―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Cloud fisted his hand into his hair and screamed through his teeth into the pillow he had propped up on his knees to muffle the sounds of his grief as his world, once again, shattered all around him.

You got complacent. His mind whispered sinisterly. The words tearing through his scabbed over mental wounds mercilessly, leaving agony and listlessness in their wake. Again. Isn't that how you got your squad killed, Cloud? Che. Stupid boy. Always stupid, always too late. You never learn. You'll never walk in the light because you are unworthy. The world doesn't need a screw up. Like. You. You really thought you could change? Be better? Be worth something?

Fresh sobs tore their way out of Cloud's throat and he drew his knees even closer, his spine bending unpleasantly as he tried to meld with the metal frame of his bed.

You can't even take comfort in the thought of dying, can you Cloud? Cloud's inner nemesis- his bane- reminded him snidely, the words impacting with all the force of a Behemoth on the bleeding wounds of his psyche. The graceless truth twisting the ache even deeper into Cloud as all of his failures flashed through his mind's eye. After all, then you'd have to face them. Face the squad mates you got killed.

(His father leaving. His Ma's suffering. Tifa's injury. His failure to make SOLDIER. His failure to do anything worthwhile while his squad mates protected him.

And-)

Face the Strifes that have come before you and be stripped of your very name for being such a fuck-up. After all, don't Strifes overcome? You must have been something else if your own father left your Ma because he couldn't stand to have such a screw up for a son- because your Ma is perfect. Heh. What a waste of space you are, Cloud. Maybe the Lifestream won't even bother to take you when the time comes. Could you blame them? You'd bring down everyone else with your worthlessness invading their peaceful afterlife.

And on and on and on. His inner nemesis could go on for days; such was the legacy of failure known as Cloud Strife.

Cloud hiccupped wetly and reached for the comforting weight of Jonesy's trench knives, wondering if the Lifestream- or nothingness, as would most likely be his fate- would really be all that bad. Would he float about as a spirit, watching as everyone went on without him?

(Could he stand watching how unnecessary his existence had been? To see how much better the world was without him in it?)

Cloud's eyes burned, his throat ached, and his body trembled as he lost himself in an endless loop of self-loathing. As masochistic as it sounded, listening to his inner voice recite a constant litany of his familiar failures was much preferable to thinking about the present about-

No.

(Earthy-toned brown hair, bright- nearly kaleidoscopic- green eyes, and an impish, yet compassionate smile. Flowers. Flowers in Midgar. A church; a building with elegant columns, breathtaking stained glass windows- somehow intact, even after all these years- and little side rooms. One of which held a makeshift table with mostly finished plans for a Flower Playground . And yet another small side room that was filled with pillows, blankets, and a small fan. A refuge, a place where Cloud could be the fierce predator he dreamt of being as he kept her safe while she dreamed; her brown hair tickled his nose most days, as she sprawled across him out across his chest. Clinging to him as if he wasn't broken, as if he wasn't useless, as if he did not infect every good thing in his life with his very existence.)

Nononononono- stop it stop it stopitstopit-

The keening sound that emanated from his chest was a broken, pathetic whine that spoke of loss. Of a soul-deep ache that would never mend; of a wound that would be left to fester and rot. Heartbreak so complete that the scattered splinters would never be found, for they were too fine, too unimportant, too serrated to amount to anything more than a fine powder. A powder so easily swept away by the indifferent winds of time.

Cloud felt as if he had been weeping for a millennia and yet the tears still flowed freely, wetting his pillow with the remains of broken dreams as he hacked and coughed and vomited all manner of bodily fluids into his bedside trashcan. He was so far beyond exhausted he felt like he might actually die if he did not rest soon, but feared sleep nearly as much as he feared death at the moment. Stuck in a terrible sort of limbo only there was no-

Fresh grief bubbled up to the surface in his chest and new tears- blistering, bitter, fury filled ones- spilled over from his swollen, stinging eyes as the knowledge that she was gone sank in.

Oh, she was still physically there he knew, but she was gone all the same.

He should have known better.

Cloud distantly heard the door open, but he kept his face buried in the pillow on his knees, his last fit of gagging having finally subsided. Footsteps he did not recognize padded closer, but Cloud was thoroughly defeated.

What was the worst they could do- kill him?

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Elmyra Gainsborough was a mother, first and foremost. Aerith might not been the daughter of her body, but the little girl was certainly the child of Elmyra's heart; of her very soul.

Elmyra did not care much for those SOLDIERs Aerith had befriended- the ones who had crashed through the roof of her church during the attack that AVALANCHE launched on Midgar about a year and half ago- but the men had defended Aerith when the AVALANCHE leaders had come after Elmyra's baby girl. So the mother grit her teeth and bore their sporadic presence.

Cloud Strife, however…..

In many ways, Cloud reminded Elmyra of her late husband. Not in terms of physical appearance- because her husband had been a burly, tall brunet man with chocolate colored eyes and the sort of beard that suggested a life of rugged pursuits- but in soul. Grant- like Cloud- held very few people close to him, but those that fell under his protection had held his utter devotion.

Grant and Elmyra were among the last generation of children who lived in what was once the beautiful Valley of Kings, before the Plate had been built and the land started to wither. Elmyra could remember running thought the grassy hills as a child, picking pears off the trees and taking them back to her Mama to make preserves or pies out of them.

Of course, she also remembered the rapid urbanization of the Valley and all the workers who flocked to it, including the parents of Grant's best friend, Kosei Tanaka. Kosei's parents had fled Wutai due to their relationship being grounds for death- she was a noble woman and the boy had been born to a poor, disgraced family or something close to that- and had ended up in Midgar. About a year or so before the Wutai War broke out into a full-scale war, assassins sent by Wutai finally caught up to the Tanaka family.

Grant had been the one to find his best friend. Well, Kosei and his entire family, actually.

The reason Grant had known the family's past had caught up with them was how they were killed. The parents had been beheaded, their heads mounted on short, decorative poles that were driven into the floor in front of the headless bodies. The others- Kosei's sister and her family, as well as Kosei and his pregnant wife- had been murdered as well, though they had been killed with a single strike to the spinal column; their knees tied together so their death throes did not leave them splayed out in an undignified position. As far as Elmyra knew, the method used on the parents had been par for the course for someone who had committed a 'grave' offense, while the others had been killed as well due to being, 'abominations', meaning that their lives were an affront to the Emperor as they should not exist by Wutai's laws. Considering that Kosei's parents had told them that Wutai believed that the Royal House was descended from the mighty Leviathan and Wutai's laws were considered to be 'the Will of the Emperor', ergo to scorn the laws was to scorn the Emperor, and through him, the great guardian spirit Leviathan.

Elmyra could sort of see the connecting line of thought in their actions, even if she, herself, found them reprehensible.

It was the deaths of the Tanaka family that had caused her Grant to join the Shinra Infantry, her beloved wanting to fight for the rights of families like the Tanakas to live in peace. Grant hadn't wanted to change Wutai so much as make the families who had escaped safe from retribution- because, really, who in Wutai had the Tanakas been harming?

Grant had come back a few times, with eyes haunted as Cloud's were, and so Elmyra had learned about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and all the other laundry lists of things that could affect soldiers in order to better support her husband.

It was the knowledge she had gleaned in order to help Grant that had helped her raise a little girl who had been born in a steel cage. Elmyra was fiercely proud of her Aerith, and even more proud of how kind her girl had come to be as she grew from that scared little girl into a beautiful young woman.

Truthfully, Cloud Strife was the best thing that had ever happened to Aerith and Elmyra was more than happy to drag the two of them home for supper whenever they lost track of time at the church. While Elmyra would be extremely worried for Aerith under normal circumstance, Elmyra saw how much Cloud loved the bright young woman every time he looked at her. Elmyra rather wistfully wished that a romantic relationship between the two would develop, but at least she could rest a little easier knowing that whomever wanted to attempt to romance Aerith would have to get through Cloud first. The sneaky mother had even gotten a rather adorable picture of her Aerith snuggled up to the blond man and the fierce look Cloud had given the camera- even though Elmyra had made certain to knock and announce herself well beforehand- still made Elmyra smile every time she laid eyes on it.

The picture sat on her bedside table, so she saw it at least twice a day.

So when Aerith came home in tears, babbling nearly nonsensically about Cloud, SOLDIERs, Turks and how Cloud had shut her out, Elmyra decided it was time to be a bit more proactive.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Feel free to leave me a note on your way out~!

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――