A/N: Second fanfiction. Keeping it up for nostalgic purposes, because (psst!) it's really not that good.
Previous A/N:
The truck of inspiration strikes again! (And in a surprisingly short amount of time, might I add.) I can't believe all the feedback I got within the first two days of publishing my first story. You guys really spurred me on... plus I've been sitting on a lot of ideas for fanfics for awhile now, so I'm tentatively going to try to post them in the near future.
Well, as for a little bit of info on this one, this fanfic is slightly more troubled than my previous one- 'course, nothing compared to some of the angst you can find on this site. This could've been inspired by me watching a bunch of tearjerking movies earlier today. (Bambi, anyone?)
This is also set pre- Cloud's six month departure, which is before AC. I think I have a thing with writing my fics at this point in time :D
Anyways, enough of my blathering. Onwards with the story!
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Final Fantasy VII or it's characters. Darn.
Forgiven
It was raining again.
Rain made him think of Aerith, and thinking of Aerith created a dull sort of ache, starting somewhere underneath his rib cage. He could feel her in every droplet, a neverending reminder of the price that had to be paid in order to help stop Meteor and Sephiroth. Aerith… a heroine. She had known that she had to die for the sake of the planet, and she had died willing to activate Holy, to save the world. And here he was, falling victim to his own demons, unable to even face his own emotions, when Aerith had been able to sacrifice herself, her everything to make sure that her friends and the people of her planet survived.
Rain.
Was it supposed to cause this upsurge of thinking?
He leaned against the wall next to the door leading into 7th Heaven, letting the rain patter down onto his skin, feeling the cold droplets, allowing them to fall, keeping him constantly aware of the chilliness that he felt inside.
"Cloud?" It was Tifa.
"Mmm?" He replied, somewhat unwillingly. For once, he didn't want Tifa to come and comfort him and make everything better, as she had a tendency to do whenever he felt upset. For now, he wanted to remain out here, feeling the deep sorrow that he was feeling. It was the least he could do in payment to Aerith.
"You've been out here a long time." It was a statement, not a question, but it was gentle and kind and laced with worry.
Stop, Tifa, he thought tiredly. I don't want you worrying about me too. You shouldn't be burdened by me.
"Yeah, I guess," he responded in a monotone, hoping she'd take the hint and leave.
But, in true Tifa style, she saw right through him and placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head ever so slightly.
"Cloud. Come on. You're going to freeze. At least put on a jacket or something."
"Fine." He wasn't in the mood to argue. He wasn't even sure he had enough melancholy left in him after spending a just a mere minute with Tifa to even put up a decent argument as to why he should stay out here for as long as he wished. She had that uncanny ability to make him feel strangely warm inside, kind of like he was sitting by an incredibly toasty, crackling fire in the middle of winter, no matter what the circumstances.
He turned to head up the steps into the bar, but stopped when Tifa reached out suddenly and grabbed his wrist.
"You know she forgave you, Cloud." The words were tender and spoken softly, but they cut right through to his heart.
How did she always know?
That doesn't mean I forgave myself, he thought silently.
"Cloud…" Tifa stepped forward and gripped his shoulders with both hands, giving him a little shake. "You need to stop worrying about what you've done right or wrong, whether or not you could have saved her, whether or not you're forgiven. You've done the world so much good- more than anyone I can think of. Aerith knew what she was doing, she realized she had to die. How else could Holy have been triggered? None of us knew the secret. You don't need to be forgiven at all- you've done nothing wrong."
That can't be right. There must have been a way to save her. I don't know how, but I could have done it. I just needed time to think of a solution. Cloud turned away and slammed a fist again the brick wall.
"Tifa…" that was about all he could manage to get out before he had to cut himself off. There was a funny feeling in his throat, a sort of tickle, and his eyes stung and nose prickled. He hadn't felt this sensation since the day… well, since the last time he had felt a tremendous sadness, a terrible weight and a responsibility to make up for the death of the beautiful lifeless angel he had once felt so strongly for. The last time he had felt overwhelming emotions before he had closed off his heart to everything and everybody- except for (unbeknownst to him) the amazing brunette standing in front of him.
"Oh, Cloud. You never will let anyone in, will you? We all know how you feel, but can't you see that there was nothing you could do?"
"Maybe I see things differently because I feel differently about her than everybody else," Cloud thought vehemently, only to realize too late that he had spoken the words out loud.
There was a long pause.
"You know… you once promised me you'd always protect me from any harm." Tifa's voice was so soft now it was almost inaudible over the constant drumming of the rain. Her hands had at some point slipped off his shoulders and it left Cloud feeling cold and alone, without her warm hands connecting him to her, creating a constant flow of the kindness and companionship that embodied Tifa Lockhart. "Maybe it's time I did something for you."
Cloud looked up from his boots, where his gaze had been concentrated a moment before. He was almost afraid to look Tifa in the eyes, for fear of what he might see there. For fear of seeing something that might convince him to forgive himself, convince him that everything was actually going to be okay, convince him that it hadn't been his fault at all. And he didn't want that. Those thoughts had been something for him to live on, something that drove him to do the things he did, in hopes of somehow atoning that way. He lived on the hopes of doing something that would eventually repay Aerith for his mistake- allowing her to die. And the idea of that atonement kept him going.
"What?" he managed to mumble out.
But Tifa didn't reply. Instead, she reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.
"You're forgiven, Cloud. Everyone has forgiven you. Please believe me, and… don't do this to yourself. I… I wouldn't be able to bear it if you kept this up." Tifa was talking into his neck now, her last words almost muffled completely, as if she was unsure of whether or not she actually wanted him to hear them.
And suddenly, the warm, crackling fire that she had started in his heart was nothing less than a raging inferno. It burnt up any grieves and negative emotions swirling around inside him, and though he cast about desperately to grab them and keep a hold on them, somehow being in such close proximity to her and registering the words she had just said made him forget just why exactly he had wanted to be so sad. The negative side of him still insisted that though this was a temporary reprieve from his usual emotionless self, it wouldn't last. But even that was eaten up by the roaring blaze inside him, and he gave in to Tifa, because though his brain disagreed, his heart knew her words held the truth he had tried to deny for so long, because he didn't know any other life besides the one where he was continually trying to earn Aerith's forgiveness.
Why hadn't she done this before?
But deep inside of him, he knew the answer- she had been scared of rejection, just as scared as he had been of actually letting go of his past and Aerith, and embracing the present.
But before his mind could trail away any more, Tifa had tilted her head up, smiling and pulling him closer, and Cloud felt the sudden rush of all of his memories with her bubbling up inside him.
Traveling inside his own head with her, uncovering the truths that he had been concealing for so many years…
Sleeping underneath the Highwind, holding her in his arms, the closest they had been up until this moment…
Finding her crumpled form in the Mt. Nibelheim Reactor…
Seeing her again after leaving for SOLDIER… giving her the flower he had bought from Aerith...
Sitting at the well, promising her he'd always be there for her, protecting her from any and all dangers…
All the memories melded together to create a single, commanding desire.
He really, really, wanted to kiss Tifa.
And for once, he gave into the desires of his heart, inside of blocking it out and listening only to the same broken record telling him that it was his fault, that he'd never be forgiven, that it was his fault…
And he kissed her.
He kissed her neck, her cheeks, her forehead, her lips, any part of her and every part of her, and it was as if a dam had broken inside of him and all of the love he had suppressed since his childhood poured out, taking Tifa (and himself) by surprise.
And then she had regained her composure and was kissing him too, and was it still raining? Had it ever been raining? Wasn't rain supposed to be cold? Never mind. All he could feel inside was a deep, burning, overpowering sensation of warmth that spread from that funny place in the center of his chest, all the way through the tips of his (slightly soggy) spikes.
But then he felt something wet plop onto his face, felt it roll down in big droplets, and at first he thought it was rain, only he realized this rain was coming from his eyes. Tears? Weren't tears supposed to come at times of great misery? Maybe it was all of the grief and overwhelming sense of loss he had felt in the past years pouring out in tears in the only time Cloud ever deigned to show weakness- in Tifa Lockhart's presence. Then again, they didn't quite matter to Cloud since all he could feel was a massive bubble of bliss blossoming within him, expanding and encompassing every part of him.
She broke away for a moment, and there was sunshine in her smile and laughter in her eyes, and words didn't need to convey the things that her thumping heart, beating steadily next to his, said. As she broke contact reality came rushing back to Cloud, hitting him hard, but not so much in a bad way, because truly, few things could be considered bad when he had Tifa in his arms. He could feel the sparkling rain again, and he could feel Aerith in every drop, just like before. But this time he was looking at each droplet landing on his skin differently- not as a reminder that he owed Aerith so much, but maybe as Aerith trying to tell him, "It's okay, Cloud. You're forgiven."
Forgiven.
Forgiven.
Forgiven.
A/N: Hmm... as I reflect, this could come off quite cheesy. Apologies if it does, but hey, cheese & fluff- what's greater than that?
Your feedback is appreciated. Hope you enjoyed it!