Only the Beginning
By: Jenosavel
The scene in the Highwind was full of contradictions.
No one had been able to miss the blast that had taken place in the ruins beneath the jungle, and the fact that Gohan and Piccolo had survived had been an insignificant comfort when compared to the loss.
Cloud, Red XIII, Tifa.
When Aeris had returned, it had been expected, but was a relief nonetheless. This was especially so for Gohan, yet still, nothing would be able to fill the hole which had been left behind. They had not forgotten their mission, and they still had a leader who had proven himself, but neither Cid's leadership nor Aeris's encouragement could spur the group on. Without Cloud's passion and steadfast belief in his cause, their hearts had lost their fire.
Why were they in this battle? So what if Sephiroth was threatening another planet somewhere else? Why should they fight? They had saved their own planet once from Sephiroth, let the people of that other world do the same!
The hours dragged on like weeks with it appearing as though Sephiroth had won after all.
Pain.
Pure pain tore through Cloud, eating his body away as the intense light had stole his vision. Before blackness came swiftly over him, one final thought cried out from his deteriorating mind.
Tifa.
Blackness was everything. Blackness was everywhere. There was only blackness.
However, even the fact that there was blackness, and that he could realize this, meant that he couldn't be dead. Not yet.
Slowly, a sense of self-awareness returned to Cloud.
What was happening?
So soon you forget.
What? Cloud vaguely remembered the voice, but whom it belonged to escaped him.
How could you forget me, puppet?
Cloud suddenly remembered. Jenova. How could he have forgotten? He too had Jenova's cells in him, and, regardless of Jenova's hatred for him, they would do the same thing for him as they had done for Sephiroth and Hojo. He would live to see another battle.
Unfortunately.
You'll never win! In his mind, Cloud was screaming. As long as you live, I'll torment you! You'll pay for what you've done! Oh Planet, Tifa!
Pain.
Pain and more pain exploded in Cloud's body wrestling with the pain in his heart and mind for dominion over him. He clung to the pain, the only sign that he was alive. He was alive.
He was alive, and Tifa was not.
How many hours passed, Cloud couldn't tell. It could have as easily been a few seconds as a week. He had absolutely no awareness of the passing of time. All he could think about was the pain. The pain and pursuing Sephiroth.
Must make Sephiroth pay.
Must make Jenova pay.
The thoughts only eased his aching heart slightly, and it was never a lasting remedy. Truthfully, though he would not admit it, he did not want the pain to go away. It was proof that he was alive, that Tifa had been there.
Cloud gradually became aware of a dim light. Straining to test himself, he managed to figure out that the light was coming from small fires, scattered throughout the blackened pocket beneath Midgar. Realizing also, that Hojo was injured and on the path to recovery, Cloud willed his own healing to quicken. He would make them, all of them, pay.
In a few short moments, Cloud was on his feet. It was darkly ironic that all this time he'd had these powers of Jenova, and that only now when it was too late to save her did he realize his potential.
Breathing in the sooty air, Cloud relished the feeling of the stinging air in his lungs. The thick scent of smoke and burned flesh scorched his lungs, but it was proof he was alive. Be alive, he smirked, was good. He would make Sephiroth pay.
Still smirking like a mad man, Cloud took a quick glance around. Only one small spot had escaped the blast, where Sephiroth's portal had been. Most likely he had fled to Gohan's world, fled like the coward he was. Cloud's blood boiled as he thought about it, and he was hardly aware of it when his feet lifted off of the ground. He had Jenova's powers, and he would see that they were used to avenge Tifa.
With eyes darkly devoid of emotion, Cloud hovered over to a small spot of white that briefly flashed amid the gritty blackness of the ground. Bending down though his feet never touched landed, he picked up the multicolored materia from its resting place.
Next to it was his faithful blade, scorched from ivory white to onxy black. A hole was seared clean through it from where he'd tried to deflect the majority of the blast.
Fate must have been telling him something, for his blade to have survived like this, turned black like his heart. Standing up again, he fitted the materia into the fist-sized hole. With a wry smile he noted the irony. It was a perfect fit.
Gohan sat on the deck of the Highwind, trying to find some kind of comfort in the fresh breeze that blew in his face. It reminded him of home, but even that was meaningless now. The breeze was a liar. He was not home; it brought the fresh smells of new life when all that had happened was death. Gohan's shoulders shook as though he would cry again, but he knew he wouldn't. He couldn't cry anymore. The tears no longer came.
Spotting a speck moving on the horizon, Gohan numbly watched it without caring what it might be. It looked vaguely like Cloud, though Gohan knew that was only wishful thinking. Cloud had become so dear to him in such a short time. The man was always there to offer a kind word. He was always confident, and when Gohan was around him, he couldn't help but feel confident as well. No matter what happened, Cloud had been there to hold him together.
As the person drew closer, a small flicker of hope sparked within Gohan, but just then the ship took a turn and blocked the spot from Gohan's view. With his heart quickening, Gohan wanted to shout for Cid to turn back they way they'd been going, but he knew the captain would not hear.
Anxiety squeezed Gohan's chest, and he rushed across the airship's deck to get a better view. It was no use, and try as he might, he couldn't see what he'd thought was Cloud. Heart sinking, he hung his head.
"Hey there kid."
Gohan almost leapt out of his skin when the words came from behind him.
"What's the matter? Didn't think you could get rid of me that easily did you?"
He wanted to turn around more than anything in the world, but for a moment, fear gripped him. Cloud was dead. He was dead.
"It's probably better you don't turn around. I'm really a mess to look at."
A hand settled on Gohan's shoulder the same way Cloud's always had. He didn't move; he was afraid that if he moved, he'd find out that it was all just a dream.
"I need to get cleaned up, get a cure spell, and find some clothes."
Now tears did find their way into Gohan's eyes as the man he'd believed was dead walked by him and through the Highwind's door.
How was it possible? At he moment, Gohan didn't care. He bolted through the door after Cloud.
"I'm not that bad looking, am?" Cloud asked the unconscious form of Yuffie at his feet. "If everyone faints like that, I'm going to think I'm not welcome back."
Gohan would never be able to put into words how happy he was at this moment. Any doubts as to whether or not he was hallucinating had been removed.
"Cloud!" Aeris ran up to Cloud and threw her arms around him. He winced as she pressed against his wounds which hadn't completely healed. "I knew it!" She breathed, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back tears. "I knew you would be okay."
Cloud wondered if she even noticed he was naked.
"Uh Aeris?" Gohan ventured, walking up next to her and tugging on her dress. "I think we should let him go clean up."
Leaping away as though noticing Gohan there for the first time, she nodded hastily. "I guess I got a bit carried away, eh?"
After washing away the blood and soot, as well as casting cure on himself, Cloud had managed to scrape together some clothes to wear. Making his way to the control room where no doubt news of his arrival had already been received, he clenched his fist. Soon, very soon, Sephiroth would pay. No matter how cunning the man was, he would be no match for Cloud's rage, for the power that now burned in his veins. Smirking darkly, he tossed his blood red cloak over his shoulder.
It felt odd to no longer be wearing a SOLDIER uniform, but truthfully, one of those would be next to impossible to come by anymore. Instead, he'd managed to find some clothes similar in color and design, if a bit darker, and this cape to compliment it.
It might have seemed foolish, but Cloud liked the symbolism. He and Vincent now shared something far deeper than a respect for each other. They'd both lost the women they loved to the evils of Jenova. As Cloud stepped into the control room, the first thing he saw was Lucretia.
Cloud wondered if his eyes looked darker than normal, if they reflected what he was feeling. He would rather die than have Tifa come back as Lucretia did, forever beyond Vincent's grasp. It was better for her to be dead, than to be a shell of a human.
Vincent took in Cloud's new garb and merely nodded in acknowledgement of his friend. No emotion touched his face despite the woman by his side, and Cloud would've been surprised if any had tried.
Cid suddenly cut off Cloud's thoughts with a disbelieving laugh. "I thought you were #$*%&$^ dead!"
"You jes full of surprises," Barret muttered, rubbing his gun arm absently. "Damn. Jes when I think I figured you out, you $%&# come back from the dead!"
"Not the welcome I was expecting," Cloud admitted. "I thought you guys would be upset to see you hadn't gotten rid of me."
Aeris looked as though she wanted to scold Cloud for joking like that, after what had just happened, but if any thought of it had crossed her mind, she squashed it immediately.
"I bet you have a story to tell us," Cait Sith decided. "And I'm sure it's going to be better than Rufus's delirious tales of future glory."
It should have felt good to see these people again. Cloud knew it, but that didn't change anything. He was hollow and cold. Where once there had been hope there was only emptiness now. Emptiness and anger.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Cloud apologized. "I know where Sephiroth is, and we don't have much choice but to follow him."
Piccolo cast an odd glance at Cloud. His eyes were searching, wondering if they would really come to a strange world to fight an undefeatable enemy. Though Piccolo wouldn't know what Cloud did, logic told the hero they had no choice. One time or another it didn't matter. If Sephiroth destroyed the Planet, he won. Cloud had to force his fist to unclench. Sephiroth would not escape. No matter where he fled, no matter how long he ran, Cloud would find him. And he would pay.
"So where are we following him to?" Cid asked, again interrupting Cloud's thoughts. Any other time, he might have been annoyed. Now, however, he just didn't care.
Instead of attempting to explain things to his friends, Cloud simply pulled out the materia he'd kept. With it sitting in the palm of his outstretched hand, he concentrated on the way Sephiroth's Slow spell had felt.
In moments a swirling vortex appeared.
All that was left was to step through.
By: Jenosavel
The scene in the Highwind was full of contradictions.
No one had been able to miss the blast that had taken place in the ruins beneath the jungle, and the fact that Gohan and Piccolo had survived had been an insignificant comfort when compared to the loss.
Cloud, Red XIII, Tifa.
When Aeris had returned, it had been expected, but was a relief nonetheless. This was especially so for Gohan, yet still, nothing would be able to fill the hole which had been left behind. They had not forgotten their mission, and they still had a leader who had proven himself, but neither Cid's leadership nor Aeris's encouragement could spur the group on. Without Cloud's passion and steadfast belief in his cause, their hearts had lost their fire.
Why were they in this battle? So what if Sephiroth was threatening another planet somewhere else? Why should they fight? They had saved their own planet once from Sephiroth, let the people of that other world do the same!
The hours dragged on like weeks with it appearing as though Sephiroth had won after all.
Pain.
Pure pain tore through Cloud, eating his body away as the intense light had stole his vision. Before blackness came swiftly over him, one final thought cried out from his deteriorating mind.
Tifa.
Blackness was everything. Blackness was everywhere. There was only blackness.
However, even the fact that there was blackness, and that he could realize this, meant that he couldn't be dead. Not yet.
Slowly, a sense of self-awareness returned to Cloud.
What was happening?
So soon you forget.
What? Cloud vaguely remembered the voice, but whom it belonged to escaped him.
How could you forget me, puppet?
Cloud suddenly remembered. Jenova. How could he have forgotten? He too had Jenova's cells in him, and, regardless of Jenova's hatred for him, they would do the same thing for him as they had done for Sephiroth and Hojo. He would live to see another battle.
Unfortunately.
You'll never win! In his mind, Cloud was screaming. As long as you live, I'll torment you! You'll pay for what you've done! Oh Planet, Tifa!
Pain.
Pain and more pain exploded in Cloud's body wrestling with the pain in his heart and mind for dominion over him. He clung to the pain, the only sign that he was alive. He was alive.
He was alive, and Tifa was not.
How many hours passed, Cloud couldn't tell. It could have as easily been a few seconds as a week. He had absolutely no awareness of the passing of time. All he could think about was the pain. The pain and pursuing Sephiroth.
Must make Sephiroth pay.
Must make Jenova pay.
The thoughts only eased his aching heart slightly, and it was never a lasting remedy. Truthfully, though he would not admit it, he did not want the pain to go away. It was proof that he was alive, that Tifa had been there.
Cloud gradually became aware of a dim light. Straining to test himself, he managed to figure out that the light was coming from small fires, scattered throughout the blackened pocket beneath Midgar. Realizing also, that Hojo was injured and on the path to recovery, Cloud willed his own healing to quicken. He would make them, all of them, pay.
In a few short moments, Cloud was on his feet. It was darkly ironic that all this time he'd had these powers of Jenova, and that only now when it was too late to save her did he realize his potential.
Breathing in the sooty air, Cloud relished the feeling of the stinging air in his lungs. The thick scent of smoke and burned flesh scorched his lungs, but it was proof he was alive. Be alive, he smirked, was good. He would make Sephiroth pay.
Still smirking like a mad man, Cloud took a quick glance around. Only one small spot had escaped the blast, where Sephiroth's portal had been. Most likely he had fled to Gohan's world, fled like the coward he was. Cloud's blood boiled as he thought about it, and he was hardly aware of it when his feet lifted off of the ground. He had Jenova's powers, and he would see that they were used to avenge Tifa.
With eyes darkly devoid of emotion, Cloud hovered over to a small spot of white that briefly flashed amid the gritty blackness of the ground. Bending down though his feet never touched landed, he picked up the multicolored materia from its resting place.
Next to it was his faithful blade, scorched from ivory white to onxy black. A hole was seared clean through it from where he'd tried to deflect the majority of the blast.
Fate must have been telling him something, for his blade to have survived like this, turned black like his heart. Standing up again, he fitted the materia into the fist-sized hole. With a wry smile he noted the irony. It was a perfect fit.
Gohan sat on the deck of the Highwind, trying to find some kind of comfort in the fresh breeze that blew in his face. It reminded him of home, but even that was meaningless now. The breeze was a liar. He was not home; it brought the fresh smells of new life when all that had happened was death. Gohan's shoulders shook as though he would cry again, but he knew he wouldn't. He couldn't cry anymore. The tears no longer came.
Spotting a speck moving on the horizon, Gohan numbly watched it without caring what it might be. It looked vaguely like Cloud, though Gohan knew that was only wishful thinking. Cloud had become so dear to him in such a short time. The man was always there to offer a kind word. He was always confident, and when Gohan was around him, he couldn't help but feel confident as well. No matter what happened, Cloud had been there to hold him together.
As the person drew closer, a small flicker of hope sparked within Gohan, but just then the ship took a turn and blocked the spot from Gohan's view. With his heart quickening, Gohan wanted to shout for Cid to turn back they way they'd been going, but he knew the captain would not hear.
Anxiety squeezed Gohan's chest, and he rushed across the airship's deck to get a better view. It was no use, and try as he might, he couldn't see what he'd thought was Cloud. Heart sinking, he hung his head.
"Hey there kid."
Gohan almost leapt out of his skin when the words came from behind him.
"What's the matter? Didn't think you could get rid of me that easily did you?"
He wanted to turn around more than anything in the world, but for a moment, fear gripped him. Cloud was dead. He was dead.
"It's probably better you don't turn around. I'm really a mess to look at."
A hand settled on Gohan's shoulder the same way Cloud's always had. He didn't move; he was afraid that if he moved, he'd find out that it was all just a dream.
"I need to get cleaned up, get a cure spell, and find some clothes."
Now tears did find their way into Gohan's eyes as the man he'd believed was dead walked by him and through the Highwind's door.
How was it possible? At he moment, Gohan didn't care. He bolted through the door after Cloud.
"I'm not that bad looking, am?" Cloud asked the unconscious form of Yuffie at his feet. "If everyone faints like that, I'm going to think I'm not welcome back."
Gohan would never be able to put into words how happy he was at this moment. Any doubts as to whether or not he was hallucinating had been removed.
"Cloud!" Aeris ran up to Cloud and threw her arms around him. He winced as she pressed against his wounds which hadn't completely healed. "I knew it!" She breathed, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back tears. "I knew you would be okay."
Cloud wondered if she even noticed he was naked.
"Uh Aeris?" Gohan ventured, walking up next to her and tugging on her dress. "I think we should let him go clean up."
Leaping away as though noticing Gohan there for the first time, she nodded hastily. "I guess I got a bit carried away, eh?"
After washing away the blood and soot, as well as casting cure on himself, Cloud had managed to scrape together some clothes to wear. Making his way to the control room where no doubt news of his arrival had already been received, he clenched his fist. Soon, very soon, Sephiroth would pay. No matter how cunning the man was, he would be no match for Cloud's rage, for the power that now burned in his veins. Smirking darkly, he tossed his blood red cloak over his shoulder.
It felt odd to no longer be wearing a SOLDIER uniform, but truthfully, one of those would be next to impossible to come by anymore. Instead, he'd managed to find some clothes similar in color and design, if a bit darker, and this cape to compliment it.
It might have seemed foolish, but Cloud liked the symbolism. He and Vincent now shared something far deeper than a respect for each other. They'd both lost the women they loved to the evils of Jenova. As Cloud stepped into the control room, the first thing he saw was Lucretia.
Cloud wondered if his eyes looked darker than normal, if they reflected what he was feeling. He would rather die than have Tifa come back as Lucretia did, forever beyond Vincent's grasp. It was better for her to be dead, than to be a shell of a human.
Vincent took in Cloud's new garb and merely nodded in acknowledgement of his friend. No emotion touched his face despite the woman by his side, and Cloud would've been surprised if any had tried.
Cid suddenly cut off Cloud's thoughts with a disbelieving laugh. "I thought you were #$*%&$^ dead!"
"You jes full of surprises," Barret muttered, rubbing his gun arm absently. "Damn. Jes when I think I figured you out, you $%&# come back from the dead!"
"Not the welcome I was expecting," Cloud admitted. "I thought you guys would be upset to see you hadn't gotten rid of me."
Aeris looked as though she wanted to scold Cloud for joking like that, after what had just happened, but if any thought of it had crossed her mind, she squashed it immediately.
"I bet you have a story to tell us," Cait Sith decided. "And I'm sure it's going to be better than Rufus's delirious tales of future glory."
It should have felt good to see these people again. Cloud knew it, but that didn't change anything. He was hollow and cold. Where once there had been hope there was only emptiness now. Emptiness and anger.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Cloud apologized. "I know where Sephiroth is, and we don't have much choice but to follow him."
Piccolo cast an odd glance at Cloud. His eyes were searching, wondering if they would really come to a strange world to fight an undefeatable enemy. Though Piccolo wouldn't know what Cloud did, logic told the hero they had no choice. One time or another it didn't matter. If Sephiroth destroyed the Planet, he won. Cloud had to force his fist to unclench. Sephiroth would not escape. No matter where he fled, no matter how long he ran, Cloud would find him. And he would pay.
"So where are we following him to?" Cid asked, again interrupting Cloud's thoughts. Any other time, he might have been annoyed. Now, however, he just didn't care.
Instead of attempting to explain things to his friends, Cloud simply pulled out the materia he'd kept. With it sitting in the palm of his outstretched hand, he concentrated on the way Sephiroth's Slow spell had felt.
In moments a swirling vortex appeared.
All that was left was to step through.