Chapter Two - Adrift
The air was humid outside, the sun dipping lower in the sky as afternoon progressing into evening. A deep orange tinge bled through the spaces between the opaque whiteness of the clouds. Tifa's words affected me more than I would have liked, and Jenova was suddenly the only thing on my mind. It was nothing but alien cellular tissue bonded with my own healthy cells – living bits of another sentient being supplementing my own life, thriving inside me. I tried not to think about it too often.
And if this voice was linked to Jenova, as Tifa had suggested, then... I didn't want to imagine what that implied. Because in my mind, Jenova was dead.
But what if Tifa was right? Jenova could still be manipulating my cells, causing me to black out and do whatever it wished, whatever agenda she had planned. And if I could never control the cells, then how could anyone ever really trust me? More importantly, how could I truly have a close relationship with anyone? With Tifa?
There was one way to try and get rid of the cells... but I didn't like it. As much as Tifa's suggestion had infuriated me, ShinRa was, without a doubt, my best option. If anyone could reverse the shit that Hojo had done, they would be in ShinRa's science department. The new company headquarters was based in Edge, of course. Although ShinRa was no longer officially functioning, everyone was used to their constant presence and ultimately defaulted power to them once again. Rufus Shinra, wherever he was now, was still the ruler of this city.
But I wasn't that desperate for ShinRa's help just yet. In fact, I was beginning to feel very lethargic from sleeping all day. Walking would wake me up, help clear the fog from my brain, I hoped. The ruins of Midgar were my destination. Sector Five in particular. As I walked forward, the pavement beneath my feet felt soft and malleable, the sun too bright and distracting. A peculiar dizziness invaded my stability as I continued on through streams of busy people going about their daily routines, paying no attention to me as I passed. My skin felt hot and the city never seemed so damned crowded and gray. I had the sudden urge to return to my hometown. Nibelheim was so quiet, so peaceful. So dead, I reminded myself. A town of lies, of death, of the past. There was nothing there now, yet I couldn't stop thinking of it.
I had reached the outskirts of the city, where the cracking sidewalk branched out and halted at the edges of the twisted skeleton of old Midgar. The dizziness suddenly reached a peak in its intensity, forcing me to pause, staggering slightly while the disorientation took its toll. I stood alone in a small space in the desolate region between Edge and Midgar. The mess of the city was behind me somewhere down the street I'd somehow wandered down, and nothing but ruins lay in front of me – rusting masses of torn metal, piles of crumbled concrete, shattered, destroyed, all because I gave Sephiroth the Black Materia. The sharp outline of the ruins stretching further in the distance was nothing but a black silhouette against the fading white of the sky's horizon.
Cloud. Puppet.
The voice... The feeling of power. The loss of control. A sharp pain stretched through my left arm, spreading up and outward through my chest, clawing up my throat, into my head. Bright hot pain. Lurching, curling, writhing. As if it owned me. And the voice was laughing again. I heard myself hit the ground before the nerve endings in my fingers registered dust and broken glass beneath me. My stomach hurt. Instantly, my vision darkened, the spikes of pain worsening.
Come back to me.
Gritting my teeth, I resisted the rising internal movement of the Jenova cells. They were recognizing something that I wasn't. They could feel something. Something...
The usual accompaniment to that voice – images of blood and Aerith – did not come to me as expected, however. My headache was actually diminishing in light of a new unwelcome dream. A nightmare. It was Tifa this time.
I was following her through a dense forest, the thick smell of moss and wet leaves in the air. Tifa was screaming, running frantically, the long black ribbon of her hair jerking left and right with her frightened movements every time she gazed horrifically back at me. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her breathing uneven. Yet I pursued her as though it was my duty, though not certain why she was so scared of me.
She slowed gradually, her legs tiring, her lungs struggling for a full gasp of air, until at last she collapsed amidst the brown and red leaves coating the ground. The white tree trunks glowed with a gentle dreamy quality, blanketing everything in shades of milky silver. As I approached her, she inched backwards, desperately clawing at the ground with her hands, but the leaves crumbled to ash beneath her and she remained helpless. Kneeling down, my hand darted out to grasp her neck and I pulled her face close to mine, ignoring her protests.
"I've made you perfect," I heard myself say in a gentle whisper, and my lips creased into a smile.
Tifa's eyes widened in terror as my fingers closed tightly around her neck.
Immediately, my eyes snapped open and I awoke, grateful to find it nothing but a dream. The headache was gone, and the pain in my arm had dissipated entirely. But it was dark outside, the sky a starless black above and the remains of Midgar obscured in shadows around me. A faint alarm rolled through my nerves because I knew I must have been unconscious for hours, lying against the decaying brick wall of some long abandoned half-demolished building. With some effort, I stood up, dusting the dirt from my face and clothes, taking a few moments to reorient myself. The narrow path that I had collapsed near was no where in sight. Actually, I was directly near the church, yet how exactly I had managed to get there was a mystery. The faint light seeping from Edge was hardly enough to illuminate anything properly, yet the church was plainly visible. The cracked stone façade was ominously spliced with long dark shadows, and I gazed up at it with new curiosity because I had never seen something look so ... revolting. The whole building appeared to be emerging from the darkness like a desolate image out of a nightmare. Suddenly, I became aware of how alone I was, standing in the ruins like some lost ghost.
Unable to stop myself, I carefully pushed open the door of the church and looked in with apprehension. A lonely patch of moonlight had somehow found its way through the open roof and shone delicately on the flowers blooming on one side. It was a serene sight that normally brought me comfort, although bittersweet, yet at that moment as I stared at the tiny patch of persistent life, I felt nothing but disgust. The whole place felt unnatural and eerie.
And that's when I knew something was very wrong with me.
Wasting no more time, I left, walking quickly towards Edge, not looking back at the remnants of Midgar behind me. I passed through the lighted streets of Edge, past the rows of dilapidated residential apartments, past the late-night bars and clubs, the strings of illuminated advertisements, ShinRa's logo plastered in the corner of everything. I did not stop until I reached the bar.
Tifa had closed the bar, so I could only guess that the time was passed midnight. The soft yellow glow from the window upstairs meant she was still awake, though. Unlocking the front door, I entered quietly, still nauseous from the scent of those damn flowers. That alone was completely unsettling to me, because her flowers always meant so much to me – her sacrifice, her smile, her forgiveness. And now it made me sick.
Upstairs, the door to her bedroom was open, pale light spilling into the dim blue hallway. Tifa was sitting at her desk, reclined back with her hands on either side of her head as if trying to mute a severe headache.
"Tifa...?" I called through the doorway.
She turned towards me at once.
"Oh, Cloud. You're so quiet, I hardly heard you come home..." she said wearily.
"Yes... well..." I took a deep breath, "How are you?"
"I'm fine," she responded tersely, looking back towards the pile of receipts from the bar sitting on her desk.
"About last night..." I began slowly, trailing off intentionally in hopes that she would interject something.
Once more she peered up at me, though this time her eyes were full of sincerity. "I do want to be with you," she announced, then sighed before continuing, "But, I'm starting to wonder if we're even capable of having a real relationship together. It's scaring me that you're still ..." Her voice paused, breaking apart.
"Still what?" I pressed.
She stood and faced me entirely, her complexion pallid.
"Still lost. Lost in all that garbage ShinRa did to you."
For some reason, I got offended by her choice of words.
"Garbage?" I repeated with disdain, "Ok, it's not exactly a picnic for me all the time, but those cells have saved my life on numerous occasions, and you know it." My tone was much harsher than intended. Even I was taken aback by the ferocity of my own words, so it was little surprise when Tifa's eyes flared with anger and she crossed her arms.
"What? Are you... are you grateful, then?" she spat, "Grateful that they caused you to practically lose your mind all those years ago? Grateful that those cells nearly took away every shred of identity from you?!"
"I'm alive right now because of those cells," I told her, stressing each word, "In fact, I would've died, should've died, on the outskirts of Midgar with Zack if it weren't for Jenova! So, no, I don't think its garbage." My hostility was ... unnerving, unwelcome. I couldn't understand why a sudden rush of anger was pulling at me.
"Why are you defending it? Defending that thing?!" she shouted suddenly, placing her arms on her hips.
"I'm not defending anything!" I argued back.
"Cloud, what's going on?" her tone dropped, her voice flat. A dead serious stare met my gaze.
I was able to relax, her eyes grounding me. "Nothing. I'm sorry for yelling."
"Barret is coming by to drop the kids off tomorrow morning, and I do not want them to see you like this," she went on evenly, "And I don't want to see you like this, either. Please, Cloud, just tell me what's going on."
My thoughts went back to the dream I had of Tifa suddenly.
Tifa's voice continued, piercing, "After all this time together, after all we've been through, why can't you just talk to me?" Her tone softened as though holding back tears. "Why can't you just let me in?"
I did not respond.
"After what happened last night to you, I'm terrified! I'm being completely honest – I'm dead terrified, Cloud! Terrified that it could happen again to you. And I really don't know what to do! I don't think I can lose you again..."
Still I said nothing. There was nothing comforting I could possibly say to erase whatever harm I had caused. She stared at me, waiting for a response, but since none came, she huffed in aggravation and kept talking.
"And then you told me how you're hearing a-a voice again, while you practically attacked me last night! What other conclusion could I come to, other than Jenova interfering with your life again?" she asked exhaustedly.
My silence only exaggerated the space between us.
She spoke again, her eyes searching mine, "Well? Say something!"
"I..." It was difficult to verbalize the sinking feeling clearly, "I don't know, Tifa. I don't know what to tell you."
"That's not good enough for me. For us."
"I can't explain it."
"Try."
An image of my hands around her neck flashed under my eyes. The nightmare. So close. So real.
Reunion.
"No," I replied to her, ignoring the voice completely.
"Just no?" she asked, incredulous.
"It's nothing I can't handle." I tried to sound as confident as possible, to extinguish her fears.
"So that's it?" She sounded pissed. "You just want to run away, again?"
"I'm not running. I just need more time..."
"Then go," she said curtly, turning away, "Go vanish for hours or even days like you always do." She exhaled as though defeated, all the vigor deflated from her voice.
There were two distinct sides within me, equally vying for my attention. One half of me wanted to hold Tifa close, to tell her everything that had been going on, to beg her to help me. The other wanted only to keep her safe – push her away for her own good, so she would never know about my terrible visions, because I could deal with it alone. I didn't want to appear as weak and helpless as I felt. Not to her.
Standing silently in front of her, I could not decide which side to take. I tried to imagine all possible outcomes, all reasonable responses from her, and judge which would be most favorable. Yet my inability to say a single damn thing in my own defense was doing nothing for me. Eventually, Tifa just threw her hands up as if she could take no more.
"Just go..." she insisted with a tone of finality. "It's obvious there's something wrong, but you just don't want to let me in."
Reunion.
The word was clear and bright, but I completely ignored it again, brushing it away. The sudden frequency of this voice was only irritating me now because I wanted nothing to do with it. That Reunion shit was long over and I was not interested in anything remotely related to it.
"Just...go..." she repeated slowly, a hint of growing anger in her eyes as she glared at me.
I wanted to obey her wishes, I really did. But my body was paralyzed to the spot, a chill running along my neck and shoulders. I wanted to feel her lips again. An insatiable desire to hold her overwhelmed me.
"Please... Just leave," she breathed out, the anger subdued yet still apparent, "I want to be left alone."
A subtle shade of blue clouded my vision and I felt my feet move, taking a few steps closer to her without my consent. She was eyeing me cautiously, tilting her head to one side. Without warning, my body lunged forward and I grabbed her by the waist, pinning her back to the wall. Our lips met instantly and the tension evaporated in the wake of sudden intense passion.
Her arms were around me, hands combing through my hair as we kissed. The warmth of her skin brought immeasurable pleasure. I had expected her to push me away, to reemphasis her wish to be alone, yet the moment we were together, everything felt perfect, complete. Holding her up against the wall, I felt her legs curl around me with a rush of heat. I was becoming lost in a moment of rapture, nothing but her filling every one of my senses – her touch, her scent, her taste, the delicate moans I elicited from her, and of course her absolute beauty. The delicate curve of her neck, the feeling of her hips against mine – everything was purely amazing.
The cut on my lip reopened and the taste of blood trickled into my mouth as she kissed me harder. She paused suddenly, tasting it too, and opened her eyes. All I could see was that deep mahogany shade of her irises and the dark pupils darting back and forth as she looked from one of my eyes to the other, as if unsure if she were hurting me. My only response was to resume kissing her, with added fervor because I did not want to stop. At first she seemed to be resisting, then eventually indulged, ignoring the blood as I was. It was inconsequential. I was not about to let anything stop us.
It was all perfect. Much too perfect. Closing my eyes, the immediate darkness seemed only to amplify the sensations I felt with her – the rough rug of her hand through my hair, the desperate hungry kisses that I could not break free of even if I wanted to. Dimly aware of a vague scratching sound echoing inside my head, I tried to block out everything but her. I wanted her as I'd never wanted anything else.
Suddenly, her body stiffened beneath me and a short sharp cry escaped her lips. "Ah! S-Stop!"
The cry of her voice snapped me from the dim haziness of desire and I opened my eyes. My hands were holding both her wrists tightly against the wall, my fingers wrapped hard over the bruises. Immediately I released her, franticly, upset that I had managed to hurt her again without any explicit knowledge of my actions. I did not remember moving my hands over hers like that in the slightest.
"I'm so sorry," I apologized at once, my lust entirely gone. The moment had been killed.
My lack of control terrified me to no end. I would not hurt her again. I refused to hurt her again. Tifa was leaning back against the wall, one hand wiping away a trace of my blood from her bottom lip, a deeply troubled look in her eyes.
"No. I can't do this," I said rapidly, a new fear dawning over me, "I won't."
"Cloud? ...You're shaking."
"I'm leaving," I decided. There was no way I would stay near her if the possibility of me harming her again was that high. The voice and the dreams had never really been an active threat. Now that I had lost control while conscious... But I would not allow myself to hurt her anymore.
Without looking back at her, I stormed out in heightened alarm. The enemy was within me and I could not escape it. I just had to get away from Tifa before I did something horrible again. I did not pause until I was outside, several blocks down the street with the warm night air blanketed around me and the faint laughter resonating in my head. Now I was truly frightened. Adrenaline rushed fast through me, muscles tensed as though the threat was external. If only it were that simple.
The streets were hardly deserted even in the middle of the night, and I walked onward through the sparse groups of late-nighters, uncaring of the light drizzle and the dark clouds accumulating above, panicking every time I heard a faint whisper in my ear. A raw hopelessness grasped me harshly. Bitterness tore at my thoughts because I knew Tifa was right about everything. Seeking ShinRa's help suddenly felt like a very viable option. And truthfully, I would do anything for her, regardless of how much I disliked ShinRa. There was no way in hell I would let myself hurt Tifa again.
The new ShinRa building was halfway across the city, but I was determined to reach it and demand they undo everything they'd done. I hated ShinRa for so many reasons, but those didn't matter anymore. I simply didn't care in light of this new threat. I just wanted the Jenova cells out of me for good. And if there was any way it could actually be done, I would do it. If not for my sake alone, then for Tifa.