Universe: Dissidia
Timeline: Dissidia

Status: Friendship

"Easy, Cloud," came a muffled voice from the edges of Cloud's barely conscious mind. He blinked heavily, finding a blurred vision of Firion before him. Cloud could feel hands on his shoulders, which were most likely the only things keeping him sitting upright.

"What happened?" he coughed out, his voice coming out breathy, which told him at the very least that he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He blinked again, the corners of his vision becoming clearer. Now, he could see Cecil and Tidus peering over him as well with tight, fearful expressions.

"That manikin attacked you," Cecil reminded him, his silver hair falling over his shoulder as he turned his head back, and pointed at the crystal corpse behind the group, as it burned away in a wisp of black and purple smoke.

"Creepiest manikin I ever saw," Tidus added, softly, with a glance back at the dark crystal form.

Just moments ago, that creature had been coming at them in full force, a black mist emanating from its limbs. Its spells had been rapid and relentless, but not one of them had been a spell that the group could identify. Its magic didn't seem to be of any of the elements they were familiar with, but rather forces of a foreign, dark energy.

"Are you alright now?" Firion asked, gently, his hands easing their way off of Cloud's shoulders. When he was sure Cloud could continue to sit on his own, he let his arms rest on his knee as he continued to crouch by his friend's side.

"I'm fine," Cloud instinctively answered, but as he pushed himself to his feet, he quickly discovered how wrong he had been.

He fell forward, and Tidus and Cecil let out surprised noises as they reached out to catch him. He landed against their chests, but quickly pulled away in embarrassment, finding his footing and adjusting the sword on his back; just this once, he would blame the giant blade for throwing him off balance.

"Let us rest for now. The battle has made us all a little weary," Cecil spoke up. Cloud went to protest, but his knees buckled beneath him. Luckily, Tidus sped forward and caught him by the waist before his legs gave out completely.

"Whoa, there. You okay, buddy?" he asked, with a small tilt of his head. He smiled gently, his blue eyes staring into Cloud's with such care, and Cloud suddenly found himself wondering how he had earned so much trust and respect from these people—these people who didn't think twice about calling him a friend.

"Y-yeah," Cloud nodded, and Tidus let go of his waist, but only so he could come to stand beside him and link their elbows instead. Cloud could feel himself being watched, so he shyly turned his head to catch Tidus' gaze.

"I'll hold on to ya, just in case," Tidus simply grinned.

"May we set up camp, Cloud?" Firion asked, getting to his feet. Cloud glanced down to see his legs trembling beneath him. Even with Tidus' help, he wouldn't make it very far in this state.

"Fine," he sighed.


Tidus jolted awake at the sound of his friend stirring in his sleep. Abashed, he rubbed his eyes where he sat, hoping Firion and Cecil hadn't caught him snoozing when it was his turn to keep an eye on Cloud. To his relief, he and Cloud were still alone in the tent, and the door was still zipped shut; he was safe from their scolding this time.

Cloud made another noise, and Tidus was reminded of why he'd awoken in the first place. He turned to look at him, at his pained expression and tightly closed eyes. Tidus sighed. He hated that Cloud always seemed to sleep like that, with nightmares keeping him from a peaceful slumber. No one ever mentioned it since they all wanted to spare Cloud's feelings, but the group was awoken several nights a week by Cloud's whimpers and restlessness.

With a toss of his head, Cloud's eyes flew open, and he breathed hard as he sat up, a hand travelling to his upper arm, which was filled with a stabbing pain. His gaze went first to where his hand was clasped over the throbbing area, then to Tidus, who was sitting a couple of feet away, with a knee bent up leisurely towards his chest.

"You okay?" Tidus casually asked, not wanting to let on that he had been aware of Cloud's broken sleep. Cloud let out a breath that sounded shakier than he'd intended.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing his arm. His gaze returned to it, but under the movement of his hand, he caught sight of grey lines. His fingers flew back from the skin, and he watched the lines twist and twirl, forming patterns right then and there on his pale complexion.

"What?" he whispered, but it was loud enough that Tidus had heard.

"What's wrong?" came his concerned voice. Tidus crawled over to him, wearing a frown that only deepened as he gazed upon the odd phenomenon. Those grey lines drifted over Cloud's bicep like smoke, shading and filling in empty spaces to form an actual picture—one which Cloud recognized far before it was finished.

"What is that?" Tidus asked, voice shocked and scared as he stared at the scene depicted on his friend's arm. There was a table set in the middle of a room, with a dark-haired man strapped down to it. In behind were giant capsules, one of which contained what looked to be a younger Cloud. He was shorter, thinner, less built, and his eyes were closed as if he were asleep.

"Is that you?" Tidus' words were weak as he asked the question, his heart filling with a disquietude that made him feel sick. Cloud brushed a hand over the skin; it didn't feel any different to the touch, but the pain inside lingered. And the emotional pain... Well, that was on another scale entirely.

"Y-you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Tidus spoke up again, and Cloud realized he'd been hesitating for a long time. He shook his head.

Some part of him wanted to get this out in the open; the darkness that had infested his heart after seeing that drawing felt like it could destroy him if he let it burrow too deep. This was something he knew he needed to share in order to survive, and maybe that was the point. Maybe this spell—or whatever it was—was intended to make him suffer this emotional struggle, to force him to speak of memories he'd rather let die.

"For me, this is where everything started," Cloud weakly explained, his fingers travelling over the skin again, and he was surprised when Tidus' hand popped into his vision as well, touching the depiction along with his friend.

"All the bad stuff, you mean?" Tidus inquired, fingers so gentle as they grazed his skin. His gaze was fixed on the sketch, his brows slanted downward and eyes intense as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

"Yeah," Cloud breathed.

After a few moments to prepare himself, he was able to relay the story to Tidus, the story that he had been dreaming mere minutes ago—dreams of the maniacal Professor Hojo, the experiments that he and Zack had undergone, and the way time had seemed to stop in that place, the way they had been trapped and tortured.

Tidus watched him with frightened, worried eyes, sitting cross-legged in front of him now. His hands gripped his ankles tightly as he listened, and he let out a shaking breath as Cloud finished his explanation. Cloud breathed out as well, the ache in his heart lessening slightly and the pain in his arm dulling, but the drawing remained there, marring his skin.

"You said you were dreaming about that place right before you woke up just now?" Tidus cautiously asked, inhaling deeply and trying to calm himself.

It was hard to do so after all the horrible things he'd just heard, after coming to understand what Cloud had gone through. It was no surprise to him now that Cloud was as stoic as he was; he probably felt as though he had to defend himself every day of his life, so that he would never end up so helpless again.

"I was," Cloud affirmed.

"Then I think I know what this is," Tidus said, startling Cloud.

"You do?" Mako blue eyes were wide and inquisitive.

"It's a curse. Back in my world, there were legends about these evil spirits that had the ability to taint people's skin with images of their dreams. It's an invasion of privacy, obviously, which is one of the downsides, but its main purpose is to be like a scar of sorts, where everyone can see your darkest thoughts. It's supposed to bring shame to those who are cursed with the marks."

"But... you said it's just a legend, right?" Cloud asked, tilting his head in question.

"I didn't believe it until we came across a creature with that ability in Spira," Tidus shrugged.

"So... were you cursed, too?" Cloud's eyes were slightly wider as he asked the question.

"Uh-huh," Tidus admitted. His gaze fell away from Cloud's now, and one hand fell atop the other, brushing gingerly.

"Your hand?" Cloud asked, and Tidus nodded. With a deep breath, he reached for his right glove, and tugged the leather off of his skin. On the back of his hand was a faded drawing, the grey lines much lighter than Cloud's, but still decipherable. Tidus raised his wrist to give Cloud a better view of the picture.

Unlike Cloud's drawing, which didn't need a whole lot of explanation to know that something was terribly wrong in that scene, Tidus' picture was lost on Cloud. Sitting alone in front of a fire-pit was Tidus, surrounded by a big, dome-like room. It almost looked like a temple of sorts. Tidus' knees were pulled up to his chest, his hands hugging his legs tightly, and his head resting atop them. After a few long moments of trying to figure out the drawing, Cloud looked up to Tidus for an explanation. Tidus pointed at the picture with his opposite hand as he began to speak.

"This was right after I landed in Spira. I ended up in this place, lost and cold and hungry, and when I finally got tired enough to fall asleep, I dreamt I was completely alone. It seemed to last forever. I don't... I don't remember ever being so scared in my life," Tidus finished, though he'd seemed to struggle with the last part.

"It sounds awful," Cloud sympathized, and Tidus was grateful for the concern in Cloud's eyes. Tidus nodded.

"It was, but I made it through. And don't worry. The marks do fade in time," he said, pushing forth a smile and giving Cloud one last glance at his hand before he hid it under his glove again. He cleared his throat and reached for the long, red band of cloth that was criss-crossed around his arm and elbow. Carefully, he untied it.

"Until yours does the same, you can wear this, if you want," he offered, still smiling gently. Before Cloud could even reply, Tidus was kneeling forward, weaving the strip of fabric around Cloud's upper arm, covering up those awful marks that made Cloud feel toxic.

"Thank you, Tidus," he said, feeling the corners of his mouth soften into what was almost a smile; by the time Tidus had finished, that smile had formed completely—full and glowing.