He was trapped in a haze of green. His mind was foggy and clouded, his every thought fleeting as if sand through his hands. His was only vaguely aware of his body; That is, he knew it existed, but whatever it did was unknown to him. He found he didn't care. Or rather, he couldn't care. He felt. . . something close to content with this arrangement. Comfortable, almost. Floating freely amongst nothingness, unbothered by even himself -- he would have smiled if he could.
As it is, he did nothing, and was quite satisfied.
Something whispered in his ear, quick and quiet and all the more discomfitting for it. He was quite certain he was alone here, wherever 'here' was. He couldn't see anyone; All around him was just the same swirling shade of green. Except. . . were his eyes actually open? Was he actually seeing anything? Where was he, anyway?
He was starting to feel anxious. Something felt off now, his previous relaxed state gone. What was going on? Last thing he remembered, he was. . .Huh. He didn't know, actually. What was he doing last? What is he doing now? He couldn't have been floating in the green forever, couldn't he?
He heard the whisper again, louder this time, and latched on to it. The voice sounded. . .familiar. Did he know it? Did it know him? Who was he, anyway? He found he couldn't remember. The voice. . . the voice would know, wouldn't it? He thinks it's been trying to get his attention.
All this questioning was making him tired, but he focused nonetheless. Tried to, anyway. It was getting harder to think. . . the green was so comforting, so relaxing. . .
". .u reco. . .ze me. . ? R. . ."
No! He had to stay focused! He could just barely make out the words, and the voice sounded. . .panicked? Scared? Why was the voice so upset? Was something bad happening?!
He was suddenly overcome with concern. He had to help! He focused -- focused, focused, focused on trying to remember, to move, to think. Where the green once felt like a welcoming embrace, he now felt like it was suffocating him, shackling his arms and legs and trying to hold him down. He had to fight back! He just had to! The voice. . . he had to help the voice!
He was on the verge of begging when the voice sounded off again, crystal clear and breaking through the foggy haze.
"Come on, please. . . Seph --"
. . .Cloud?
Sephiroth opened his eyes.
The first thing that returned to him was his hearing. There was an alarm sounding off, and underneath its blaring was the hiss of broken tubes and pipes. This was weird on account of his last memory being in the ShinRa Mansion. Then again, it was a rather fuzzy memory.
The next thing to return was his sight. It was blurry at first, and he had to blink many times to get it to clear. He was. . . in the reactor. Probably? The room was bathed in red light from alarms and the green glow of mako, but he didn't recognize the room.
Spacial awareness and feeling in his limbs came in just in time for him to realize that Cloud was right in front of him and leaning forward precariously. Alarm spiked through him as he fell forward, and Sephiroth hurried to catch him.
"Cloud?!" He asked sharply, "What happened?! What's wrong?!" He shook him lightly as he asked, more panicked by the minute by the lack of response. He hunched to try and get a better look at Cloud's face, eyes searching. Was that. . .was that blood?
The stench of blood was overwhelming and, horrified, Sephiroth looked down. There, sticking out of Cloud's stomach, was a sword's hilt. Masamune's hilt. The blade itself stuck out behind him, slick with his blood. Sephiroth's eyes trailed from the wound, to the blade, and then finally to his left hand, honing in on the bloodstains covering his glove and sleeve.
Did. . . did he do this?
". . .Seph?" A quiet, strained voice was heard, and he met blue eyes.
"You're. . .okay?" Cloud whispered. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were hazy and filled with pain. Even so, his expression lifted as soon as he met Sephiroth's eyes. "You're okay!"
He had no business sounding so relieved when he himself was hurt so bad. He was impaled, for Goddess's sake! The thought snapped Sephiroth out of his stupor, and he quickly got to work. Quickly, but oh, so carefully, he lowered Cloud to the ground. He had to be careful not to disturb his sword; He didn't want Cloud to bleed out more than he was already. There was so much blood. . .
He rolled back his sleeves, praying that he had his revive equipped. His heart dropped at the sight of a single green materia. Fire, still hot and glowing. It was then that he noticed he soot and smoke sticking to their clothes. There were burns on Cloud's arms. Gaia, what had he been doing?
A hand wiped away tears he didn't know he was crying, and he looked down to see Cloud smiling tiredly at him. Shaking, he grabbed and held it. "I - I'm sorry --" He choked out, only to be shushed.
"Hey, don't cry. . .it's okay." Cloud spoke so fondly, so softly, and Sephiroth wanted nothing more but to believe him. He shook his head.
"It's not okay, I -- I did this to you, I --"
Again, he was cut off, gently but firmly. "Come on, it's not your fault. . ." Cloud chuckled softly, but soon devolved into coughing. Sephiroth paled. His scarf was covered in blood. "Really, it's my fault more than anything. . .Should've tried harder."
What did that mean? What the hell did that mean?!
"Wha. . ."
"Don't worry, Seph. I'll do better next time. Promise."
He said it with such a sad smile that Sephiroth's already torn heart was shattered into pieces. That sentence implied so, so, so many things and absolutely none of them were good. He didn't have time to linger on that train of thought, though, because Cloud's hand was growing limp in his. The light in his eyes was fading, and quick.
Struck with desperation, Sephiroth leaned in closely, and reached out to hold his face. He was begging, pleading, sobbing, but he couldn't hear a thing. All that mattered was the shallow breaths of his love, the weakening pulse, the blood pooling around them. When the last of the life left his eyes -- pulse gone, breath gone, Cloud gone -- Sephiroth screamed.
It happened again. It happened again and this time it really was his fault, and there was no one left to tell him it wasn't. Cloud was dead, just as dead as Angeal and as dead as Genesis will be and for all he knew Zack was dead, too. They were all dead, it was all his fault, and he couldn't take it anymore.
"Please, please. . ." He pleaded, "I'll do anything! Please, just. . . Just let me fix this. . .! Please. . ." His voice broke as he trailed off. Unable to hold back his tears, he cradled the body beneath him, begging softly. He didn't even know who he was begging to -- he just needed someone, anyone to answer his prayers.
And someone did.
"Well, now, isn't this interesting. . ."
The voice was so sickeningly familiar that he shot up in an instant, positioned protectively over Cloud. It didn't matter that he still didn't have his sword; He wasn't completely inept in hand-to-hand, and he did have his Fire materia. What he saw caught him off guard, though.
It was an endless sea of green, stretching as far as he could see, and eeriliy similar to his earlier imprisonment. Unlike before, though, he wasn't alone. Standing in front of him was a perfect copy of himself, exact in all except expression. Sephiroth hoped with all he had that he never wore such a cruel expression.
"You sure sounded desperate there. . . Anything, you said?" Even the clone's voice was dripping with malice and cold amusement. Sephiroth shivered, but nodded cautiously.He didn't dare hope, but. . . The clone's shoulders shook in a way that looked like a laugh, but no sound came out. "I think I might be able to help."
A voice came from behind him. "Don't listen to him, Seph." It hurt so much to hear it, and whipped around in a flash. Face-to-face with him was Cloud, alive and. . .older? His hair was duller and shorter, the spikes lying closer to his head, and his clothes were different, almost like a modified SOLDIER's outfit. His eyes even held the mako glow of one, in fact.
Sephiroth took exactly three seconds to note the changes before throwing himself around Cloud's shoulders. He held him tight, so scared to let go, and Cloud rubbed comforting circles on his back. "I'm sorry. . .I'm sorry. . ." He mumbled, face pressed in the crook of his neck. He had to hunch over to reach that low, but he didn't care.
Cloud sighed, and petted his hair. "You big baby. . .I told you, it's not your fault. You don't need to apologize. . ." His tone was soothing even as he scolded, and Sephiroth wished he could believe him. If he looked, though, he could still see the literal blood on his hands.
"How touching."
The moment was ruined. Sephiroth found himself being pushed, and suddenly Cloud was between him and the clone. An arm was raised protectively in front of him.
"Don't you fucking dare."
Sephiroth was shocked; He'd never, for as long as they'd known each other, heard that much hatred in Cloud's voice. It hurt, a little, even if he knew he and the clone were different people.
The clone simply laughed, low and foreboding. "I'm offering you the perfect out, Cloud. The one your very selfish heart has been wishing for." He opened his arms in a mockery of offer, purring the name with such a tone that Sephiroth was tempted to lunge out and strangle him. "This is your chance to let someone else play the hero for once. Isn't that what you want, Cloud? For it to be someone else's problem for once?"
"Shut up!" Cloud yelled. Sephiroth caught on a phrase, though, and looked worriedly at him.
"Cloud, what's he talking about? Playing the hero?"
"Not now," He opened his mouth to argue, but Cloud narrowed his eyes. "Later, Sephiroth."
"More lies, Cloud? You know very well there won't be a later."
Cloud scowled, but said nothing. Sephiroth's heart dropped. The clone smirked, engaging Cloud in a tense staring contest. Neither of them would give, he knew, but damn it all if Sephiroth wasn't desperate. He didn't know what was going on, but he thought he had the gist of it. Something bigger was going on, and it could go two ways: Either Cloud got stuck with some soul-crushing task, or he took responsibility for it. From what he could tell, it seemed like Cloud had been dealing with it for a long, long time.
He remembered Cloud's earlier words in the reactor. He didn't have time to linger on them at the time, but. . . An awful thought occured to him. Whatever happened in that reactor, in Nibelheim -- it was part of Cloud's responsibility. Whatever he had done there, Cloud was supposed to stop it, and failed. And failed. And. Failed.
The idea that he might've hurt Cloud -- might've killed Cloud -- multiple times made him sick to his stomach, and he blurted out, "What's the catch?!"
Cloud looked sharply back at him, and the clone looked exponentially amused.
"Whatever do you mean?"
He swallowed, and ignored Cloud's scathing look. "If. . .If I let you help me, then what do you get out of it?"
The clone hummed. "'Help' has a relative meaning. All those you've lost will be returned to you, as if nothing ever happened. However. . ." There was an amused lilt to his voice, cold and cruel. Sephiroth swallowed his hope, and waited. " You would be taking over Cloud's job of preventing calamity. Quite a difficult one, too, if his countless deaths are anything to show."
That was exactly what he was afraid of. Horrified, he looked at Cloud, noting how he refused to meet his gaze. Cloud. . .
"I'll do it."
"Sephiroth --!"
"Cloud." He spoke softly, cradling his face in his hands. Cloud quieted, panic evident in his eyes. It was clear he didn't trust a word the clone said; Sephiroth respected that, and took it to heart. He didn't trust it either. Still, though. . ."I can't just stand by while you put yourself in danger like that. I've already hurt you enough."
Cloud opened his mouth to protest, but Sephiroth shushed him. Slowly, he leaned down. He kissed him tenderly, trying to commit the softness of his lips to memory. Cloud kissed him back just as tender, soft and slow, and then he felt wetness on his cheek. Pulling back, he saw that Cloud was crying. He wiped away the tears, and pulled him to his chest, resting his chin on his head.
They stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the comfort of each other's warmth. Eventually, though, he pulled away, and faced the clone. It smiled cruelly.
"Ready?" It asked. He nodded, holding tight to Cloud's hand. "Excellent. One last thing, though. . ."
Cloud gasped. Sephiroth turned just in time to watch as he fell through the ground, hand slipping out of grip. Alarm filled his heart, and he rounded on the clone. "What did you do?!" He growled.
It only laughed. "I simply raised the stakes. See, I'm not really supposed to be here. . . And you're not supposed to go back. I'm really putting my neck on the line here. . .So you'll just have to do the same." It raised its arms above, praising nothing, and continued. "If you succeed, I'll let you keep your happily ever after. If you fail, however. . ." Slowly, it lowered its arms, looking Sephiroth in the eyes. His breath caught; It had an unhinged, entirely too eager expression. "Then Cloud loses."
Sephiroth hadn't the slightest idea what that meant. If Cloud disappearing had anything to do with him 'losing', though. . .
He wasn't given long to ponder it, though, as soon his surroundings shook and swirled around him. A wave a dizziness and nausea hit hard enough to bring him to his knees, and he clutched his head as a pain steadily grew in it. He groaned, curling into himself. His vision tunnel, and he heard one last thing before it went completely black.
"Good luck."