There's a knock at the door. Another, and another. If he ignores them long enough, they'll go away.
"Cloud, are you in there?" Tifa's concerned voice comes through, muffled by the door. "I've got food! ... I'll leave it out here okay?" There's a longer pause, before her shadow moves, and the tell tale clack of shoes on metal announces her departure.
Cloud only relaxes once he's sure she's gone.
He's sitting in the dark on his bed, curled up against the headboard with his head between his knees. The only sound is the dull roar of distance engines, the rush of the wind outside against the wings of the plane. It's mostly quiet. He can hear more things than most, but they're distant background noise compared to the noise in his head.
He sits there, quiet, motionless. But he doesn't close his eyes... he'd rather not see what's there.
Sighing, the young man curls in on himself further, trying to avoid tears. He can't count the amount of times he's cried since he "woke up". Every time a memory hits him, every time he so much as blinks, or thinks - its like the events of the last week are on HD replay in his head, constantly screaming in his ear, and he just can't shut it off.
Cloud's brains are scrambled eggs. Everything is fucked up. He remembers Nibelheim, looking for his mom, entering the house - she was there, and so was somebody else, and ... and something ? something happened - then the darkness came, and with that came pain and his voice and all the screaming -
Cloud expels breath sharply, shutting the thoughts out.
They come and go, in and out of order, some blurry and vague, others all too sharp and perfectly remembered. He can't stop thinking about it. Nothing is enough of a distraction. It's not like he wants to focus on it, not like he wants to keep it on replay in his mind...
He just can't escape it.
And everytime he does, for just a moment, he sees her. His mother's face. Her laugh, her smile. Her tears and blood on the carpet. And that is worse than any memory or agony he could face, the idea that that monster still has his mom, that he left her behind -
That he forgot her.
"Fuck," Grabbing and tearing at his hair, Cloud twists, moving into an uncomfortable position without even thinking.
Knock at the door. Unable to bear it, Cloud grabs a pillow off the bed and throws it at the door. "LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"
It hits the door, and with that thud, he snaps out of it, and gasps. "I - sorry, I'm..." He doesn't know what to say, so he falls silent, waiting to see if the person will just leave or get angry. Depends on who it is.
There's some noise outside, some shuffling. Then, the door slides open.
"Hi," Aerith says with a small smile.
Cloud blinks, cheeks tear stained, eyes red, mouth agape.
The girl walks in all smiles like he hadn't just cussed her out. In her hands is the dinner tray Tifa left behind. She kicks the door closed with her foot, before moving forward and setting the tray on the bed. With no concern at all, she sits down on the bed, legs swinging childlishly.
"Hungry?" She asks. At the question, she reaches out and takes a bit of his food for herself, just a nibble. Cloud stares.
"... no." He manages, a moment later. "Help yourself."
She shrugs, then digs in, clearly hungrier than Cloud's felt in days. He watches without feeling, curled up on the bed, just slightly perplexed as to the girl's behavior and reason for being around.
"Did you need something?" He continues a moment later.
Wiping at her mouth, Aerith shakes her head. "No. Well, maybe. If you're up to it." She smiles a little, but... it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "So, you know we chased you and Zack everywhere, right?" The reminder is like adding kindling to the fire. He pulls in on himself. "Well, the ship ran right out of gas, so we had to park it after we finally found you. Cid took us to the nearest place to get refilled, and guess what?" She beams, smiling. "It's the Golden Saucer! Seriously, I never thought I'd have the chance to go. Can you believe it?"
He hears the words like a distant dream, like something happening to someone else. The person having this conversation can't be him... it's so unlike his reality as it was, as it has been...
"Hey," A face is suddenly in his, two hands reaching almost to cup his face, but stopping just before touching him. "Don't get lost now, okay?"
He blinks, surprised, and backs away. Aerith gets out of his space, but doesn't leave, kneeling on the bed. Cloud just... stares. She's an anomaly he can't comprehend; where everyone else has been avoiding him or leaving him alone she is simply here.
Her eyes grow a little sad, he thinks. Her head tilts. Slowly, her gaze drifts downward. "I have one of those." She points to his arm; glancing down, Cloud sees the marks in his elbow, where repeated and often ungentle use of a syringe had left a myriad of scars. "Yours will heal up, I bet." Then, she lifts her arm, revealing the inside of her elbow, where simliar marks from years before remain.
Cloud's throat is so tight it hurts to speak. "... you?"
A slow nod. "Yeah," Her smile is pained, anguished even. "Me." Then she chuckles. "You, me, Sephiroth, Vincent, Nanaki... we could start a support group. 'People Hojo has Fucked Over'. It's a surprisingly large group."
"Not so surprising." He manages. Not as surprising as this girl, apparently.
After a moment's hesitation, she speaks again. "I can leave if you want. I just know... when I got out, I didn't want to be alone. Not really. I just... didn't know how to ask."
Ouch. He stiffens, not meaning to, hit by the truth of her words. It's like he can barely speak to anyone. Admitting anything... saying anything... it's too hard. Not when they always look at him with that pity, that horror, when they stumble and fumble around him as if he's made of glass...
"So. Anyway." The girl attempts to discreetly wipe at her eyes, then forces a smile on her face. "I thought we might go out tonight! A date at the Golden Saucer! A good distraction, don't you think?"
He realizes then, that he's not the only one suffering. Of course, he knew that logically, but it's a different thing to see. To see a teenage girl's shoulders stiff and trembling, her eyes red from crying, a fake smile on her face, - trying to comfort him. When he is the living reminder of what she'd already been through - a reminder that the man who did it is still out there.
Vincent... Sephiroth... how must they feel?
But he can't think about it. Cloud can barely process his own pain, he can't handle anything else. But this... maybe this...
"Okay." He says. "Just don't expect good company."
The smile he gets in return is big and genuine. "I already have it." Aerith insists.
Cloud Strife has never been on a date with a girl, but he suddenly has newfound respect for straight men and lesbians if they're all like Aerith Gainsborough.
Once she got through her nerves and reservations in speaking to him about it, it was like their previous conversation never happened. Aerith was a bubbly, fun loving girl who didn't know how to take no for an answer. It was like he never spoke at all. She wanted to do absolutely everything there was to do at the Golden Saucer, and nothing Cloud said would change her mind.
"That was amazing!"
Cloud, still reeling a little from the ride, grabs at his stomach. "If you say so," He says, green at the gills.
"Oh man, you look awful!" The giggles that prompts makes him frown petulantly, but that only has Aerith laughing harder. "Alright, alright, I've tortured you enough. How about... just one more?"
"Oh god," Cloud laughs outright, winded already. "It's been 'one more' for an hour!" But he can't resist that girlish little smile, the childish way she puts her arms in front of her pleadingly. The manipulative sneak. "Fine, which one?"
Grinning she grabs his hand, and he holds on for dear life. Not for any rides, not for any reason he's said aloud... but she knows, and she grips him like a lifeline.
Aerith drags him across the park, which they've seen most of in the last few hours, to the biggest ride at the Golden Saucer. Cloud's eyes are like saucers as he stares up at the thing, mouth dropping.
"Nope."
"Oh, come on!" Aerith pouts. "It's got to be an amazing view!"
"You know what's amazing?" Cloud says dryly. "The view from here, firmly on the ground."
"You really don't like heights, huh?" Aerith shakes her head a little, like she's trying to understand it. But before he can retort, her eyes catch sight of something, and she leans around to wave at someone. "It's okay! If you fall from the ride, Sephiroth can catch you!"
Cloud's gut falls to his feet. A cold sweat breaks out over his head as he turns, slowly, to see just the man walking over towards them.
"S - Sephiroth?" Blushing at the fact he just goddamned stuttered, Cloud clears his throat and tries to pretend it never happened. "What are you doing here?" This is not what he wanted the man to see. Ever. He's in some of his casual clothes, a Placebo band tee shirt and grease covered jeans, holding a giant chocobo plush under one arm and a bag of half eaten cotton candy in his other hand. If he ever looked more the country bumpkin...
"Cloud." The man says his name like it's sin, of course. Cloud flushes. "I am... surprised to see you here."
"We decided to have some fun." Aerith answers for him. Just then the first open gondola swings down from the enormous cart ride around the park, and Aerith beams. "We can talk about it on the ride!"
"What - no, Aerith, I mean it - sERIOUSLY WOMAN!"
Too late. He's shoved in, with a confused and bemused Sephiroth, and Aerith shuts the door with a clank behind him.
Holy shit. This is awful on so many levels. The cart moves with a groan and he groans with it, already lurching from the movement. He collapses onto the nearest bench, and quickly feels a flush growing over his face.
It's a small gondola to begin with. Now, with three people, it's crowded. With one of those people taller than six foot and built like a tank, they are practically sardines. Cloud's legs are tangled up with Sephiroth's and Aerith is squished in a corner, but Cloud doesn't feel bad about that because this is all her fault.
"Are you happy?" Trying to draw his legs up onto the bench, Cloud turns to frown at her.
"Very!"
"Good. I'm tossing you out the door."
"Somehow, I don't think Zackary would appreciate that."
The name is a bucket of water over his head. Zack, standing in front of him, defending his life... Zack, bleeding and shouting for him to stay down... hours of the man probing his mind, seeing the broken pieces and trying to put them together despite Cloud fighting against him... Zack... Zack...
"Cloud, breathe!"
At the order, he takes a deep, deep breath, realizing for the first time that he is curled into his knees and pulling his hair out. The breath turns to hyperventalating, which the voice quickly informs him is bad. "Breathe with me... in, and out..."
It takes a few minutes for the white noise to fade and the static in his brain to clear out. When it does, Cloud is winded, shaken, and ashamed. He avoids everyone's eyes, not that that lasts for long. In just a minute, Aerith is simply kneeling in front of him.
"I'm sorry," She puts a hand on his knee, and suddenly, he feels a lot better. "Maybe we should go back to the ship?"
He shakes his head, slowly. "I'm alright... I feel better here." It was the truth. Sitting in that room... being around everyone else... he doesn't want that right now.
But damn... if he doesn't feel guilty now... on a "date" with Zack's girl, while the man is in the hospital because of what he did for Cloud...
"Stop it."
Aerith's gentle smack to his head makes Cloud chuckle. "What? I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking something I can tell." She says as she takes her seat again.
"Oh I'm not allowed to think now?"
"Nope." Aerith grins, shaking her head. "No thinking. Just enjoy the ride." Just then, a thunderous boom echoes in the distant. Cloud jolts, terrified for half a moment, until Aerith gasps in delight. "Fireworks!"
Of course. It's a theme park. Ashamed again, Cloud flushes and hopes no one noticed his blunder. Luckily, all the attention is quickly on Aerith. "Where are they?" Smushing her face to the window, eyes wide in delight, she grins as she tries to seek out the source of the sound. "There!" She's half plastered to the glass. "Aw, they're really far off in the corner. I can't see them from here!" Turning, she glances around the room... and her eyes settle on Sephiroth.
The man blinks like a deer in headlights. "... Yes?"
"Come on, scooch up!" She insists.
"Where?" Sephiroth scoffs. "Do you want the gondola to flip over?"
"We'll be fine."
"We, who?" Cloud tries to say, but it's futile. She has his hand and is dragging him to the other bench, where apparrently the view is better. But there's no room on the bench, there's just Sephiroth's lap, which the girl apparently has no problem just plopping into.
She pulls Cloud along, and the man is forced to settle on Sephiroth's left thigh. Flushing brightly, he tries to keep his weight on his feet, to avoid being a burden, and leans as far forward as possible. Aerith has none of these quibbles. She pulls up on the window, looking out, Sephiroth's arm trapped between her and the wall.
"Amazing..." She gasps. "I've never seen them before..."
For a moment, the blond is distracted. They are beautiful... myriad colors flashing in bright bursts against the night sky. "Me, neither." He admits.
"Then you should get a better look." A smooth voice at his ear says. Then, an arm gently moves around his torso, pulling him further onto Sephiroth's lap, next to Aerith, where the window is easier to see.
Cloud is as red as the cherry red fireworks bursting in the sky. His heartbeat, he thinks, might be just as loud, too.
He doesn't say a word though. Doesn't freak out about the arm still holding him, the lap he's sitting in, the soft breaths on his ear. Cloud forces himself to be stock still, watching the fireworks, with Aerith gasping beside him.
"I'm so glad I got to do this..." She says, smiling softly. "I never imagined, growing up under the plate, I'd get to see this much of the world..."
"Perhaps you'll be able to see more." Sephiroth says quietly. "Once this ordeal is over... you can travel freely."
"Yeah." The wistful tone of her voice strikes Cloud's heart. He turns to look at her, face lit by the fireworks, smile soft and hopeful. "I'll come back..." She says. "I'll come back, when it's all over."
They sit together, the three of them, comfortable and quiet, until the show is done.
It's near to three am when Cloud finds the courage to show up at Zack's room.
He's been in the hospital ward since they boarded the ship. Cloud's not sure of the extent of it... but it's bad. Even for a SOLDIER. They'd been on the run and hounded for days, but it was right at the end there that did it. What blurry memories felt like minutes to Cloud, were actually hours. Hours that Zack stood and fought and defended him, against an onslaught of memories.
Much longer... and he wouldn't have made it.
Just the thought has Cloud clutching at his chest, reeling at the very thought of someone dying for him - let alone Zack. Zack Fair, all sunshine and brightness who in the few days Cloud's known him, has become someone he solidly trusts and believes in. That's no easy feat, for him. But the man oozes sincerity and generosity, and it almost killed him.
My fault.
Hesitating at the door for long minutes, Cloud finally gives a sigh, quietly turns the nob, and walks in.
"Took you long enough."
He freezes. At that instant he does an about face, ready to run out - "Hey, hey! Is that any way to treat your camping buddy?"
Camping buddy. As if that's what they were, as if that's what had happened. When he could have said so much more, as if the weight of his near sacrifice didn't hang between them. Guilt turns Cloud's feet for him.
Zack looks better than expected. All bandaged up, head to toe, tied up to machines, and resting in bed with a weary expression, but... good. Not half dead. Still, by his tired eyes and the number of healing wounds on him, Cloud doubts he'll be leaping up for a while yet. Guilt gnaws at him, sharp and biting.
"None of that." The man's voice is a little raspy, weak. He smiles. "You can come sit down you know. Promise I won't bite."
Cloud, wringing his hands nervously, is powerless to do anything but what Zack asks. So he sits, stiff and nervous, hands clutched in front of him.
"Back to yourself?"
It takes a moment for Cloud to understand - then he nods. "Uh, yeah," He flushes with embarrassment. "Vincent, uhm... he figured it out."
"That's good."
Memories flash back to him, half remembered and vague, of all those nights he'd thought he was actually Vincent, and poor Zack had played along, all the while trying to lead him back in the right direction. Fresh guilt stabs him. "Sorry about that." Of course, that's the least of what he should be apologizing for. "S - Sorry, I..."
"Hey." A hand, trembling slightly, reaches out and grabs his. The grip is weaker than Cloud would like, much weaker. "None of this is your fault. One man's to blame and we both know who he is." Zack's frown deepens, and he squeezes reassuringly. "I just wish I'd gotten us out sooner. I'm the one who should be apologizing..."
"You just said it was one man's fault." Cloud manages, voice wobbly and wet. "You weren't talking about yourself were you?"
He chuckles. "No, I wasn't. You got me." Both manage a weak laugh.
"Still..." With his free hand, Cloud wipes at his eyes. "Thank you. For everything. I - I can't... even begin..."
"Then don't." Zack murmurs quietly. "You don't have to say anything."
He sniffles. He shakes. Zack's hand still holds his, firm yet gentle, even as his grip is weak with injury. All of it just crashes down on him and Cloud sobs, he shakes with the force of his cries, and falls against the edge of the hospital bed. Zack's other hand cradles his head, and he lets loose his agony until the bedsheets are soaking wet.
Once he's calmed, once he's cried himself hoarse and red eyed, chest aching from the gasping breaths, he sits up. "S - Sorry." Cloud wipes fiercely at his eyes.
"Don't be." Zack smiles again. "Like I said none of this is on you."
"Still, I..." He sniffles. "I..."
"Hey." The man manages to turn some, trying to face Cloud better. "If you feel like you owe me, you can do one thing. Kick Hojo's ass." The smile becomes a smirk, but it's sharper than normal. Cloud nods, feeling his own anger rising. "Better yet, I've got some presents for just that occasion."
Cloud blinks. Confused, he watches Zack gesture to the end of the bed. "Had the crew bring 'em from my room for me. I wanted to see you with them myself." Cloud stands and approaches the bench near the wall. It looks like a set of clothes, and...
"Your sword." Cloud gawks, recognizing the blade the man had carried throughout their ordeal. How he'd managed to snag it back from Hojo, Cloud couldn't guess.
"Yup! The Buster Sword. It's not gonna be much use to me for a while." Zack shrugs nonchalantly. "Yours all got left in Nibelheim, right? I'm sure you'll put it to good use. And those clothes are better armor than the civilian shit you've been wearing. You gotta dress for your job, right?"
Mouth dry, Cloud picks up the shirt, letting it unfold. "I'm not a SOLDIER."
Even after years of being jaded about Shinra, years after having given up his dream... something about this is still awe inspiring. There is still good here, still something worthwhile in SOLDIER and what it represents, especially when two of the best people Cloud's ever met are the top members. Flushing, the blond turns to protest, but Zack shakes his head.
"The hell you aren't." The man beams. "I heard you beat the General in combat - only people I've ever known who could come close to that were all SOLDIERs. You've got the Mako, too. And hey, we've all been fucked over by Hojo, so it seems to me you've got plenty in common with us."
The mention of Sephiroth has Cloud's stomach clenching tight. "... and what does he think about it?"
"Ask him yourself." The man winks. "I promise you won't be disappointed."
Unable to help himself, Cloud does just that. He leaves the room, moving in almost a panic to find Sephiroth. (He does not even realize, consciously, that he finds the man much too easily.) The General is still with Aerith, sitting up talking in the cafeteria on the second floor.
Cloud walks right up to Sephiroth, too emotional, too focused to do anything else. He hardly notices what's going on around him. "You..." He gestures with the uniform, held in one hand, tight in a bunched fist. The sword is held in the other. "Are you..." Struggling for the words, Cloud stares in shock at the thing. "Are you okay with this?"
Sephiroth stands. It's a movement that seems slower and more graceful than ever. Cloud waits with baited breath as the man approaches, long legs tapping on the tile. He stops, half lidded eyes glance down at the clothes. "No." He says tersely. Before Cloud's stomach can drop out of the airship under him, the man continues. "This is a pair of Zack's old 2nd class fatigues." His gaze meets Cloud's. "You are suited to no less than 1st."
The man leaves. In his stunned shocked silence, Cloud doesn't even think to move. So he's still standing there when the man returns with what can only be one of his own 1st class uniforms.
"You... don't even wear these." Cloud insists. The man chuckles at that.
"I used to, quite often." Sephiroth says. "Sometimes I still work out in them."
"Hey," Aerith, no longer content to be ignored, stands and runs over. "Can I get one too?"
"You are not SOLDIER."
"Cloud's not either!" The girl about pouts, arms crossed. "What, I can't join the secret boys only club?"
"It is not a club." Sephiroth sighs, rolling his eyes. "And the gender restrictions are an archaic and arbitrary guideline inforced by the late President Shinra, and in no way reflect upon SOLDIERs values or beliefs."
"So I get to be a SOLDIER too right?" Aerith lifts one arm, squeezing her bicep. "I was experimented on, you know. And I bet I'm better with materia than any of your boys!"
Sephiroth sighs fondly, exasperatedly, and Cloud shakes the stiffness from his limbs. Remembering himself, he bows low, red faced and stuttering. "T - Thank you!" When he stands back up, his heart skips a beat to see Sephiroth smiling.
"No," The man insists. "Thank you."
It has been more than a week since Jean Strife has had any company - so it is easy to notice when that changes.
Her eyes snap open. Years of living as a warrior and soldier have her senses trained, honed to a sharp edge. Someone is in the room with her. Her "prison" isn't bad as far as cages go, it's basically a crappy one room motel, with someone shoving a plate of food in a few times a day. She hasn't seen her captor since the first day, and figures that she's not useful as anything other than leverage. No questioning, no visitations, no moving around base. They're just keeping her, an item stocked on the shelf.
No one has been allowed in. So, immediately her curiosity is peaked. She feigns sleep, staying stock still as she listens to the increasingly odd sounds.
THUD. "Shush! Don't wake it!" THUD, THUD. "I - I'm sorry!" "You're useless!" "N - No I'm not!"
The sounds... the voices... they're... childish. Horror rises in her at the thought, and unbidden, she rises to her feet, and flicks on the light switch.
Three bright eyed children sit kneeling on the floor, staring in awe and horror at her. Oh, gods. They're kids. Five at the oldest, scrawny and clearly terrified as they stare at her.
"We just wanted to see!" One shouts in defense, the most afraid, already shaking.
"We didn't do anything wrong!" The second voice is firm, anger, and from the shortest of the three.
The third is absolutely silent, not afraid, but refusing to meet her eyes, either.
Three children... all with silver hair, and the same bright green mako eyes her own son has. Jean's heart stops in her chest. Slowly, she kneels, staying where she is.
"Are you boys lost?" She asks. "I'm not angry. I was just surprised, that's all." They seem surprised at that, and as one three sets of eyes meet hers.
By the gods, they're so young. She can't think of what they might be doing in this place or she'll lose her temper. Then, she remembers her half eaten plate from earlier, still on the table. Slowly, carefully, she stands, and gestures to it.
"Hungry?" She asks. All three eyes lit up, and in no time the boys are sitting with her at the table, finishing her food for her. For a minute, she's patient, content to watch them.
"So, what are you three doing sneaking around past your bedtimes?"
The crybaby looks at her. "What's a bedtimes?"
"It's bedtime, stupid!" The shortest one yells. Then, slightly embarrassed, he turns to her. "... yeah, what is it?"
These children - they're precocious. So mature, and smart for their age. But emotionally... clearly they've had no love or support here. No surprise, given the location. She could just about wring the necks of every employee here, if she could just get the fuck out...
"Nevermind." She says, leaning forward. "What about names? You have those, right?"
They glance at one another, hesitating for just a moment.
"Kadaj," Says the short one.
"Loz," the crybaby.
And finally, "Yazoo," the quiet child.
She smiles encouragingly. "I'm Jean. But you can call me..."
"Mother?" Loz about shouts in excitement. "Are you mother?"
It takes her by surprise, but the hope and sheer joy in their eyes melts her doubts. "Yes," She smiles. "Call me mom."