Defeat of the Angel

Existence seemed to move without him as though it were a haze, the blur of his eyes playing tricks on him. His heart pounded against his ribcage, threatening to knock him to his knees. His lungs were puddling up blood, it seemed; he could taste it on his tongue. There was nothing so unsettling as the harping wonder in the back of his mind: was the angel finally, really defeated?

Cloud dragged his sword behind, breathing heavily, limping through the crowds of Radiant Garden. Nothing seemed real to him at this point, but perhaps it was the overwhelming exhaustion taking over. His thoughts were muggy and lost as he made his way to her. He needed to go back to her, she needed to know they were safe. Finally safe.

Everyone around him was so oblivious. He passed by like a shadow on the wall; unnoticed and in the dark. Maybe they were just ignoring him? Or maybe he was a shadow…

"Cloud?" she called out to him, a zombie coming closer in her peripheral vision. He didn't even look up to the sound of his name. Aerith quickly made her way to his side, taking the sword from his weak hands and, to the best of her ability, laid it to the side to lean against the wall. "What's happened to you? Sit down, sit down!" She forced him into the nearest chair, poking and prodding at him here and there checking for wounds and other such ailments.

"I did it," he muttered, eyes about to burn holes into the floor.

"You what?" She kneeled down besides him, green eyes gazing up to his blue eyes as though she were trying to pull the answer from out of them.

He went to speak but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "He's gone, Aerith. I did it."

At first in disbelief, a smile crept on her face. "Well, that's good!" She was so inappropriately optimistic, standing upright and heading towards the sink to grab refreshments for her tired soldier.

Cloud hadn't moved. Not even a little bit. He couldn't help but feel that something was completely and totally wrong. It seemed too cliche for this to be a dream, but something was certainly off. There was a pang of panic that swept over him, demanding action from him immediately. He jumped up, looking here, there and everywhere for something to be out of place, something to be evidently evil and corrupted. There must be something.

When she came back into the room, she could see him shaking. "Cloud? Cloud! You're shaking!"

"This is wrong! This is wrong!" he shouted back at her.

She dropped the glasses of water onto the table and ran over to him. "Cloud, calm down! Just calm down, sit back down. You're fine!"

But he was in a panic. Something was going to happen if he didn't act. Something absolutely horrible and wrong. There was no other way Cloud could describe it. "This is wrong!"

The shaking was even more violent now. Aerith wasn't quite sure what to do, she knew there wasn't anything she could say to make him feel better. She knew he was terrified and confused. She knew he'd been through hell and back to get here, and now he didn't know how to cope with the relief. He couldn't let it go. He couldn't allow himself to live just to be alive anymore.

She shh'd him and cooed to him like a dove. She rubbed his back and sang him one of her ancient lullabies. She lit calming incense and began rummaging through the cabinets to conjure up a sedative potion. And all the while, Cloud continued to scream into the dark corners of the room. "This is wrong! This is wrong!" He just didn't know how to let down his guard anymore. That angel was the shadows. That angel was a part of him—the darkest part of him—and Cloud could still feel darkness inside.