Tap. Tap.

Weightless.

As Cloud comes to slowly, that's all he can focus on. The feeling of weightlessness. Or at least that's the only word he can think of to describe this strange floating sensation. Had he risen to Butch's baiting again? Insisted that he really could swim all the way to Corel? Not because he actually thought he could, but to show Butch up, to impress Tifa? Had he waded out into the river when the adults weren't looking? Well… when his mom wasn't looking – the other adults couldn't care less what happened to him. Only problem is he doesn't actually know how to swim. That should bother him. Probably.

His mom had told him not to listen to the other kid. Begged him not to. Said Butch was nothing more than a bully. Cloud wasn't a coward, though. Well, that's what he always told Butch and his friends anyway. He never had learned how to back down when the other kids mocked him in front of Tifa.

So, this is it. He's drowning.

Except it doesn't feel like he's drowning - he certainly had had a near-intimate experience with that. Sure, he can't breathe, but his lungs aren't on fire. He's not choking on water. Panic's not ripping through him, leaving him a pathetic, thrashing mess, as Butch laughs from the shoreline. Instead, he's eerily calm.

Tap. Tap.

"Do you think it's dead?"

Maybe he wasn't drowning. Maybe he was already dead. Gone past the point of no return. That would explain why he couldn't feel his body any more. Couldn't lift a leg, twitch a finger, move a muscle. Couldn't open his eyes to figure out where on Gaia he actually was. Perhaps he was already in the Lifestream. He just never imagined that it would smell so much like mint and sterilizer.

He should have told his mother he loved her. How much she meant to him. And apologized for being such a burden. Apologized for making her cry. He knows she'll miss him. Part of him hopes Tifa will, too. But they're better off without him. He only ever caused them trouble. He couldn't stop getting into fights for his mom. And he certainly couldn't save Tifa from that fall.

So, he's dead. It should bother him more than it does. Probably. He doesn't actually want to be dead, but maybe it'll be easier. If he always felt this mindless, maybe death wouldn't be so bad. He wouldn't have to worry about his bullies anymore, at least.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sharper, more insistent tapping has his blood turning to ice. He has no idea why, though. He feels like the flashes of blinding white light, restraints jury-rigged to fit small wrists, and lab coats should mean something to him. They don't. But that doesn't stop the fear from rising in his chest. So much for being mindless.

"Wake up, Subject C."

The urge to throw up washes over him as fear turns to all-consuming dread. He knows that voice. Can almost hear the ridicule as his insides burn white-hot, the smell of mint overwhelmingly noxious – "Why did you go after my greatest creation if you can't even handle a little mako?". Can almost make out the cackling as he writhes against restraints, no relief from the pain tearing through his body.

He knows the voice. But, at the same time, he doesn't. Feels like he should remember the man – the demon something inside him says – but… he doesn't. His mind can almost conjure up stringy black hair and round, tinted glasses, but the face remains a mystery to him, hidden behind a veil of haze and fog.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Open your eyes, Subject C."

Even in his state of forgetfulness, he's certain that he wants nothing to do with the creep. He tries to squeeze his eyes shut tighter in an act of defiance. Maybe if he doesn't listen, if he doesn't discover what's on the other side of his eyelids, he won't have to find out whether his visions were just that or if they were his new living nightmare. Won't discover if the real pain measures up to the imagined.

Except he doesn't get the chance to be defiant, his mind and body no longer acting in tandem. As if he were a dog trained to obey its master's every whim, his eyes sluggishly peel themselves open. Entirely against his will. The green, luminescent liquid just on the other side of his closed-eyed void should bother him more than it does. And the glass tank he finds himself floating in should feel less familiar than it does. Should be more disconcerting than it is.

So, he isn't dead after all. And he isn't drowning – the bubbling, green-white liquid keeping him in an oxygen-less stasis. But where was he? How had he gotten there?

Sephiroth!

A nauseating mix of hatred, grief, and terror crash into him with the force of a Grand Horn at the thought of the man. Sephiroth had…! He had… What had he done again? The ache in his chest turns to absolute agony, something cold and entirely metal lodged firmly in his abdomen as he tries to remember, tries to lift the fog from his mind. He has to remember. He has to, right? He promised himself he wouldn't forget, but…

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Look at me, Subject C."

His head feels leaden as his body once more struggles to obey. Inch by agonizing inch his head lifts, eyes fighting the urge to slip shut again. He's just able to make out a bony finger poised to rap against glass when he feels the bounce as his head lolls forward, body somehow still upright.

"Deteriorating response time. Complete lack of focus. Inability to follow even the simplest of orders." There's a disgruntled sigh as Cloud's vision starts to turn black around the edges. "Acute mako poisoning. It would seem that Subject C is a failure, too." Failure? He could have told him that… He was… always… a failure…

Slap.

Fuzzy hands enter his blackening vision, the monster in a lab coat seemingly pressed up against the glass. But the loud noise and closer proximity aren't enough to pull him from the fog, his eyes unable to do more than blink lazily in response. "What a shame! You would have made the perfect plaything for my son!" The mocking tone turns to jeering laughter as Cloud's eyes slip shut of their own accord. "Imagine the irony! His would-be murderer turned obedient pet!"

As his consciousness fades and fuzzy static overtakes his mind, a new yet familiar voice reverberates throughout his entire being. A voice that he knows should raise his hackles, but instead just makes him want to drop to his knees in supplication. To beg the owner – his owner? – for forgiveness.

Be a good little puppet for me, Cloud.

.

.

.

When the static lifts and he manages to pry open his eyelids again, he's once more met with green. But not the glowing, green-white of the tank. Instead, it's a dark, deep green. A disconnected green interspersed with brown and blue. A forest. He's in a forest. Just how long had he been out for?

"And get this, Spike!" Cloud's gasp remains bottled up within his chest, his head not turning the way he wants it to, not turning at all. That was Zack's voice! He's here, too? Cloud's body might still be frustratingly immobile, but the teen's presence would explain the deep sense of calm and rightness he feels. "I thought I was sooo badass making those monsters flee without any of my equipment, like real 1st Class material, only to realize that the buggers had run off with my clothes!"

Cloud wants to laugh with his friend, he really does. But while he feels the desire bubble up within the pit of his stomach, his mouth remains firmly and irritatingly closed. He really hopes the other teen knows he's listening, that he's paying attention. Hopes that the other isn't disappointed with his lack of response.

If Zack is disappointed, he doesn't let on, continuing his story with the same effortless, unaffected humor. "And let me tell you, returning to the Tower in just my boxers – not as awkward as I thought it would be… But then I ran into Angeal." Cloud knows that a gasp would be appropriate here, recognizes the pause in the other's story for what it is. He honestly does try to. But his body still hasn't relinquished its newfound autonomy. He doesn't know why, though. It certainly isn't doing a better job than he would – and he wasn't that good at controlling himself in the first place. "Let's just say he was not impressed with me that day. Got one of his famous lectures. Something about SOLDIER honor and having to set a good example."

Zack ends his story with a wistful sigh and then the entirely one-sided conversation – not from lack of trying on Cloud's part – lapses into a silence that is contradictorily equal parts awkward and comfortable. The static has just started to crawl up again when a gloved hand enters his vision. As the hand ruffles his hair, Zack finally comes within view – and, oh, how Cloud had missed his face. "Miss you, buddy. Wish you were awake."

Awake? What is Zack talking about? He is awake! He just can't move, that's all… Before he can try to convince the teen – the man? – that he really is awake (and listening), before he can do more than blink in protest – he really needs a better form of communication – his eyelids close, the blackness setting in anew.

.

.

.

Static clearing once more, Cloud lets out a frustrated groan when he realizes he still can't move. Wait. He had groaned… That's new. Barely breathing with the hope coursing through him, he almost cries when he discovers that he can wiggle his toes and fingers, too. Finally. Now, if only he could figure out why the rest of him feels so heavy.

Blinking his eyes open – thankfully with zero difficulty this time – he freezes, heat rushing to his face, when he realizes the position that he's in. With the help of the morning light peeking in through the windows, he can tell that he's pressed to a muscular chest – Zack's muscular chest. Squeaking, he tries to pull away, but the arms around him tighten in protest. Well, no wonder he couldn't move.

There's a soft sigh from behind him, and that's when he realizes there's a third arm around him. Was that Aerith? Just what on Gaia had happened? Had he been cocooned between them the entire night? Before he can rack his brain for answers or, more importantly, determine the least embarrassing way out of this situation, Zack's eyes flutter open, smile groggy. "Heya, Spike."

If the sweet "Morning, Cloud" is anything to go by, then Aerith is awake, too. Neither teen moves to let him go, though, and before he can stop himself, he grouches out through his embarrassment, "If anybody makes a comment about a Chocobo sandwich, I'm leaving."

Aerith giggles as she removes her arm, patting his side twice before letting go fully. Zack, on the other hand, dissolves into a fit of laughter, arms still wrapped around him. When the teen finally composes himself, he gives Cloud one last squeeze before letting go, eyes shining with mirth. "Sorry, Cloudy. Guess I'm clingy in my sleep." Sitting up, Zack rubs the sleep from his eyes as he asks, "Have a good dream, buddy?"

Humming in thought, Cloud sits up and eyes the blankets and pillows they'd grabbed to create their makeshift bedding as he considers his answer. "Not really. It was kinda weird, actually. I couldn't move at all."

Zack chuckles awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry about that, Spike. I think that was my fault for clinging to you like an octopus."

"That wasn't the really weird part, though." Cloud shakes his head. "The really weird part was that I was floating in this glowing, green liquid." He writes off the choked look on the teen's face as surprise as he continues his tale. "Then there was this creepy guy in a lab coat who was disappointed that he couldn't turn me into a plaything for his son. Something about mako poisoning, I think…" Cloud drops his gaze to his lap as Zack's look turns horrified. Maybe he shouldn't have told him after all. He doesn't dare look to Aerith. "Told you it was weird…" He finishes lamely, voice soft.

Zack's broken "Spikey…" goes unanswered as a hand lands on Cloud's shoulder, shocking him out of his self-consciousness. Turning to Aerith, he finds a sad smile on her face. "That sounds like a really scary dream."

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Cloud nods. "It was. I couldn't make out the man's face, but I just knew that I should be afraid of him. And…" Cloud chokes, remembering the pain. "I j-just… I just knew that he had hurt me. I felt like there had been so much pain…" Taking a deep breath to calm his racing nerves, he returns his attention to Zack and offers the still miserable-looking teen a small smile. "It wasn't all that bad, though. I dreamt about you, too, Zack."

"Y-yeah?"

"Yeah. We were in a forest somewhere. I still couldn't move, but I just knew I was safe cause you were there." Cloud smiles at the memory. Even in his dreams, Zack was still looking out for him. "It was strange, though. You looked a lot older in my dream and you had a scar on your cheek," he says, tapping his own in emphasis. "I think you were carrying Commander Hewley's sword, too. Oh! And you were telling me the most ridiculous story."

Zack swallows audibly – his eyes are still shining, but there's a tenderness to them now, too. "I-I was, buddy?"

"Yeah, you were. And I really wanted to laugh with you, too. Or do something – anything – to let you know that I was actually listening, but I couldn't. Couldn't move anything. It was seriously frustrating." Cloud rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. He's not sure Zack will appreciate what his mind had conjured up, but he's in too deep now. At least that part of the dream was better than the beginning. "But anyway, you… Well, the dream-you mentioned something about having to return to the Tower in just his boxers cause monsters had stolen his clothes. Said that it wasn't as awkward as he thought it would be, but then he ran into Commander Hewley."

There's a poorly disguised snort from behind him, but his attention is much too focused on Zack. Zack who is staring back at him, eyes wide and awe etched all across his face. The teen lets out a choked laugh and when he speaks, his voice is higher-pitched than Cloud is used to. "That definitely sounds like me! You know me so well, bud!" Zack sniffs, rubbing his eyes for good measure, and then between one breath and another has pulled Cloud into a tight hug, arms wrapped protectively around him. "I'm so glad you're awake, buddy."

"Huh?" Dream-Zack had mentioned something similar, hadn't he? Something about wishing he was awake, right?

"I'm glad you're not mako-poisoned anymore… Or with that creep in a lab coat." Zack clings to him tighter, one hand clutching his shoulder, face pressed to his chest.

"Oh? Yeah, me too. But it was just a dream, Zack," he mumbles into the teen's hair, hand coming up to pat his friend's back as he kneels over him awkwardly – he didn't think his dream would affect the other so much. "Are you ok, dude? You're acting kinda weird."

Zacks nods a little more forcefully than necessary, his hair tickling Cloud's face. "Of course I'm ok. That's just a really scary dream you had." Leaning back, there's a reverent smile on Zack's face as he stares up at Cloud. "Don't worry, Spike. I will always protect you." A hand comes up to cup Cloud's shocked face, thumb caressing his cheek.

"Z-Zack?" Heart beating out of his chest, when Cloud finally notices the compromising position the two are in, his face turns a remarkable shade of beet red. Once more, he finds himself basically straddling the teen, legs framing one of Zack's own, the other teen's arm still wrapped snuggly around his waist, Cloud's borrowed shirt hanging loose off of one shoulder.

"Cloud…" Zack says, breathless, gaze flickering to Cloud's lips. When his eyes return to Cloud's own, there's something of a silent question hidden on his face. Cloud's far too stunned to be of any help, but Zack still must find what he's looking for, the hand on Cloud's cheek curving around to the back of his head, gentle pressure guiding him down.

Cloud knows what's about to happen, his mom had watched enough rom-coms for him to be sure of it, but he just never imagined it would happen to him. And he certainly never planned on being the 'girl' in this situation. Wait. Girl… They shouldn't be doing this. "Aerith…"

Zack shoots back immediately, falling away from Cloud as if burned. Half-sprawled on the floor, he turns wide eyes to his girlfriend, who had been curiously silent throughout the whole thing. "Aerith? I…"

"Oh, please don't stop on my account." The look on Aerith's face can't be classified as anything less than entertained as she sits crossed-legged on the blankets watching them, head propped in her hands, elbows cushioned on the fabric of her pajama pants. "I'm enjoying the show."

Cloud's sure he's going to cry – or throw up – at the realization of what they had almost done. What he had almost done. Aerith doesn't look upset at all, in fact she looks rather tickled, but how could she forgive him for nearly pawing at her boyfriend? Aerith and Zack were two of the best friends – only friends – he had ever had and he had just completely ruined everything. "A-Aerith…"

Aerith sighs. "None of that, ok?" Not waiting for a response, she crawls over, plopping down in front of him and cradling his hands in hers once more. "I'm not mad. I already told Zack that I'm interested in you joining us."

Blinking dumbly as the words process, when his mind finally catches up, Cloud's mouth drops open in surprise. "J-Join you?"

"As our boyfriend, silly." There's no deceit on her face and when Cloud turns to Zack, all he finds there is the hint of a dopey smile. They were serious – but how? He hadn't known them that long. Was the way to a girl's heart just by wearing the Chocobo-print boxers that she bought him? "I was planning to wait a little longer before asking, but nobody's accused Zack of being patient."

"Hey!" Zack protests, but Aerith only sticks her tongue out at him in response.

Twinkling green eyes turning back to him, Aerith smiles at him. "You don't need to respond right now, but think about it, ok? We'd be happy to have you."

This is everything he should want, right? Two of the most amazing people he knows being interested in him. He almost says yes – he really does – but he can't help the doubt. Can't help the pair of eyes flashing through his mind. The pair of green eyes that definitely don't belong to Aerith. "I-I… can't."

"Oh? Is there somebody else you like?" The smile hasn't left her face – thankfully, she doesn't seem that bothered by Cloud's rejection.

Cloud takes a shaky breath, blushing at the thought of warm hands he can almost feel still holding him. "I… I think so? I can't stop thinking about them at least…"

"Ooh! Who? Tell me!" Aerith looks entirely too interested now, absolute mirth shining in her eyes.

Zack takes the moment to scoot up, joining their huddle, a smirk starting to grow on his face. "Oh? Have another girl in mind? Maybe somebody with black hair?"

Black hair? That sounded like Tifa. A week ago, he would have said yes. Heck, a couple days ago, he would have said yes. But now… now he's not so sure. Now he can't get the sight of slitted green out of his head. Can't stop the words I'm glad you're safe from bouncing unimpeded throughout his foolish, foolish brain. He was finally being trained by his idol, and now he wants to ruin things by having feelings for the man? Unrequited feelings at that, no doubt. "Uhh… silver hair, actually."

Aerith practically squeals in her excitement, clapping her hands together delighted. "I knew it!"

"Wait. Silver hair? I don't think I've met a girl with silver hair before." Zack gawks at the two of them, face the textbook definition of confusion. Cloud ignores him, though, his surprise at Aerith's perception so great that he doesn't have it in him to worry about anything else. How had Aerith known? Was he really that obvious? Zack, frustrated with the lack of response, tries a different approach – in Cloud's defense, he was far too stunned for this. "Who do you know that has silver hair, buddy?"

Embarrassed, Cloud drops his head into his hands. This was the worst. He would much rather go back to talking about that terrifying dream. Heck, he would even go for being in the dream again. How does he tell his best friend that he has the hots for their superior? Better yet, how does he extract himself from this situation without saying anything else? Without saying anything more incriminating than he already has?

Unfortunately, he doesn't get the chance to painlessly extricate himself from this conversation, Aerith choosing that time to giggle at her boyfriend. "It's a good thing you're cute, Zack." Glancing down at his arms for a second, when she returns her gaze, she winks at him. "And strong." Zack looks like he's torn between being flattered and mildly offended when Aerith bulldozes right over the both of them. "It's not a girl that Cloud has a crush on."

"Not a girl…?" Zack's face scrunches up, puzzled, as he mulls over Aerith's words. Far sooner than Cloud is ready for, realization dawns on the teen's face and Zack turns a troubled look his way. "No. Absolutely not."

Not entirely successful at keeping the pout off his face, Cloud scoffs at the teen. He already knew he was being stupid, he couldn't help it, but he had thought – hoped – that Zack would be more accepting, more understanding. Gaia, the other teen was the one who had almost kissed him. "I know I'm not good enough for him, Zack. You don't have to remind me." Cloud crosses his arms over himself protectively as he turns his gaze downward to the blankets, trying to ignore the prickling in his eyes.

"Spikey? What…?" Zack is suddenly in his personal space again, hands once more on his face, lifting his eyes up. "I… No… Sephiroth isn't good enough for you. Not nearly by half. You deserve soooo much better, buddy."

He deserves better? Than Sephiroth? Cloud very nearly rolls his eyes at the ridiculous thought. "What are you talking about Zack? Sephiroth is the freaking General of Shinra. How is he not good enough for me, a simple cadet?"

Something of a pained grimace passes over Zack's face, a hint of grief in his wide, sad eyes. "What? No… Cloud, you don't understand…" Zack growls – which still doesn't help the 'puppy' thing – and tugs irritated at his hair. Dropping his hands into his lap with a light thunk, he turns an entirely heartbroken look to Cloud. "You are sooo much more than a simple cadet, Cloudy."

Taking pity on her boyfriend, Aerith lays a comforting hand on his shoulder and reassures softly, "That's not Sephiroth's fault and you know it." Zack nods stiffly, but doesn't look too convinced.

Wait. Were they talking about what had happened the other day? "The thing with Johnson? Of course that isn't Sephiroth's fault, Zack. You know he was just as upset as everybody else." The man was even prepared to kill the cadets for touching him – which was another thing that Cloud couldn't get out of his head.

"No… That's not… I…" Zack groans and shakes his head. Sighing miserably, he turns worried eyes to Cloud. Voice weak, his next protest sounds like his last resort. "You're too young."

Cloud does roll his eyes at that. He's 14 – he knows he's too young. "Gaia, Zack. I'm not about to throw myself at him." He's not that dumb.

Whining, Zack appears to be at a loss for words as he looks back and forth between them desperately. Finally, he sighs, a sign that he had given in. "I have to talk to him."

Cloud tries to protest, he really does, but Aerith beats him to it, shaking her head amazed, as if not quite believing what she was hearing. "Are you really going to give the strongest man in the world The Talk?"

"…If I have to."


"How is Cloud?"

Sephiroth raises an eyebrow at Rufus. He knows that the President was bothered by what happened, but Rufus didn't really summon him for just this, did he? "He's fine. He's with Aerith and Zack at the moment." When all Rufus does it nod, Sephiroth can't help the twitch. Looks like they're doing this the hard way. "With all due respect, Mr. President, you didn't call me all the way up here just to ask after Cloud."

"Direct as always, General." Leaning forward in his chair, Rufus props his elbows on the desk, chin coming to rest on his laced fingers, a serious look on his face. Sephiroth tenses instinctually. With that look, whatever it is can't be good. "There have been reports of unrest in Wutai."

"Avalanche, sir?"

"That branch was dealt with when Veld took out Fuhito." Rufus gives him a long, hard look before sighing. "No, it would appear that somebody has it out for you, Sephiroth."


A/N:

- It might be canon that Hojo believes Sephiroth dead at first after Nibelheim, but I thought it would be creepier if he did think he was still alive somehow. (Though, he didn't seem that surprised in the Remake to find out that Sephiroth was wandering the halls of the Shinra Building...)
- I'm sorry about the first part of the dream... I'm not sorry about the second part, though lol