Square owns the whole shebang. I'm just feeding the pigeons.

This chapter introduces more characters we're all familiar with already, and first of numerous flashbacks to come, marked with –x-x-x-. Tread carefully around the angst. And the swearing. Mmm. Swearing.

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Chapter Three

Sleeping

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"Well fuck me! Look what the cat dragged in!"

Cloud lifted his eyes when the door opened and he heard the cheery but rude greeting. He was barely aware of any of it when two strong arms wrapped around him and gave him a tight squeeze. It made some of his scars ache a bit, but he paid them no heed. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten them, they didn't matter.

He was finally released after a pat to the shoulder. The spellcaster looked up to see a grinning, blond man who was maybe two or three inches taller than he was. His blond hair stood stubbornly up as well, but it was shorter than Cloud's, and more light brown than yellow. The man babbled and cursed as he guided the shorter man into the dimly lit, smoky apartment. The small TV dominated the messy living-room and the couch let out a cloud of dust when he sat upon it. Dirty clothes and old newspapers littered the floor, and a small plant struggled for life on the window sill, doing its best to change the smoke of the cigarettes into breathable air. Cloud was sure that his cousin was still talking, but he hadn't heard a word of it after the initial greeting. He only wondered absently how anyone could live in such a small and stuffy apartment.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when the slightly taller man dropped to sit down next to him, and pushed a beer can to his hands. The feeling of cold woke him, and Cloud turned to look at his cousin.

"Hi, Cid."

Cid gave him a weird look and opened his can. "You on drugs or something? I've been talking to you for ten minutes, but it seems to go in through one ear and straight out the other one. And now you say 'Hi, Cid', like I'd just opened the damn door. I always thought you were weird, man, but this is a bit too odd, even for you."

"Sorry. I've... had a rough few months..." Cloud looked at his cousin, who was dressed in a blue t-shirt and green cargo pants. Cid pulled a suffered pack of cigarettes out of one of the pockets and lit one. They hadn't seen each other in about five years, not after he'd left home to join the Peacemakers.

"Yeah? I heard that you were in the Wutai war, kicking some serious ShinRa ass. So what the hell brings you to Midgar? Not that I'm complaining, it's good to see ya, but it seems a bit odd... I bet the Prez would have a heart attack, to know that one of the guys who helped kick his ass is here, in the slums of his crown jewel."

"Cid... I don't want to think about it, just now... can I stay with you a while? I... I need to get away from everything."

"Sure." Cid shrugged and spread his arms. "My home's your home. Sorry 'bout the mess, don't get many guests. Only one guy comes over every now and then, so I don't bother to keep the place tip top."

"I don't mind..." Cloud muttered and took a careful sip of his beer. Cid slapped his shoulder, nearly making him spill the beer.

"Cool then. I won't offer you the bedroom, it's even filthier than this place. And gods only know how long it's been since I changed those sheets. But I think Ma gave me some linen when I left home, they should still be in the bag, somewhere in the closets... never used, you can have those. I usually go out to eat, or with my buddy, or eat at work. Tastes like shit, but it's free." Cid babbled on. If nothing else, his familiar voice and the somewhat tainted homeliness of the place made Cloud relax. A few more sips of beer and he could feel his muscles turn to jelly. By the time the can was empty and Cid had told him all about his crappy work which was nothing what he really wanted to do, the spellcaster was ready to drop.

"Damn, yawn like that and your jaw will tear off! I'll go and see if I can find those sheets for ya..." Cid got up a bit unsteadily and wandered to his bedroom. Cloud was sure he'd seen the last of him, thinking that the cousin would get lost into the pile of dirty clothes, or be caught under an avalanche of socks.

"... Must be more tired than I thought... if I'm really this drunk..." he muttered to himself and watched how his hands let go of the empty can. Surprisingly enough, Cid returned soon with the promised linen, kicked the can from his way and tossed them on Cloud.

"There ya go. Knock yourself out, kiddo!" He said with a wide smile which said that he'd had far more to drink than just the one. Cloud tried to frown at him but was cut off by a wide yawn.

"I'm only a year an' a half younger than you are, I'm not a kiddo..."

"Sure you aren't... kiddo. Sleep well. I'll leave pretty early in the mornin', I'll try not to wake ya."

"Thanks, Cid. I owe you."

"Naw, ya don't. Good to see you again."

"Good night."

Cid turned the TV and the dim light off, leaving him in the almost dark room. Streetlights illuminated it a bit, but their cold light mostly made the shadows and even the small plant look ominous. Watching them, sure that they were just waiting for a moment to attack him, Cloud stretched out the sheets and the blanket, got undressed and slipped in between them, falling to dreamless sleep as soon as his head hit the nicotine-drenched handrest of the couch.


Zack had contacted the others immediately after leaving Nibelheim. Deren's report confirmed what he already knew, when the man told him that none of the drivers had taken the spellcaster as a passenger. Sara and Josin had found a small bag with a few materia in it from the desert, and suspected that it was Cloud's. The spellcaster hadn't had anything with him when he'd been found in the desert, and they knew that he hadn't taken it with him when he'd left north, so it had probably been in the desert since the spellcaster and Sephiroth had gone missing.

Zack had told the others to get back to north, now that he he knew where the blond would be. Him going to Midgar had made the masters react strongly. Ranael had been the first to tell him how stupid this idea was, how idiotic it was for him to go to ShinRa's turf, knowing that they didn't care if the Peacemakers had diplomatic immunity during peaceful times. The master had made it clear that he was on his own if he decided to go, and Zack had said that he was very much aware of that, and of the fact that Cloud was in much bigger danger, considering that ShinRa probably knew who he was.


It was still dark when the quiet voices brought him out of his empty dreams, but there was a dim light somewhere, casting a soft glow on the messy room. Cloud opened his eyes enough to see that there was no one else in the room. Still, he could hear speaking, but it was too far and too quiet for him to make out any words. With a sigh, he burrowed himself deeper into the couch and let his mind drift again. He thought there was someone standing over him, but at that point he was already half asleep and didn't care anymore.

A few hours later he woke up again. This time the room was illuminated with the dusty light that was the only thing that came close to sunlight that the people of the Midgar slums could hope for. All other natural light stopped at the plate. Children grew in the slums to adults without seeing the sun except on TV. Midgar, the sparkling city of development.

Cloud yawned and stretched, rubbing his eyes hard before opening them again. He remembered the voices he'd heard and figured it was probably Cid, leaving for work. He'd have the whole place to himself until late in the afternoon. If he wanted to leave, he'd have to wait until Cid got back to get in.

"Good morning."

The voice startled him, and Cloud sat up immediately. His first thought was that Cid hadn't left after all, but it wasn't Cid's rough but soft and familiar voice. This voice was low and quiet, not rude but a bit hard. Wishing that he'd kept one of his weapons near, Cloud turned slowly to face this new person.

A tall, lanky man stood leaning against the kitchen's door-frame, looking at him. Long, black hair hung below the man's thin shoulders, and half hid the pale face and the red eyes which seemed to glow, so intense was their colour, so sharp in the white face. The man was dressed in all black, the clothes were a bit baggy and hid his thin frame. He blinked and pushed himself off the door-frame.

"Vincent. Cid's friend. I came by earlier, he asked me to stay here with you, or let you back in if you want to go out. Now that you're up, I'm off to bed. Only beer in the kitchen, you'll have to go out for food if you want some."

Cloud watched the man and nodded after a moment. Vincent blinked again and walked past him, straight to the bedroom, and closed the door. The blond sat still for a moment longer. He didn't really care for food, but didn't want beer either. Wandering the slums didn't sound too hot, but sitting here while Vincent slept seemed a bit awkward. He could watch TV, but he hadn't even seen a set in so many years he'd lost count. Cid didn't seem to have any books, except engine manuals, do-it-yourself -guides and some technical essays. He could always try to clean up, but he suspected that two days later the place would be the same it was now. A simple clean-up wouldn't be enough to get rid of the stench of cigarettes, anyway. Cloud dared a deeper breath, smelled himself and decided to take a shower.

The pipes clattered and howled and the water turned abruptly from hot to cold and back again, but it was still so much better than washing himself in the trenches, so Cloud didn't care. Cid's shampoo ran out halfway through his long hair, but at least there was soap and he came out not smelling like farmyard animals anymore. The truck driver had brought him to Midgar fast, but the trip in the back of the truck with pigs and caged hens had been all but pleasant. He had been happy that he'd lost his appetite during the boat trip.

Cloud barely recognized the pale, scarred skeleton that stared back at him from the mirror. There were dark hollows around his eyes and where his cheeks should be. His hair was tangled so badly it had almost gone to dreadlocks, which caused it to stand up even more stubbornly than before.

His body... he could remember having something of a tan from the previous, hot summer, but now his skin was white as chalk. He traced the reddish scars that traveled all over his torso, arms and legs, and wondered what had caused them. They looked like they were done with a knife, a sharp and thin one, except for the ones around his right elbow which had been injured in the war. That he could remember, even the pain when he had been pinned to the ground underneath a heavy beam. But the other scars were a total mystery to him. Having them but not knowing how he'd gotten them made him feel uncomfortable, and determined to keep them hidden so he wouldn't have to answer questions he couldn't answer.

He hadn't thought to look for a clean towel, or at least a semi-clean one, so he had to make do with the soggy one that had spent Cid knew how long rumpled on the floor. It smelled like mould and was cold and wet. Cloud decided that if he was going to live here for longer, he'd have to do something about the way Cid ran his little place. That, or he'd end up killing his cousin.

Just as he had managed to dry most of himself, there was a soft knock on the door. Cloud covered himself with the towel, more eager to hide his numerous scars than his privates as one hand instinctively went to where his knife should be. "Yes?"

"Towel. The one in there probably has its own ecosystem living in it." Vincent's voice came through muffled. Cloud opened the door a bit and reached for the cloth Vincent offered.

"Thanks. Didn't mean to wake you."

"It's ok. I don't usually go to bed earlier than this anyway." Vincent muttered and closed the door. Cloud frowned at the words but couldn't be bothered to wonder about the other man's sleeping habits. He dropped the wet towel which made a slurching sound as it hit the floor, and wrapped the warm, soft one around himself, feeling instantly better. It was as if warm hands had encircled him and were holding him close. The blond closed his eyes and almost leaned into the touch until he realized that the only thing that would catch him was the cold bathroom floor. With a sigh, he started to dry his hair.

When he'd left north, he'd had enough of presence in mind to take some clothes, a few books and other things with him from his old room. The clothes were a bit too small, both short and tight where he had developed more muscles, but they fit comfortably enough. He felt much better after the shower, even a bit hungry again. Still, he couldn't seem to be able to shake off the depression and bring himself to care about anything. He felt like he was still wandering in the cursed desert, trying to figure out what had happened, how he'd ended up here, and why was his heart aching so bad he just wanted to cry. The truth was he couldn't remember. His recent past seemed to be a blur. He knew who he was, and he obviously knew Cid. He knew he was one of the Peacemakers, he'd immediately known he'd need to reach them once that man with the chocobo had woken him from his thoughts. He remembered the war, and people he thought he knew. But only if he concentrated. And he could remember him. Dead. Cold. Unmoving. Gone. Cloud shook his head and forced down the sob that fought to come out of his throat. He wouldn't cry. Every night he'd either rest in complete blackness, or have painful nightmares which he couldn't remember anymore when he woke. It was a blessing and a curse, for he was sure that the dreams were his memories of the lost months. If he could remember them, he would know what had happened. Maybe he could find some peace.


There was no peace in the slums, that was for sure. People everywhere, selling something, hanging around, running somewhere, begging, preaching, haggling, shouting, coughing, staring... it was enough to drive you insane. Cloud started to wish he hadn't left the apartment at all. As awkward as it would have been to just sit there while Vincent slept, waiting for Cid to come, it was still a lot better than being here, breathing this thick air, being constantly pushed around and offered something... it was all just too much. So much sickness, poverty and hopelessness. And to know that it was all because of greed. The same greed which had started wars and killed people. Same greed which had destroyed his life. How easy it would be if he'd just let go of it all, forget everything he could still remember, and just find a corner here to sit at and talk to himself. Maybe someone would toss him a coin every now and then, or kick him. And one night, when no one would look or care, someone would stab him to death for his shoes. Wouldn't that be a fitting end to his miserable life?

Cloud shook his head and gave the books he wanted to the lady who ran the small used book shop. It was really just a desk on the street with a small sign saying Used Boks. He gave her the gils she asked and shoved the books to his small bag, careful not to crush the vegetables he'd bought earlier. He had already been wandering the slums for a few hours now, consciously staying away from the richer parts where the finer restaurants, inns and brothels were. The state he was in, he felt he couldn't stand that kind of amount of decadence and pretentiousness.

"Would you like a flower? They're only one gil." A cheery voice, so completely out of place asked, making Cloud look up from the filthy street. The girl in front of him smiled warmly, a real smile in the middle of all this pain and falseness. The blond stared at her and her pink, clean dress for a while without realizing that he was staring, until she tilted her head and poked a flower almost to his nose.

"They're real, grown here in Midgar. You look like you could use something to cheer you up."

Why not, he thought, maybe it'll cover some of the stench of the cigarettes. Stop Cid from smoking and make him clean up the place. Make Vincent smile, and wear bright colours. Make him happy and remember everything he wanted to know so badly. Maybe a little flower would do all that, and magically change Midgar into a happy, clean place where children didn't have to die because they didn't have anything to eat. All that for just one gil.

"Yeah, sure. Give me one." Cloud found himself muttering and fished out a coin. The girl thanked him and picked out a fresh flower from her basket. He put it carefully on top of the books and watched her walk away, humming quietly to herself. Everyone needed their delusions.


Vincent came to open the door fairly quickly, considering that he was sleeping behind closed doors. The gothic man headed back to bed without a word, only nodding when he opened the door. Cloud headed straight past the bedroom door and the living room to the kitchen, where he put the vegetables and the milk into the fridge. It was empty, save for five cans of beer and a tin of tuna, probably pre-war. The first war. He left the books on the kitchen table, after he cleared it of empty cans and fast food wrappings. He found a clean glass to put the flower in, and took it to the living room.

The apartment was very small, all the rooms were along the short hallway. From the front door, the bathroom/toilet was first on the right, after which the hallway opened to the living room. The bedroom door was on the left side, across the hall from where the living room started. The hall ended on the kitchen door. The whole apartment had only two windows, one in the living room and a small one in the kitchen. It looked like Cid only used the kitchen for the fridge, as there was a clear path to it from the door. The sink was full of unwashed dishes which seemed to have taken permanent residence there.

The living room had two small tables, one for the TV and the other, in the front of the couch, for everything else. The window sill looked ready to drop. Cloud sighed and watered the flower while he tried to tidy up the place a bit. He piled the magazines in one pile and the books and manuals to another, and took all the empty cans and bottles to the kitchen. He found a laundry basket in the bathroom and took the dirty clothes there, wondering if there was a laundry room somewhere in the building.

It didn't do much good, but he opened both windows to clear the air a bit. If nothing else, it was a psychological relief. He only now noticed that the TV screen was covered with dust, and someone had written 'wash me!' on it. So he did. He then placed the pink flower on top of the set and brought his books to the living room, took a few strawberries and an apple to eat and sat on the couch to read a bit.

He must have fallen asleep, although he didn't remember when, for he woke when Cid wondered loudly what the hell had happened to his place. Cloud opened an eye and closed the book that rested on his chest, and sat up. His cousin turned to look at him, surprised.

"You did this?"

Cloud shrugged. "I just tidied it up a bit."

Cid looked around and shrugged as well, smiling. "Cool."

Vincent had also woken up and stepped out of the bedroom. His eyes widened a bit when he saw the living room, but his face quickly went back to emotionless. "Cid. This place looks almost human."

"Yeah. Cool, huh?"

"Knowing you, it's almost scary..." Vincent muttered and headed for the bathroom. Cid flipped him the finger and winked at Cloud.

"Don't mind him, he's always cranky after waking up." The older blonde more threw himself on the couch than sat down, and pulled out a cigarette. "So. Did ya have a nice day?"

Cloud shrugged and set the book on the table. "Guess so."

"See the slums?"

"Yeah."

"Want a beer?"

"No."

"I'll have one anyway..." Cid got up and went to the kitchen. He stopped on the door to scream some profanities. "Damn it, kiddo, you've been on a roll! I can almost see the fucking floor!"

The blond was laughing when he returned with a can of beer. "You're gonna make a good wife one day!"

"Shut up..." Cloud muttered and frowned, feeling a blush creep on his face. Cid noticed it and laughed some more.

"I know, we'll find you a girlfriend! Some nice girl, maybe an older one who'll boss you around. Don't you army guys dig that kind of thing?"

"I wasn't in the army, strictly speaking."

"We're not. But if that's not your cup of tea, I'm sure we can find some other type of girl. Lots of fish in the sea, y'know. You look like you could use a good shag."

"A good what?" Cloud asked, starting to feel uncomfortable. On second thought he didn't really want to know. "Never mind. I don't want a girlfriend."

Cid just shrugged and took a long sip from his beer. "Suit yourself. Heh, maybe you'd like a guy better, then." Cid nudged him and winked, joking. Cloud could feel his blush take over half his face, making his cousin whistle.

"Ooh, hit a soft spot, did I? You fancy them pretty boys? Can't blame ya, unless you didn't figure it out yet, Vinnie and me share more than just our love for the malted liquor."

Vincent came to the living room just in time to hear Cid start singing.

"Oh, what is the malted liquor,

What gets you drunker quicker,

What comes in bottles and in cans?

BEER!

Can't get enough of it,

How we really love it,

Makes me think I'm a MAN!

BEER!"

The blond hoisted his can up to the air on both 'beer'-shouts. The goth closed his eyes and shook his head, placing one hand on top of Cid's head as he walked past, to sit on the rickety chair underneath the window. Cid laughed and took a long sip while Cloud tried to fight down his blush.

"But I'm right, right? Auntie Ame ain't getting to play granny, is she?"

Cloud opened his mouth to say something but couldn't get a word out.

/"You know, I bet we'd make such pretty children..."/

The words flashed through his mind and the blond moaned quietly, lifting a hand to cover his eyes. Cid took it as an answer and patted him on the shoulder.

"Nothing wrong with that! Right, Vin?" He didn't wait for an answer, and Vincent wasn't even about to give him one. "If you like the guys, I mean. We can set you up with someone nice, get some action into your life."

Cloud looked up at him, over his hand, and raised an eyebrow. He wasn't completely following anymore what Cid was going on about. The sentence was ringing in his head, he knew he'd said it, but when? And why?

"What?"

"We'll set you up with a nice guy if you want to. Or a nasty one, if that's what you like. Just tell old Cid what you dig, and I'll get right on it!"

"... How many exactly have you had?" Vincent asked, sounding a bit pissed. Cid ignored his tone with a wave of his hand.

"Just a few before you came into my life, baby!" Vincent's icy glare sobered the blond up a bit, and he shrugged, smiling innocently. "Had a few at work. We finished the project and decided to celebrate. Hey, do you guys fancy going to a bar tonight? We could just drink and chat, we haven't really talked in more than five years, right, Cloud? And we could hunt for a guy for you." He winked again and nudged Cloud who was starting to feel sick. Vincent seemed to notice it, but Cid was too drunk to see neither the goth's annoyance nor his cousin's squirming.

"... But I don't want anyone..." Cloud muttered and repeated the words louder when Cid claimed he hadn't heard them.

"Aww come on, it'll cheer you up!"

"No..."

"Do you have someone already?"

"Yes... I mean no."

"Oh I see!" Cid said and calmed down a bit, wrapping a sympathetic arm around his younger cousin's shoulders. "Still getting over the ex?"

Cloud could feel the apple and strawberries make their way back to his mouth, and sprung up from the couch, running for the bathroom. As the door slammed shut and Cid turned his surprised face to Vincent, the goth stood up and walked past him.

"Maybe you should just go to bed, Highwind. Alone." Before Cid could say anything, Vincent had left the apartment. The blond turned to stare at the dark television screen and eventually frowned, listening to his cousin being sick in the bathroom.

"What the fuck just happened?"


Cloud stayed in the bathroom until Cid left the apartment as well. His cousin had stood outside the door for a quarter of an hour, pleading with him, saying that he was just kidding, asking him to come to the bar. Cloud had declined, saying that he was still sick and tired from the trip. Eventually Cid had left, promising to come home quietly. Only when he was sure that the older man was gone, Cloud came out and went to lie down on the couch. He was feeling sick and his head was spinning, because of both being sick and the strange words still dancing around in his head. They almost triggered a memory he could almost place. But only almost. He wrapped the blanket tightly around himself and turned the TV on with the remote, not really watching it but feeling safer and more relaxed when there was noise and some light in the room. It was already dark outside.

He rose up about an hour later, to get a glass of milk, and dozed on and off until Cid came back and turned the TV off before going to the bedroom. Cloud pretended he was sleeping, not feeling up to a conversation with the obviously drunk man. Soon he could hear Cid snoring in the other room, and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift away again, into blackness.


Cloud had half expected to see Vincent again when he woke, but the apartment was empty. There was a small note on the table, though, with a key weighing it down. Curious, he picked the note up.

'Sorry about last night. Had this done for ya, now you can come and go as you wish. Cid.'

He picked up the key and turned it around in his hands, smiling slightly. "Thanks..." he whispered to the empty room, and slipped the note between the pages of one of his new books. He was feeling a lot better now, he could barely remember what they'd said last night that had made him feel so bad. He didn't even want to remember. He was starting to feel really hungry now, and went to the kitchen to have some milk and an apple. Cid had eaten most of the food he'd gotten yesterday, and drank half of the milk. Didn't matter, he felt like going out to buy something anyway. Maybe he'd even cook. The dishes would have to be done first, then.

Happy with his new freedom, Cloud got dressed, pocketed his new key and left his new home. For a while, he forgot that he couldn't remember.


He had thought that the slums were big enough that there was small chance of him recognizing anyone he'd come across earlier, not counting the shopkeepers, of course. But there she was again. The short girl, dressed in pink, selling her flowers. Cloud slowed his steps and looked around, hiding behind a corner where he could see her but she couldn't see him.

Even though it was hot, smelly and dusty in the slums, she seemed to pay no attention to it. The dirt almost avoided her. The pink skirt was mostly clean and only a little wrinkled, and her long, brown hair was clean and cascaded neatly down her back from a ponytail. Two stubborn bangs hung in front of her face and her bright green eyes. Cloud frowned and looked at her face more carefully. The green wasn't the same, but it was so much like his eyes... and there was something in the smile. Cloud shook his head quickly, forcing the memories away before he'd break down and cry. But he still watched her. Her appearance mesmerized him so completely that he didn't even notice the pickpocket until the man was running off with his wallet.

"Hey! Stop, thief!" Cloud shouted, annoyed that he hadn't noticed anything. Most people paid his words or the running man no mind, but the flower girl looked quickly up, and seeing the thief running her way, stuck out her foot just before the man ran past her, so that he didn't have time to change his direction or jump over her leg. He tripped and ploughed the dirt with his nose.

Cloud caught up with him the next second. He grabbed the man by the neck of his jacket, pulled him up a bit and snatched his wallet before letting the man fall back to the ground. He glared at the people who were staring, but they soon found something more interesting, seeing that the thief was caught.

He checked that all his money was still there before looking up to see that the girl had crouched down to the groaning man.

"I didn't hurt you, did I? You shouldn't steal, I know how hard it is to live here in the slums, but it's still a crime..." she was telling him while she helped him to sit up. The man lifted a hand to his bleeding nose and glared at Cloud.

"The joker was asking for it. Uptown kid like that, in fancy clothes, coming down here to play brave or something..."

Cloud's eyes went wide at the anger in his voice, and he took a few steps back, opening his mouth to give an answer but unable to make any sound. The girl turned to look at him as well and frowned slightly.

"But it's not his fault if he was born on the plate in stead of down here." She searched her pockets and gave the man a few coins. "Take these."

The man took the gils and thanked her, glaring at Cloud before getting up and running off from the spot. The blond was still too surprised to do anything but stare. Then he slowly looked down and wondered what was so fancy about his old tee and a baggy pair of black pants. The scars in his arms he'd covered with bandages. He looked up at the girl and opened his mouth a few times before finding his voice.

"But... I don't even live on the plate. I just got into Midgar two days ago..."

The girl smiled and checked her flowers quickly. "Don't mind him, he used to work for ShinRa but lost his job and has been bitter since. A lot of people here were cheated by them, but they don't have anywhere else to go. New in town, huh? Where are you from?"

He was going to say that it was none of her business, but ended up telling the truth. "Originally I'm from Nibelheim, but I've been around..."

"Nibelheim..." she frowned but smiled soon. "I've heard that it's a nice place. Flowers and trees and grass, the mountains and lakes. And seasons, not just this greyness." She looked almost dreamy, making Cloud feel a bit uncomfortable. He had never thought much of his hometown, it had never really been a home to him, just a place he was born in. Home had been... him. But listening to her, he did realize how much better a place Nibelheim was than this rathole.

"Yeah..." he admitted slowly. "It's been a few years since I was home, though. Umm, are you from Midgar?"

"No, not originally, but it has become a home to me. I'm Aeris, by the way. And you are...?"

"Cloud." He answered and looked away, feeling a bit embarrassed when her face split to a wide smile.

"Nice to meet you, Cloud! Would you like a flower? They're only a gil each?"


Before he knew it, they had spent three hours walking and talking. Mostly about Midgar, Aeris telling him things that everyone who lived in the slums should know about, and Nibelheim, Cloud describing the nature to her. She didn't sell much flowers, but did thank the blond for being her 'bodyguard'.

"I can take care of myself, you learn quickly here, but it's nice not having to constantly watch my back and my purse." She said, smiling, but her voice was sad. Cloud just shrugged and turned his eyes away. There was something about Aeris that made the blond think of HIM. The more time he spent with her, the more HE was in his thoughts, but every time he turned his mind to the lost time he hit a wall. It frustrated him to no end, the thoughts saddened him, and he soon grew quiet and morose. Aeris noticed it, but didn't push the matter, content for the time being to just wander around with the stranger.

Cloud's head came up instantly when someone actually stopped them to buy a flower. He looked at his watch and noticed, to his surprise, that he'd spent most of the day in the slums. It was late afternoon already "Oh. I'd better start to get back home, now. Will you be alright?" he asked when the customer left with three flowers.

Aeris nodded and smiled." Yes, thank you for keeping me company. Don't be a stranger, Cloud!" With that, she started to walk down a crowded street. Cloud watched after her for a while, wondering if he should follow her. But she'd probably laugh at him for worrying. He turned towards Cid's apartment house, stopping at a small grocery store on the way to get some food.

Vincent was slouching on the couch when he got back, looking like he'd just woken up. The goth waved a hand when Cloud passed him to the kitchen, not turning his blood-red eyes from the TV. The blond put the groceries in the fridge or just left them on the table before heading to the couch as well. Vincent moved a bit away from him but still said nothing.

"I bought some food if you're hungry..." Cloud muttered eventually, hoping that Vincent would go to the kitchen so that he could stretch out on the couch. It had been nice to talk to Aeris, but the constant almost-remembering had made his head hurt, and the blond just wanted to lie down and close his eyes. And toss the TV out the window. He didn't recognize the program, but he knew the type, a talk show where the host tried to get his guests to fight. The little what he knew of Vincent, he'd never guessed that the man liked that kind of programs.

Vincent shrugged and switched the channel to a chocobo race. "No thanks. I don't usually eat anything this early."

Cloud frowned but still couldn't be bothered with the goth's sleeping habits. "Okay... is Cid coming home soon?"

"Probably, if he doesn't go to a bar. Your cousin is a budding alcoholic." Vincent's tone was a flat monotone, like he'd just said that it looks a bit cloudy outside.

"Do you work anywhere?"

Now Vincent frowned and looked at the blond from the corner of his eyes. "Yes."

"Just wondering. You seem to be here a lot."

"Hmm. Believe it or not, my apartment is even worse than this."

"Oh. How did you and Cid meet?"

"What is this, twenty questions? If you want me to fuck off, just say so." The goth muttered but didn't seem annoyed.

"Just wondering. Is the bedroom as bad as Cid said it is?" Cloud continued, smiling slightly.

"Worse. I'll sit on the chair..." Vincent took the hint and got up, moving to the squeaking chair by the window.

Cloud kicked his boots off and stretched on the couch. The goth didn't seem to be as rude as he had thought. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Cloud closed his eyes and let the TV drift off to the background as he started to think on what had happened that day. There was certainly something about Aeris that he needed to find out more about. He knew that he'd forgotten a lot, more than just the last three months, and something in her reminded him of it. He was sure he'd never met her before, so it couldn't be that. The blond decided to go back the next day and find her. Talk to her. And the day after that, and the one after that, until he'd remember something. Maybe she could help him unlock the barriers in his mind.

-x-x-x-

The evening was deceivingly quiet, and none of them dared to truly trust the sudden peace. Winter was slowly turning towards spring, but it was still so cold. The sun had settled a few hours ago and the dark blue sky was dotted with a myriad of stars. Only a few men were on watch, constantly scanning the battlefields of the last few days and the no man's land between them and the enemy's lines. No animals lived here anymore, so if something moved, it was the enemy.

The rest of the Wutaian troops were in their shabby barracks, built around a small bunker, trying to sleep or at least let their muscles rest. ShinRa could attack any moment, they had made a habit of attacking in the middle of the night, or just after the last attack, forever keeping the Wutaians on their toes. And it was starting to get to them.

Even though they had the best general they could think of, a man born in Wutai, the natives were starting to think again that the war was as good as lost. When general Sephiroth had taken over Lord Godo in leading the troops, it had gotten better, and the Wutaians had started to believe that they had a chance of finishing the war, and soon. But ShinRa had countered by sending out two of their own generals, accompanied with fresh troops. When it had become clear that the invaders were growing too strong, the spellcaster had been sent to help them. Just a kid, really, but again, he had made a difference. ShinRa had far more men than Wutai did, so they just answered with sending in more troops. But the battles were more even now, with a few of the powerful spellcasters on their side, able to throw in spells that took out five, sometimes maybe even ten men at once. Even two strong spells like that per battle had made a difference.

But the invaders just kept coming, and even though the Wutaians knew the terrain and had placed many successful ambushes, they were now besieged. Unable to go further back, or the last farms and villages in the land would be in danger, and unable to push ShinRa back as there were so many of them. Still, they had planned a surprise attack, and if ShinRa just kept their distance tonight, they'd be strong enough to hit the invaders full force before the sun would rise. If everything went as planned, they'd at least hit them and hard. Maybe hard enough to drive them back a bit.

"Then we'll attack again, when they're still licking their wounds, before their reinforcements come in, and we will push them back." Sephiroth's voice was so full of conviction that they all just had to believe him. There was no option. They'd go in and kick ass, to put it plainly. The Wutaians nodded and, after saluting, wandered off to inform the troops who were supposed to lead the attack at dawn. Sephiroth watched them go, smiling, hoping that his words were enough to keep them fighting.

"You realize, love, that it's not that simple..." the silver-haired general muttered when they were alone. Cloud shrugged, not looking up from sharpening his sword.

"It never is. But as long as we believe that we'll win, we'll win." The spellcaster muttered and closed his eyes when a strong hand came down to stroke his wild hairs. His hands stopped and Cloud just about purred when the hand was joined by another one, and they slid down to his shoulders, rubbing gently.

"I want you to get a good night's sleep, love. Because tomorrow I'll need you to give me 200 percent of what you've got."

"I know, Seph... all the spells I've got and then some." Cloud muttered, melting under the ministrations of the skilled hands. He was tired, but had been too tense to sleep earlier. Now he had to fight to stay awake.

"It'll be hard..."

"... But worth it. I know the deal, general, sir."

Lips touched his neck, and Cloud did purr. Sephiroth chuckled behind his back.

"Love you, lovely. Now get some sleep. I'll wake you when it's time to go."

The sword was taken from his hands and placed carefully on the ground. All Cloud had to do was guide himself on the cot, and then he was asleep, even before the general spread the blanket on him. War was hell, but moments like this made it a bit more bearable.

Sephiroth left his young lover, smiling softly and marveling how lucky they'd been to meet each other. He'd often heard people talk of love, and sing mushy songs, but he'd never really bought it, thinking it was just wishful thinking. But what he had with Cloud... it was something so beautiful and special it would kill him to lose it. And for something like that to blossom in the middle of a horrible war like this... what were the odds of that happening?

"Thank you, Leviathan..." the general whispered and glanced once more into the barracks before stepping outside to check on the watchmen.

Not half an hour had passed when Sephiroth, ever the warrior, could feel in the back of his neck that something was wrong. He instantly turned towards the barracks, cutting short what he had just been saying to one of the watchmen at the far end of the trenches.

"Sir?"

"Did you hear something?"

Sephiroth barely had time to finish the sentence when they heard the cries and gunshots. They both took off running, and most of the other watchmen followed, leaving only a few to watch the fields. The ice covering the small puddles broke beneath their feet, the slushy, iced snow making it harder to run in the trenches, but nothing could stop Sephiroth when he sensed danger.

They were about twenty feet from the barracks when they heard the explosion. Half of the roof collapsed, and men cried, dying and in pain. They all stopped in shock and just stared for a few heartbeats, until Sephiroth exploded into action and just about flew over the snow and falling debris.

"Watch the fields they're bound to attack! You there, start clearing the mess, get the wounded to safety! What the hell happened!"

The men obeyed immediately, picked up their weapons before starting to clear the ruins of the barracks. Someone reported that a bomb had exploded on the door, a suicide bomber from ShinRa's side, but no one knew how he'd gotten there. Half of the roof had collapsed, almost half of the men inside seemed to be uninjured and already helping the others. Sephiroth swallowed hard when he realized that most of the men had slept near the door, in case of a surprise attack. He kept barking out orders and helping the injured, making a mental checklist of the dead, so many dead, although the only thing he wanted to do was get to Cloud, NOW. He had left the spellcaster sleeping somewhere around the middle of the small building, and hoped that he was far enough to be alright. And not under the roof. Please, Leviathan, let him be alright...

"Sir! Come quickly!" One of the soldiers called, and Sephiroth turned to see the man waving to him, just under the part of the roof which was still up. The general made his way carefully there, calling out for help for those he came across on the way. Only a few feet, but still so many dead and wounded... more than in any of the last battles. They couldn't afford to lose this many men... they just couldn't. ShinRa must have known.

All other thoughts promptly disappeared when he reached the man and saw what had happened.

Luckily, Cloud had been on the safe side of the collapse. Well, most of him. The blond's cot had fallen over and covered him from dust and debris, but only after the roof had already collapsed. Sephiroth figured that the spellcaster had instinctively reached for his sword when the first warnings had been shouted, thus having his right hand out when the beam had fallen and crushed the limb. Cloud was barely conscious, moaning and crying in pain. There was blood on the blond's forehead, and the beam was still on his arm so Sephiroth didn't know how serious the injury was, but he could guess that the blond wouldn't be fighting or casting many spells soon.

"... Shit. Help me get it off of him."

The two of them managed to lift the beam, and found the unfortunate soldier who had been completely crushed by it. Sephiroth winced, recognizing the dead man as a boy from his home village. But right now he was more worried about the survivors. Still fearing an attack, they had to get the wounded somewhere safe. As far as he knew, their only healer, besides Cloud, was still alive. He'd have his hands full tonight.

The general winced again when he saw the bone sticking out through the spellcaster's skin both above and below the elbow. The joint seemed to be just bloody pulp, and it was clear that the arm would have to be cut off unless it was healed right away. The soldier was already calling for the healer, realizing the same thing Sephiroth knew. With so many men gone, without Cloud's spells the war was lost.

Sephiroth was loathe to leave his lover even in the healer's hands, but the horn that warned the troops of an attack sounded just then, and he was forced to leave.

The attack was short but bloody. ShinRa clearly had expected that there'd only be a few already injured men to oppose them. In stead they met a strong, albeit small, and enraged front of stubborn Wutaians who didn't give in one inch. By dawn the battle was over, and the sun rose above an unusually peaceful battlefield. The men cursed the invaders as they helped the wounded and buried the dead, still weary from battle themselves. Sephiroth was amongst them, working as hard as the other men, even though his thoughts were constantly on Cloud, when he wasn't plotting a new attack, pondering what he could do with such a small number of men.

He tried to go and check on the spellcaster every chance he got, but there was always something urgent that demanded his attention. Finally he had made it into the barracks, and had been relieved when the healer had told him that Cloud's arm would be fine, given time to heal on itself. The man had done his best, but Cloud wouldn't do any more fighting in the next few months. Sephiroth had based his new plans on the fact that the blond wouldn't be able to cast many spells, either, knowing that the most powerful spells involved using both hands.

"Sir!" Sephiroth woke from his thoughts and from staring at the rising sun when a young man approached him, weary and hurt. "Sir, Strife is asking for you, sir." Cloud didn't have a rank as he did, so most of the Wutaians called him by either his first or his last name. Sephiroth was the only to call him 'love'.

"Thank you. Get some rest, that's an order." He said before the soldier had time to object, and rushed towards the remains of the barracks. They'd ended up taking the wounded to the back of the building, erecting tents for the survivors in the trenches and on top of the fallen roof. Cloud was also in the back of the room; Sephiroth didn't need to be guided towards him.

"Love?" He whispered when he got to the bed, and sat down. "Love, are you awake?"

Cloud's right arm was entirely splintered and bandaged to keep it from moving, and he also had a bandage around his head. The spellcaster's skin was so pale and there were dark rings around his eyes.

"He's been asking for you for the last fifteen minutes, sir. We were waiting for him to fall back asleep. Looks like he finally did." The healer said, coming to stand next to the general. They'd already gone through the injured soldiers and the list of the deceased ones, and come up with trouble.

"... Didn't... Seph?"

"I'm here, love..." Sephiroth muttered and leaned closer, keeping himself from reaching out and grabbing Cloud's hand. The spellcaster smiled thinly and opened one eye.

"... Let's fry... ShinRa."

Sephiroth let out a small laugh and the healer rolled his eyes.

-x-x-x-


A.N: I can't remember who wrote the music used in the Beer song, but Weird Al Yankovic wrote those lyrics... don't ask why I know them...