowed and flowed around him like silken invasion was now an inky mottled black, a stinking, rotting cesspool of sin and destruction. It cut into his skin as it washed over him. Cloud stared out at the vast abyss of what should have been freedom, what should have finally been peace. But there was nothing but darkness. Tiny, thorned tears forced their way from his eyes, blood tingeing their efforts. Where was the comforting, embracing light? The soft, gentle pull of familiar hands? His world shifted around him, and Cloud felt himself being poured into a hole of black despair. Sorrow and fear threatened to consume him, and Cloud beat his fists along the cavernous walls of his self-made prison. Anger and bitter hate resounded from the impact of his desperate hands and Cloud skittered away from the walls, cowering. What had he done? This was not what he wanted! He wanted to rest! To finally be back with Sephiroth! To reclaim the life he'd wanted for himself in death. But this wasn't it! This was a place of darkness and untold terror created by his own impatient misery and there was no escape, of that Cloud was certain.

More sharp tears leaked from his eyes as he fell to his knees. It couldn't end like this! He wanted peace! He wanted to rest! How could it really end this way! It wasn't fair. He'd been through enough. Hadn't he? Didn't he deserve to rest?

An eerie blue-grey shadow flickered to life before him, slowly taking shape. It was blessedly, terrifyingly familiar. Cloud felt sick, but he was unable to tear his eyes away. The remains of a man who once had been Zack, his dearest friend, wavered in front of him. Blood still seeped from the numerous wounds that littered the now ashen, time-ravished skin. The empty, death-glazed eyes were just a ghost over the black, gaping sockets, and the skin around Zack's mouth was wraith-thin, stretching over a ghoulish grin. "You just couldn't wait, could ya, Spike?" Zack's voice was harsh and taunting and seemed to float, not quite matching with the movements of the terrible lips. "Why couldn't ya just live? Now you've gone and damned yourself."

Damned. A cold shiver ran over Cloud's body. Damned? He couldn't be. Not after all he'd been through…

"Don't be foolish, Strife." An icy, bell-chimed voice. "I went through my fair share of pain and betrayal. Do you think I wasn't damned after the sins I committed?" Silver, ethereal death that flowed like poison, tainting cracked, crumbling porcelain. Green eyes swallowed by black the reflected like a mirror, casting all of Cloud's sins back on him like a branding iron. "Now we'll see what you're truly made of…" A ghostly, rotting arm of moonlight descended on Cloud's shoulder, a calculating look brimming in the hollow, soulless eyes…

Cloud screamed then, a loud, rough shriek of the truly afraid. The truth was laid bare at last, and Cloud had no choice but to stare it in the face. Zack and Aeris had offered him a chance to escape this fate, a chance to change it, but he had thrown it back in their faces, had scoffed at their gift, and thrown himself back to the merciless depths. Only this time it wasn't their illusion that caught him, it was reality. Before, the injustice of his death had allowed them to weave a fantasy, to catch him up in a magical pretend and send him back to life, but now, in the light of his true desires, and the inescapable hold of his suicide, there could be no magic, no help, no light. There was only the truth of his actions. Cloud found himself wanting in far too many ways.

Slowly, he forced himself to look upon the grisly, ghostly reminders of what had once been so precious. He held open his arms once again, raising his chin in defiant courage. "I have sinned." Cloud admitted. "Take me."

They rushed him together, entering him and filling his pain-wracked soul with all the grief and agony they had suffered on his account. Wave after wave of frustrated despair tore through Cloud's fragile senses, forcing him to wallow and drown in his own selfish bitterness and anger. He gagged on the vile taste of betrayal that overwhelmed him, and he knew.

This was what Zack felt. Zack had sacrificed everything to give him a chance at life after their escape from Shin-Ra mansion, and then he'd gone beyond that, offering up part of his own spirit to reform Cloud's shattered body and revive the beating of his blasted heart. He'd broken himself, given Cloud what he needed to return to life.

And Cloud had thrown that precious gift away, had negated Zack's sacrifice because he'd been too absorbed in loneliness and self-pity to realize just well he'd been loved and cherished. Cloud tried to speak, tried to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, but it was too late. He couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but lie entombed in a shifting morass of cloying black despair and choke on the guilt that rose to mingle with the acrid, liquid flavor of Zack's pain.

"I loved you, Cloud," he heard through the fog of what seemed like a great distance. Zack's voice sliced into him with the power of steel, and Cloud struggled to open his eyes, to meet his well-deserved fate with clear sight. But they were crusted shut with the dried shards of scarlet tears. He was blind, just as he'd been blind in life. Zack…

"He's not here," the voice was soft, familiar. But the hint of gentle laughter it had always carried was muffled, mutated by a cruel sadness. Cloud whimpered, shaking his and clenching his fists, his knuckles white and strained. Zack was there; he could feel him, could sense his anguish, could feel his sorrow and disappointment at Cloud's betrayal. Zack was there.

"No," Aerith whispered, her once soft hands raking over his flesh with demonic precision, laying his skin open. Cloud could feel the sick blackness seeping into his body, mixing and mingling with his blood, flooding his mind and overpowering his senses. All he could feel was the roiling hell, the viscous evil that had been his mind, his desires and dreams. He had done this to them. He had done this to himself. No! Zack…

"You killed him, Cloud." Her voice was low, sad, and her dagger-like nails paused over his neck, her fingers flexing and clutching, driving those nails into his throat with all the power of her rage behind them. "I loved him, and you killed him. That shot was meant for you, Cloud."

Aerith…

"It was meant for you, but you let him take it. You let him take your death."

Cloud tried to scream, to jerk away from her touch, but he couldn't move. The vile liquid held him prisoner. He didn't know how long he lay there, encapsulated in his own darkness, in the hell his mind had created. Eternity was a fickle concept, and time meant nothing in this place. Her hatred suffused him, and he knew… Even as he tried to pull away from her, he knew he deserved it. All of it.

"Yes, Cloud, all of it." This voice was smooth, tinged with a green light that flooded Cloud's mind with a fury of seething rage and resentment. "You deserve everything we have to give you."

Yes… Cloud nodded absently, still blind to the shifting, broken forms whirling in the black. He hardly noticed when Aerith's fingers released their grip and she faded away in a blur of dim light, replaced by his newest tormentor, his greatest sin. Sephiroth.

"Don't say my name, Strife." Sephiroth's voice was tinged with sadness, the rage tempered by smooth disappointment. "Never say my name." A long pause. Then, "I loved you once, too. Did you know that?"

A cry leaked out into the black and the despair closed in, a dearer companion than Cloud had ever known. He felt hands on his back. Strong hands, cruel hands. And the words that fell from Sephiroth's lips were perhaps the cruelest torture of all.

"Yes, I loved you. But you killed me, Cloud. You betrayed me. It's your fault I'm trapped here, your fault I couldn't return. You don't deserve me, Strife. You don't deserve anyone."

Your fault. Your fault. The words echoed in the broken recesses of Cloud's mind, tormenting him through the timeless ages of his eternity in this hell. His damnation. It was his fault. All of it was his fault.