Part III Chapter IX

Dreamless

During the last few years, most of his dreams had been nightmares. His hometown burning. Tifa bleeding out on the reactor floor. Aeris slumped over dead, impaled on Masamune. Terrifying flashes of Zack handing him the Buster Sword, and then those eyes closing forever.

Those scenes recycled through his subconscious often enough that Cloud could probably recreate them from memory alone, as if they were being etched into his mind. Luckily for his sanity, sandwiched in between were some that weren't so bad. These were the ones he'd started writing in his journal for, because the details didn't stick with him with the immediacy the nightmares did.

Cosmo Canyon was one of these, and although this time he arrived on Chocobo back instead of crammed inside a noisy red buggy, he was hit was a wave of dejavu upon seeing the sunset colored walls of stone, soaring out on the edge of a plateau. Lights burned in the windows carved into the stone, the cheerful colors heralding the onset of night. The sun had mostly faded from the sky, and the first shy stars were twinkling into existence as he watched.

There was a gate house, with a guard who came out just as he remembered. In the light from the torches the man's features were indistinguishable with that sentry. Only this time there was no Red XIII to banish the aura of suspicion. He drew up alongside the chocobo, raising the torch to let the firelight play across the figures of the strangers. Cloud saw the man's features harden, most likely at the gleam in Cloud's eyes. He'd kept them downcast, but at that range it'd be impossible to miss. He'd long since abandoned his SOLDIER uniform, the pants so dirty they appeared more brown than crimson and his no-longer-white shirt in a similar state of disgrace. His haggard appearance was probably the only thing that kept the sentry from turning him away on principle.

"What's your business with the Canyon?"

Cloud sighed, shifting to ease the ache from constant riding. The sentry was now inspecting his passenger, who Cloud had kept cradled in his arms for hours on end. The cloak seemed to be doing its work in concealing Sephiroth's eye-catching features, not a glimmer of silver to be found. "Rest. My friend is sick, and we've been on the road for days. I can pay." He still had the gil the armorer had pressed on him in Gongaga—all of the supplies he'd had to buy were purchased on the remaining credit.

"S'pose we have a room or two, and your money's good—you don't bring any trouble do you? We don't want any problems with ShinRa."

Cloud shook his head, too exhausted to give either reasons or assurance to relieve the guard's concerns. He didn't want to lie. "One's fine."

The sentry took another moment before taking the bird by its makeshift reins, leading the chocobo to the gatehouse. Cloud just kept a firm grip on the neck feathers, feeling the other SOLDIER shifting with the motion of the bird. Not quite deadweight in his arms, a familiar one.

Cloud almost started to doze as the chocobo climbed the steep, shadowed road toward the canyon proper. The bird was unsteady, carefully taking one ginger step after another, ruffled to be outside the jungles that had been its home. Under the experienced hand of the sentry it made it eventually, and Cloud snapped to attention to find the warm glow of light shining out of the inn door spilling across them. The sentry was passing over the chocobo's reigns to a stable-boy, and had turned to observe the blond again, "I'll help you with your friend. The rooms are up a flight of stairs."

The idea of losing that familiar weight felt so foreign to Cloud. He tightened his grip on his passenger, before relaxing. "No. I'm fine." He may be exhausted. He may be running on the dregs of sleep deprivation, pushing the limit of a SOLDIER—but he WAS still a SOLDIER.

He ignored the guard's mixed expression as he managed to maneuver Sephiroth off the bird and up the stairs, paying the gaping innkeeper, and collapsing into the bed. Somewhere in there he thought he asked after Bugenhagen, but sleep took him and he didn't remember anything else.

-.-

In the end he didn't have to try very hard to find the Elder of Cosmo Canyon. Cloud woke with a start to a knock on his door and a cheery "Morning!" moments before there was a creak of old, but oiled hinges and the scrape of wood as the door left it's frame. He found himself reaching for his weapon before he realized it, and it was only the fact that he knew that voice that kept him from leaping for it.

Bugenhagen was still recognizable, with his dark thick glasses, and fins of hair standing wildly on end. Those five years had not been kind to him, Cloud noticed, taking in a lack of wrinkles, a smaller bald spot, and the fading red still remaining amid mostly grey hair. Red XIII going missing had to have worried the astronomer, for there to be such a noticeable change.

Even though the scientist made himself welcome in the room, Cloud noted he did not come too close. The floating green orb parked itself a respectful distance away, and the little old man bobbed cheerily in place, seeming content to just wait while Cloud got himself oriented.

"Good morning." Cloud returned with a polite nod, stretching his arms to work the kinks out of them and smoothing out his clothes. He hadn't even bothered to change into the offered nightclothes—and he suddenly felt completely embarrassed. Here he was, a complete wreck, on the run from ShinRa, and he hadn't even bothered to freshen up before meeting with someone he meant to ask for help?

Granted, the man HAD come to see him...

He must have offered some sort of apologies because the elder just waved them off with a "Not to worry young man. I once traveled the world myself—the grime of the road is nothing new to me."

Cloud nodded his thanks, moving to Sephiroth's side and checking his pulse, and breathing. Just as slow as it had been for the past week. It was as if the man was trying to conserve energy, stretching out his reserves as long as possible until whatever it was passed. He could almost liken it to a healing sleep, the trances he'd seen some of his fellow SOLDIERs fall in to whenever critically wounded. SOLDIERs could fight and fight and fight some more, but once they got some time to rest, once the adrenaline failed, they either needed medical attention or a quiet place to crash as the mako drew on everything in order to heal them back up.

Those lasted for a couple days at most. Not nearly three weeks.

"Krayak told me you wanted to see me? I admit being curious as to what a SOLDIER and his…friend want with an eccentric stargazer such as myself. Cosmo Canyon is open to any who need a place of peace and rest, but I get the feeling that is not all you need."

Cloud remained silent, looking down at Sephiroth, bringing to mind the startling silver buried underneath concealing cloth. "He has not eaten. Woken. Spoken. For an entire span of three weeks."

"I assume he is another SOLDIER, since I doubt you would bring me a corpse." Bugenhagen floated closer, "I may act as the Canyon's local physician when needed, but I am not a doctor. ShinRa doctors would be a far better choice than I."

Cloud sighed, sinking on to the corner of the bed, palms digging into his eyes, fingers brushing against rough skin that had once been covered by bandages, but Cloud had never bothered to change them. The burns were visible now, scars. Mako wouldn't heal mako induced burns. Not completely.

"ShinRa medical staff caused it." In the end, that's all Cloud could say, he picked at the edge of his scars before dropping his hands with a sigh. He reached for the bag he'd juryrigged out of his worn uniform jacket, dragging it on top of the bed and pulling out a fistful of crumpled papers. They were what remained of the medical charts he'd taken from Hojo's laboratory. He'd lost a good portion of them to a sudden rainstorm, but it was still something. He thought about just handing them over, to put the future of the strongest man in the world in the hands of the elder of this neutral city. Whether he would turn them in, turn them away, or help, it wouldn't be on Cloud's shoulders any more.

The Nibelheim mission wouldn't happen. In his sleep deprived state he'd asked after the date. He remembered when the Nibelhiem mission had occurred; he'd had the date burned into his memory for years upon years. It had been three days ago.

Intellectually, Cloud realized he'd done what he'd set out to do. He'd removed Sephiroth from Hojo's influence, decapitated the SOLDIER program, and prevented the worst event of his life. His hands clenched at the thought, rough nails biting into sword calloused palms. The papers crumpled further, the sound only a mere blip on his radar-if he'd finished everything, then why did he feel as if he'd accomplished nothing?

"…my boy?"

Bugenhagen's polite inquiry dragged Cloud's wandering mind back to the present. He took a deep, shaking breath, realizing once more how very tired he was. "…sorry."

"There is more to this story, isn't there? Your mind appears to be off in the Northern Crater right now." Bugenhagen chuckled, "Try not to get lost, it is a frightening place."

That comment didn't serve to help much, drawing to mind harsh winds and plummeting colds, clinging to a steep cliff face, squinting through driving snow and praying to all Gaea that the others were doing fine. That Red could hold on, that Yuffie wasn't too light, that Barret could keep steady with just one hand…

Bugenhagen frowned as the SOLDIER—who'd thus far seemed an amiable, if somewhat quiet young man—completely closed off, recognizing the blank face and distant eyes as one who'd traveled far, far away. Flashback maybe.

He decided some jesting was in order. That expression was much too dour looking for such a bright face. Even with the scars he'd glimpsed briefly when pale blonde spikes where brushed aside, the young man just seemed too…young to look so old and worn. "If I do agree to help, I'll be breaking about a dozen patent laws to do more than merely examine him."

Bugenhagen folded his arms into his billowing sleeves, chuckling as that comment banished the distant look and settled into something a little more age appropriate, somewhere between embarrassment and guilt. He decided to head off the guilt, throwing in a "I didn't say I'd agree. But…If you aren't going to go to ShinRa, the only other option is Mideel, on the other side of the world. Transportation aside, you might not even have the time. Even SOLDIERs must eventually run out of stored energy." He sighed, "I must think of the repercussions, but I am not one to turn away such road weary warrior. Please try and relax, shake the dust off a little, oh ho. I'd be glad to do a check up, if it would put your mind at ease. May I?"

The SOLDIER's expression was conflicted, wary, but hopeful all the same, "If ShinRa finds out—"

"I'd never rat out someone concerned for their friend." Buganahagan remarked, tugging lightly on his beard, "A basic examination is well within my rights as a credited medic, treatment on a SOLDIER…now that's where the patent laws come in. The question is whether or not the Canyon can afford to cross ShinRa in this matter. "

Bugenhagen drifted closer as the young man gave in and motioned him over, and relinquished his place at his companion's side. Bugenhagen watched as he slumped onto the second bed in the double room, clenching the disarrayed blankets tightly as he tried to relax—and failed. Bugenhagen quirked an eyebrow, "You are welcome to wander the Canyon while I perform the examination, perhaps I might recommend the use of our wonderful hot springs? Do not take offense, my boy, but you could use a bit of scrubbing down."

Ah, there was the first hint of a smile he'd seen yet on that tired face. "That's…not a bad idea."

"Good, good. The inn provides courtesy towels from the front desk, and they should be able to provide you better directions than my scattered brain could. I can name the stars in the sky, but I have no mind for geography." He chuckled, waving the young man out of the room, "I'll either have someone inform you, or find you myself once I've finished, so enjoy yourself and take your time. Guests have informed me that the views from the terraces are unmatched in their serenity."

After a few more reassurances—he admired how concerned Cloud (whose name he'd just learned) was for his friend—Bugenhagen was able to usher the SOLDIER out of the room and turn his attention to the patient on the bed. First things first he had to see this mysterious friend, that cloak would get in the way of all his diagnostic tests other than perhaps checking his pulse. Once black fabric gave way to silver, Bugenhagen blinked behind his sunglasses and reeled back, taking in flowing silver, and a face even he'd seen on ShinRa propaganda posters, and often enough in the newspaper.

"Well, well." Bugenhagen mused, "Make that a couple hundred laws."

Whatever could have put ShinRa's star SOLDIER in such a state? Especially if Cloud was telling the truth, and it was ShinRa itself that permitted it. He suddenly understood the paranoia now.

-.-

Zack hadn't slept in weeks. Not naturally. Every time he closed his eyes he'd have that damn melody clawing at his brain. He'd managed to drug himself to sleep, but even that wasn't helping anymore. It was just too damn loud. To make matters worse the infirmary refused to let him have a stronger dosage. Lack of sleep left Zack irritated, but he didn't have much energy to do anything other than go to work and then collapse at home.

Zack was heading there now, in fact, doing his best to disguise the weight in his steps and the slump of his shoulders as he passed other SOLDIERS in the halls of the compound. He was their acting commanding officer—he had an image to keep, an example to uphold. Zack didn't like responsibility, but he knew better to shirk it. It was Seph's. He just needed to keep it together until he came back.

Because he would come back. The fact that he'd be listed as a deserter by now if ShinRa wasn't keeping it hush-hush didn't change that.

Zack paused and leaned against the wall. This deserted hallway was as good a place as any to try and clear his head.

"Fair. A moment of your time?"

Zack snapped awake—had he fallen asleep? The ringing in his mind was fading now, and he felt if he could just listen harder, he might be able to finally make out the words…

He shook his head, raking a gloved hand through black spikes, holding the strands away from his face. Not now, Zack. Don't drift like that. He'd been in a haze for so long now…

"…Zack?"

Again with the voice. He knew that voice. And it normally didn't sound like that. Concerned. He jerked his head around, and the haze cleared, "Tseng! Sorry. Sure. I have a moment. To give." He put on his best lopsided grin, "I've been meaning to talk to you anyway." He'd been meaning to do so many things lately—why hadn't he?

The Turk had an odd non-expression that left Zack feeling edgy, but he followed the Tseng's lead when he motioned into one of the darkened offices that lined the hallway. They ducked inside, and Zack took in the space. It was the layout that was standard throughout the building, the same as his—Seph's office, although it had more personality. There were a few knickknacks here and there, a couple pictures that he couldn't make out in the dark, but Zack's eyes were drawn to what looked like a stuffed cat sitting on the corner of the desk. It was kinda cute, black and white patchwork fur, a crown and an easy smile. Next to it was a set of various paraphernalia, all with the seal for Urban Development plastered on it. How did he end up here? That's a few floors down from where he'd stopped.

He turned back to Tseng, unease growing as he realized Tseng was watching him again. "Tseng? What'd you want?"

"You look tired." Tseng expression didn't change, and his voice sounded off, as if merely making an observation of the weather. Which was strange enough as it was. Tseng was not known for small talk. In fact, he was known to avoid casual conversation.

Zack forced himself to keep up a smile, "It's nothing. I just haven't been getting much sleep. You know how it is."

"No. I don't think I do." The Turk moved, and Zack noticed Tseng had been carrying a set of folders the whole time. How had he not noticed? A Turk with a folder. The dread began gnawing at his insides. Last time that happened it didn't go very well.

"This…problem." Problem was a good word for it, "As working director of SOLDIER, are you aware that it is not an isolated case?" Zack blinked, tilting his head owlishly. Tseng just gave him another look, "Of course not." He cracked the folder open, "I took the liberty of pulling the infirmary records for the past month. 27% of the Third Class SOLDIERS sought medical help, and a good 40% of them showing the same signs. Distraction, fatigue, daytime sleepiness, and excessive clumsiness—are these sounding familiar?" He flipped to the next page, "46% of the Seconds also sought medical means in order to sleep during the same time period. The most worrisome of these figures pertains to the First Class SOLDIERS." Tseng looked away from the printed sheets, and Zack found himself pinned under that piercing stare, "ALL of them have requested sleeping medication. In the last week, 90% of them requested a stronger dosage."

Zack remained silent as Tseng placed the folder down on the desk, pressing some invisible wrinkles out of his suit, "Tell me Zack," the words hung in the air for a moment, "Do you hear singing?"

The SOLDIER sighed, shoulders slumping. He hadn't told anyone. Not even the doctor. Why would he? It was insane! He bit his lip, all too aware that Tseng was watching him intently.

"Yes."

"Then this is no longer classified."

Tseng waited for Zack to finish sputtering incoherently and leveled him a flat stare, one that Zack read as 'Don't give me that look, Fair.'

"This information would normally be well beyond your clearance, even at your current rank. However, the professor's pet project is now compromising the company's safety by compromising the SOLDIERs themselves. Do you understand me, Fair?" Tseng didn't wait for a confirmation, moving along in his normal businesslike manner, "A substance known as J-cells are commonly used in the process used to create a SOLDIER. It streamlines the physical changes mostly, coaxing the body to accept the mako more efficiently. There is a mental aspect to this as well, tweaking the mind in order to handle the reflexes, and senses of an enhanced SOLDIER. The professor has determined that the singing is a resonance of the J-cells used in the SOLDIER creation process, as a result of some phenomenon he terms 'The Reunion.'"

Zack listened—trying very very hard to keep his mind on Tseng's words. This was important, he knew—but as Tseng's briefing got more and more detailed he was finding it harder and harder to focus on it. In the end, he didn't really care what was causing the singing. He just needed it to stop. He told as much to Tseng, when the Turk took a pause to judge Zack's reaction.

"The professor claims that this is a short-lived phenomenon, and should die out within another week. Possibly two. However, until then there are methods I would like you to pass along to the First Classes, and those of the seconds with the worst conditions. Physical exertion to the point of exhaustion should allow for undisturbed sleep, as would the use of Sleep materia. Casting Wall before retiring should give some reprieve for so long as the spell lasts, but not the entire night. I would suggest consulting Valentine about this matter as well. Given his background, he should have some experience with mental intrusions."

That thought flickered through the fog, but didn't slip out again afterward. "Valentine?" Zack asked hesitantly, rubbing his forehead with his palm as if trying to stimulate the memory. Tseng spoke as if Zack was familiar with this person, but he didn't know anyone whom Tseng would know. Only… "Vincent…?" But Vincent hated ShinRa.

Tseng sighed. "Fair, I am going to suggest something off the record, and I would like you to consider it well. Go to Sector Six tonight. Stay with Valentine. Tell him to cast Sleep and keep a Wall up all night. He can wake you up, and survive any instinctual retaliation that may come. Then ask him about Chaos in the morning, after you've managed to screw your head back on."

He paused. Eyeing Zack, who had ended up leaning against the wall, head falling and then jerking back up occasionally, Tseng made a decision. He grabbed the SOLDIER securely, leading him out of the office, "Come."

Zack couldn't even bring himself to protest.

-.-

It hadn't taken long for Cloud to notice his tail. He'd been restless over the course of the last day and wandered the canyon. He hadn't been able to properly explore it on his only visit here; it'd just been a stopping point on the way from Nibelheim to Midgar all those years ago. Of course he remembered another few visits. The Gi Caves. AVALANCHE around the fire. But those hadn't actually happened. He itched at the healed burns underneath the clean bandages that had been thoughtfully provided for him and looked out over the sunset colored stone that made up Cosmo Canyon. Something was wrong.

He'd returned to his rooms to find Sephiroth had been moved, a note left behind telling him that Bugenhagen had relocated to his normal chambers, since that was where his diagnostic equipment was. It made Cloud anxious to have Sephiroth out of his sight, but in the end hadn't gone storming after them to hover like a helicopter. It wasn't like he could do anything, and he didn't fear Bugenhagen would be calling ShinRa. His time was far better spent stalking about the canyon, attempting to burn off the nervous energy buzzing through his body.

Of course his wanderings had drawn attention. Most of the residents just gave him curious looks, but no more. One, however, was a little more interested than that. And it wasn't helping his nerves.

"Red, could you not stalk me right now? It isn't the best time." He said, almost without thinking. He heard the startled shift somewhere at his back. Four paws scrabbled uncertainly, and a glance showed the wolfcat hunching further into his shadowed alcove in the canyon wall. Cloud had always been impressed with Red's ability to hide, especially with that flaming tail of his. "My nerves can't handle it. So just come on out. I promise I won't tell your Grandfather I caught you."

Hesitantly, the wolfcat emerged from the alcove. Cloud half turned, leaning against the railing running along the edge of the plateau. All in all, Red didn't look that different. He'd been a long-lived species, Cloud recalled, so he likely hadn't changed much in the five years between now and…what might have been. Cloud was a little surprised to see two golden eyes staring out at him, but he'd always wondered if the scar that had cost red his left eye had been the result of his stay with Hojo.

No…he'd never wondered. Someone else had. He shook his head. He wondered if he would ever be able to properly differentiate between the two.

Cloud paused, realizing what had been bothering him so much.

He hadn't dreamed last night.

That disturbing line of thought was shoved to the back of his mind when Red spoke slowly, "You aren't surprised?"

"No." And how was he supposed to explain this? He turned back out to overlook the canyon again, crossing his arms on the cold railing. He took a moment for formulate the explanation, decided truth was better than not. Red had always been perceptive. "I've meet one of your kind. A long…long time ago."

The wolfcat huffed at the answer, padding cautiously over to Cloud's side. A glance down informed Cloud that the answer had meant more to the cat than he'd even guessed. His species had always been a sore point for him. Mother dead. Father gone. Red was the only one left, as far as he knew.

"Grandfather did say there were others out there." Red didn't take those gold eyes off Cloud, even if he had to perpetually look up to keep him completely in sight, "Could you…remember where?"

Cloud shook his head ruefully, "We traveled together for a time. He never did say where he was going."

Red accepted this, tail flicking absently against the stone floor. Cloud watched in amusement as it passed over a scraggly piece of weed reaching up from a crack in the smooth stone, half expecting it to catch fire.

"Are you really a SOLDIER?"

"I was." And that was all Cloud would say on the matter. Red also accepted that. Cloud remembered how the wolfcat had been when they first met, and decided Hojo's ministrations hadn't really changed him all that much.

They sat in silence for a while as the sun sunk slowly toward the horizon, Red's tail flicking idly to the tune Cloud was tapping lightly against the metal.

"I've always wanted to travel." Red said wistfully, "I've never been beyond the canyon."

"Someday you will." Cloud promised. He only hoped the journey would be a better one this time. "I'd stay away from Midgar, though."

Red raised an eyebrow while Cloud grimaced at the memory, "Most of the people are nice enough, but it's not a very pleasant city. Mako harvesting has killed nearly everything for miles around."

It could have been the fading light, but Red's eyes seemed to darken at the mention of mako extraction. Given where he was, Cloud wasn't surprised. Deciding to drop the topic he suddenly turned fully toward Red, "My name is Cloud."

"Nanaki." Came only moments later. With another person, there would be handshakes now. They didn't need them. Cloud motioned toward the lit corridor, shining as the sun sunk behind the canyon walls, "Shall we go inside?"

And so they did. Cloud led the wolfcat back to the inn, once again ignoring the startled looks on the residents' faces as Nanaki padded along behind him. He knew they weren't used to Nanaki revealing himself to outsiders.

There they talked quietly for a while, Cloud reveling in just being able to sit down and have a conversation with another being. He didn't have a mission pressing, he wasn't on the road, carting around an unconscious general who would get them both captured, and him likely killed if recognized. He didn't even have the pressing weight of the Nibelheim mission on his shoulders either. His lack of dreams still unnerved him, but he was able to ignore it. Red—no, Nanaki, he reminded himself—was quite interested in Cloud's travels. Cloud tried to keep his stories involving the places he'd gone during his years with ShinRa, but occasionally he slipped up and a tidbit from his dreams snuck in. Nanaki didn't seem to notice, of course. He even seemed quite amused at Cloud's retelling of the chaotic snowboard ride down a mountainside, and of the area surrounding his crash site.

At length he got Nanaki talking about the Canyon. About the Lifestream. About Planet Sciences. He listened intently as the wolfcat hesitantly began, growing more confident as Cloud actually seemed to be interested in the subject. Cloud had the feeling Nanaki hadn't ever had an eager listener before. Everyone who knew of him usually studied the same things, and those who didn't were outsiders, whom he rarely spoke to.

Cloud merely listened for a while, until Nanaki said something that really caught his attention, "Wait. What was that about dreams?"

Nanaki paused, surprised at the interruption. He was curled up on a rug, across from Cloud who was resting his back against the side of the bed, also on the floor to put him on the same level as Nanaki, "Nothing concrete. It isn't a very well explored area, not like the effects of Mako Harvesting. However, there are a few people studying dreams, and one of the popular theories is that they are a result of a residual connection to the Lifestream. It is theorized that the walls surrounding that connection, our conscious thoughts, our sense of self, is lowered when we sleep, allowing bits and pieces of the Lifestream through. The Lifestream, we know, is made up of the remnants of souls, and memories that we leave behind when we die. Dreams, we believe, occur when those pieces of memories slip into the unconscious mind, which fit them together to create our own unique dreams."

Cloud frowned. It sounded plausible for how most people dreamed. But it didn't fit his own circumstances. His dreams were too consistent, too vivid to be the result of his brain trying to piece together random, foreign bits of information. Not to mention the fact that they spoke the truth, even if he ignored the events. Places. People. Information. He'd double and triple checked much, finding matches in places he'd never been outside his dreams. In people he'd never known, but ended up knowing so well. "This…connection. Does that mean people without it don't dream?"

Nanaki chuckled, crossing his paws, "Were you not paying attention? Planet sciences teach that all life comes from the Lifestream, lives, and then dies, returning to the main flow. That act of filling, and then draining, implies that all life has a constant connection, even if it is small. There was once a race who had a very close connection to the Lifestream, who could speak to the Planet and have it answer back, but as far as we are aware, the Cetra died out long ago." He said that last bit with regret. Cloud bit his lip to prevent himself from saying anything. He shouldn't know anything. Aeris had never come straight out and said anything. Although he suspected she thought he was an Ancient, as well. At length, Nanaki continued, "Anyway. Everyone is connected. Some people have stronger connections, and the strength of these connections are theorized to effect many aspects, from innate ability with materia, to the lucidity of dreams. Exposure to refined mako is said to strengthen the connection some, which is why SOLDIERs tend to have a higher range of skills with spells. Unrefined Lifestream however…is the only real evidence we have supporting this theory."

Cloud leaned in, tensing slightly, "Is it because…many people never wake up?"

Nanaki nodded slightly. It wasn't even a nod really, just an inclination of his muzzle. "Very few wake up after coming in to contact with the Lifestream, locked in what we can only assume to be never ending dreams. Those who do wake never speak of it. We had one pass through the canyon a few years back, and he feared falling asleep."

Cloud let the conversation drift away from that, it was hitting a little too close to home. He was lost in thought when he felt something cold against his hand. His eyes cleared only to find Nanaki's face looking up at him. The wolfcat had scooted closer, nudging Cloud's limp hand with his nose. "You look far away. Be careful or you may get lost."

Cloud couldn't help the quiet chuckle. "Your Grandfather told me something similar." He raked his hand through his hair, noting Nanaki's flinch as the motion pushed his hair away from his face. He felt that his bandages had shifted, and knew his scars were likely visible, burns disappearing into his too-light hair. He sighed, wondering if the color would ever be right again. Everything had gotten better after the first time. But that hadn't been refined mako.

"When I was young…I fell in to a natural spring. In the Nibelheim mountains." It felt weird to speak of. He never had before. His mother had been there after it happened. He didn't need to tell her. He didn't wake Vincent up until after he'd come to terms with it. After that, there'd been no need to tell anyone.

"Is that where…" Nanaki's eyes flicked to his face again.

Cloud shook his head, "Three weeks ago. Almost a fall into a reactor. I caught myself. Barely." He resisted the urge to pick at the scars again. They bothered him. "There is a difference, you know. Between refined and unrefined. You still keep yourself with refined mako. It changes your body. It burns. But it doesn't destroy your sense of self. Lifestream…" He let the word trail off, hanging in the air. He didn't know why he was talking about this. Maybe it was the way Red was looking at him, silently, patiently, head now resting on Cloud's knee. Red always seemed to be easy to talk to. He just listened. And he was the closest thing to an expert on Lifestream that Cloud trusted. Even if he'd technically just met Nanaki. He knew Red. In the way he'd known Vincent. Zack. Aeris.

"Lifestream just washes you away. You are a single water droplet in a river. It absorbs you. Mixing you up in that same roiling flow. If you are lucky, it spits you out again. But it might not be all you were. You may never be you again." Had he ever truly been Cloud? He'd had that other self—those memories that weren't. The dreams—as long as he could remember. They'd been there, influencing him. It traumatized a child to see his village burning every night. To know without a doubt that his mother was dead. Everyone was dead. Because he'd been there. They all thought it was an accident. Just nightmares. He'd had no lasting, visible effects from his swim, not like his scars now. Except the dreams.

It had been both elating and terrifying to find Vincent in the mansion. On the one hand, he wasn't crazy. On the other—it was true. They would die. They would all die. It would happen.

Except he'd beaten it. Sephiroth would never go on the Nibelheim mission. Vincent would keep Aeris from Hojo. Zack wouldn't end up in Hojo's clutches. Cloud would never get Zack killed.

Meteor wouldn't be disturbed. Holy wouldn't have to be summoned.

He didn't know when his fingers had gotten into Red's mane, but the wolfcat didn't say anything. They just sat there, long in to the night.

When he finally fell asleep, he didn't dream.

A/N: I liiiiiive!

I seem to be saying that a lot.

I've been sitting on half this chapter for months now, but a certain IRL friend is completely responsible for kicking my inspiration into gear. I ended up writing the last 2k words or so at work x.x But at least it's done now. Sephiroth should be waking up next chapter –I'm sure a couple people are annoyed at how long it took ;;