A Door Between Worlds

"When will you learn, Cloud?"

After Quistis and Seifer disappeared, much like Rinoa had, the group collected Aerith and Cloud, and traveled back to Highwind to consider their next move. With Aerith still out of commission, that responsibility fell to Cloud to figure out. Nanaki's suggestion of returning to Cosmo Canyon had been generally agreed as the best course, but Cloud wouldn't commit yet. Refusing to continue freezing his assets off, Cid set Highwind on a course due South, figuring they would be headed for the Canyon once Cloud "Pulled his head out'v his ass". Cloud, to the surprise of none, was far more concerned about what had happened to Aerith than to their next course of action. Seeing that Tifa would again remain silent, Sephiroth refused to.

"Learn what, exactly?"

"That there is much more at stake than your petty obsessions. That we can no longer pursue such a reckless course and pray for fortune to save us from your stubborn ignorance and obliviousness. That what you are doing is not simply falling short of helping the situation, it's actively and needlessly endangering it."

"If you don't like how things are going, you're free to go. Encouraged, even."

"By whom, Cloud. Open your eyes and ask those around you how many are anxious for my departure. Your blind prejudices aside, there is no logical cause for your hating me any longer. We are on the same side, and we seek the same end result."

"We will never be on the same side."

"For the love of the planet, WAKE UP! Regardless of who is at fault for what happened then, it happened, and none of it can be taken back. How long will you sacrifice the future for the sake of the past you cannot change? How long will you put friends in harms way for your own pursuits?"

"I don't put them anywhere they don't choose to be."

"You very nearly got Vincent killed just hours ago. We were unprepared, under supplied, and without any semblance of a plan. When you found Aerith, again what YOU raced here to find, you abandoned the pretext of even caring what happened to any of the rest of us. A mysterious voice tells you to aid your friend, whom you left there in your haste, and you send everyone else, with little more than the weapons in their hands."

"What right do you have to question how I lead? It worked. We found her."

"You found her, Cloud. That's what you were about to say, isn't it?"

"Yes, I found her, for all the help you've been. And I would walk into Hell to do it again, and so would they!"

"Indeed they would, for far better reasons than yours. This isn't even about Aerith. It never was. It's about you! Reclaiming what you lost, redeeming yourself for your past failures, and damned the consequences!"

"Don't pretend to understand any of this, Sephiroth. You will never understand what happened, what we lost!"

"He does."

The sound of shouting voices hung in the air, and slowly drifted away. The last statement had been so quiet, it had almost been drowned out.

"What?"

Tifa looked up, and said it again, louder.

"He does understand, Cloud. You're the one who doesn't. You never really have."

"What...what do you mean?"

"You've never asked how I felt about what happened. You never cared enough to. Since the day you left Nibelheim, I have always come second, if even that high at times. You didn't care how I would feel about seeing you again. You only cared about your shame at not being all you said you'd be. Zack died saving your life, and you didn't care enough about either of us to honor his sacrifice and come home to what you said you were doing it all for. And then there was Aerith, your light of hope. You couldn't, or wouldn't, save me, so you decided to save her instead. It became your obsession."

"I didn't..."

"My father survived, Cloud. He survived the town burning down, he survived the reactor. My mother didn't die either, she was taken away by Gast, by Shinra. I have no idea what happened to either one of them, if they're even still alive. But instead of racing off to find out, I kept my head on what matters, and I came along on your crusade. Bottom line, Cloud, he WAS there, he understands better than you do, better than you can."

Cloud's face tried to register the shock of what was happening, but it simply couldn't. His eyes moved between Sephiroth and Tifa, back and forth, until finally resting on Sephiroth again. Slowly his face hardened.

"Some things never change."

"And some things do, Cloud."

"l'm supposed to believe this hasn't been your plan all along? To turn her against me?"

"You have spent years doing that all on your own, Cloud."

Cloud's hand went to his sword, pulling it out quickly. The others stepped back, equally shocked at what was happening.

Sephiroth frowned, "This isn't the answer, Cloud."

"It is for me."

And with that, he struck. Or tried to, at least.

As the sword came around, he was struck a blow to the head, coming from the side. As he jumped to his feet, he stopped dead.

Tifa was standing in front of Sephiroth, her fists raised.

"Then this is my answer, Cloud Strife. If you try to lay a finger on the man I love, I will beat you until my hands bleed. If you choose to make him an enemy, you make me one to."

The sword fell from Cloud's stunned hand, and his legs gave out, dropping him to his knees. He stared at Tifa, his mouth hanging open. Numbly, he looked around at each of the members of his team, his friends. A look from each told him where they stood. Even Barret's face remained hard. Finally, Cloud's eyes came back to Tifa.

"Love?", he croaked out.

"Yes, Cloud. Love."

"H..him?"

"Don't make this harder than it is."

"Harder? Harder than what? Betrayal?"

"Who's betrayal, Cloud? How about, for the first time, you see your own. You betrayed me. You left me. And for what? For Shinra! You wanted to become a stooge, an accomplice to their madness. Just so you could become stronger. In case you missed the memo, buddy, we were all getting stronger because OF them. We didn't have much choice. You never asked what I thought, or wanted, or felt. You just waited for a nice chat under the stars to tell me, "Hey, Tifa, I'm outta here. Maybe I'll be back when I've bloody well gotten over my self obsessive nature."

"I did it for you."

"Keep telling yourself that, Cloud, if it helps chase the guilt away. Because someday it won't. You weren't doing it for anyone but you. And maybe in the end it was my sin to, Cloud. Maybe if I had just said the words, told you that I didn't need a hero or a savior or even someone stronger. I needed YOU! For all this time, through it all, all I have ever needed was you. We could have done it together. But you couldn't get over losing. Your ego couldn't get over the fact that even though we beat him, Sephiroth still took something from you. To hell with the fact he took that same something from all of us, all that mattered was that he beat you. I'm not going to bother wishing you gave a damn about what he's lost in his truly fucked up life. I know you're not remotely capable of that. But maybe you could somehow get through that head of yours what we all lost. You know, your friends? We all started over, moved on. We made the best of a rotten deal. But you never did because you never could."

By this point, Tifa could barely get anything out through the crying. All of this had been building for so long that it just poured out like a river which had broken the dam. She had to stop to even take a breath, her breathing coming out in ragged bursts. Finally it started to settle down

"Did you...you two..."

"That's a question I refuse to answer. It's not your right to ask. I've tried to be everything I could to you, Cloud. I gave you the best I had in me, and more. But I will not be the martyr to your fallen dreams anymore. We are going to finish this. For the planet, and for Aerith. And when it's over, my life will move on, with or without you, as I choose."

"You can't."

Tifa let go a bitter laugh.

"Watch me, asshole."

After a pause that seemed much longer than it was, Cloud slowly got back to his feet. He walked toward his cabin, stopping only to mumble to Cid, "Head for the Canyon.", before disappearing through the door.

What followed was one of those moments.

There is stunned silence.

There is awkward silence

There is wounded silence.

This was none of these, and yet all at once.

Tifa closed her eyes, knowing that everyone else was watching her. She knew this wasn't what Sephiroth had intended to do, or to say. He had wanted to help. Now, it was all different. The mission would carry on, but nothing would ever be the same again.

Yet for all of the feelings that raced through her in that moment, regret wasn't among them. Guilt, fear, relief, sadness, anger, anxiety, even irony. But not regret. The words had been building inside for so many years that she didn't know what to do now that they had been said.

As no one else knew what to say, Vincent finally spoke up.

"We will regroup at Cosmo Canyon, resupply, and get Elder Bughe to look over Aerith. There is little more we can do now but wait." After a moment, he added, "Yuffie."

"Yea?"

"Did Quistis and Seifer take the materia with them?"

"I think so."

"Then we will have to see what we can find out about it as best we can. If there is a record of it, it will be at the Canyon."

Yuffie nodded, and the group dispersed, each taking a last look at Tifa. After a while, it was only Tifa and Sephiroth remaining on the open deck.

"Tifa."

"Don't, Sephiroth. Don't say anything right now."

"As you wish.", and he made his exit.

Tifa looked out over the view, watching the white change to green and blue. It would be hours before they arrived.

It was then, alone, that the tears started again.

She cried for her mother

She cried for her father

She cried for her hometown

She cried for Wedge and Biggs.

And for the first time in as long as she could remember, Tifa cried for herself.

-

Sephiroth watched, wishing he could dry the tears that he was grateful had finally come.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He didn't have the luxury of love, of a future. He would die again. While he didn't know it for certain, he had felt it since his return. And in his death, he would hurt her far greater than he did in his previous life. She would feel alone, without a purpose. She would seek out her parents, but he couldn't imagine how they would have survived all that had happened. He father couldn't have survived his wounds indefinitely. And her mother had been taken by Shinra. They didn't leave survivors. It was bad for business.

And all of this was a way of avoiding what he knew mattered. He loved her. He had always admired her strength. And now it was so much more than that. He could not recall ever being afraid in SOLDIER. If death came for him, who was he to question it? But now he was afraid of it's call. Not for his own sake, but for hers. It would have been best if he had resisted Aerith's urge to follow her back.

To remain dead would have been better, for everyone.

Yet he had never been more alive.

-----

Cloud had never been given to thoughts of suicide. It was cowardice, plain and simple. It was abandoning your post, you calling, your purpose. It was the ultimate betrayal.

And right now, it was awfully tempting.

Cloud had never been particularly spiritual. He hadn't concerned himself with what happened when you die. If death comes for you, who are you to question it? He realized now that it had been Sephiroth who had taught him that. He had taught him most of what he knew about fighting as well. Not directly, of course. He wouldn't have taken the time on the little whelp who trailed him on every mission he could. No, Cloud had learned by studying him, mimicking his moves and motions. He had become a...

Clone

The word came effortlessly. He had always been a clone of Sephiroth. Not by genetic design, but by choice. Losing his town, losing Tifa, had not been as hard to him as the betrayal of his idol, his archetype. Sephiroth was the master of his fate. He decided it was, and it was. No one who knew him, or of him, ever considered crossing him.

After all this time, Cloud knew he was incomplete, and he knew why. He couldn't become Sephiroth, and he didn't know how to be anyone else. Had there ever really been a Cloud Strife at all? Tifa had believed so once. She had believed in him long after he had forgotten how to. She was his anchor, his lighthouse. Aerith hadn't been there in Nibelheim. She had become his purpose, but Tifa was his soul.

Did he love her? Could he love her? It seemed silly to even ask. He had always taken as writ that his feelings for her were love. He had never questioned what kind. She was his, and he was hers. Their paths, their lives, were inseparable. They shared a bond of joy and pain, all they ever had, and all they, together, had ever lost. Because they had lost it all together. Their town, their parents, their lives and dreams. It had all been taken. All they had was each other.

But not anymore. Now his idol had returned, and had become her future. How could she not love the man? He had worshiped him. But he had worshiped the soldier. She loved the man.

Tifa had chosen Cloud for so long that he hadn't just taken for granted that she always would, he had bet his existence on it. Without her, everything else was irrelevant. Even Aerith.

Especially Aerith

Why had he been so obsessed with her, after all? Who was she to him? He had not seen her as a person, he had seen the pure innocence that had been denied to not him, but to them. Aerith wasn't just his redemption, she was their redemption. She was a chance to rewrite the ending, maybe even extend the story. Tifa had assumed since the beginning it had been that he had fallen in love with her. And Aerith had loved him, that he knew. She had told him on their date that it was unfair for the planet to give her someone like him when it was just going to take one of them away someday. She had told him about destiny and the will of the planet. And then the planet had taken her. Destiny had taken her. And he had blamed himself for failing. Not just for failing Aerith, but for failing them, again. He wasn't worthy of her, he never had been. He couldn't protect what she cared about, so how could he protect her. He wasn't Sephiroth. He couldn't bend fate to his whim.

But, in the end, neither could Sephiroth. He had wanted the rebirth of Jenova, and they had beat him. They had won. But Cloud hadn't seen it then. What he couldn't do alone, they could do together. In his own way, he was the coward. He hadn't killed him, he had killed them. They would never equal the sum of their parts without each other.

So what now? What do you do after you die, but have to carry on anyway. What do you say to the one you closed the door on.

I'm sorry?

Forgive me?

The chance is lost. The tide is passed.

What was that old line about the survivors envying the dead?

Did he fail her again by wishing he could die? It would hurt her that much more. So he would go on, without her. She would be there, would want to stay close, be friends. But they couldn't, not after this.

So he resigned himself. He would see this to it's conclusion. And then he would carry on. He would, to late, give her everything she had wanted of him. And he would serve his term, in the prison of his heart and mind. He had been tried and found wanting. This was his sentence.

And in that moment, he cried. Not for what was lost, or what was taken. He cried for what he gave up.

Before, he had failed.

Now, he had fallen.

And she wasn't there to help him back up.

-----

Vincent held it in his hand. It was so light, almost weightless. And so fragile. Yet deceptively strong. Such a fitting irony.

He had found it on the ground after she was gone. He knew immediately what it was, an oval piece of plastic that had been part of her spectacles. It must have been dislodged when she was struck down. He wondered idly if she had even noticed it gone.

Vincent wasn't one for mementos. They were a reminder not of the one they should remind you of, but that everything fades and falters over time. He had had more of it than most. He should be an old man by now. This wasn't a second chance at life for him, because he had never really had a first chance. But then, that wasn't true, was it? He had not been cursed from the womb as Sephiroth had. He had been given choices. He had chosen to join the Turks, had chosen to accept the assignment to Hojo's service. He had chosen to allow Hojo to go as far as he did. He could have stopped him much sooner, and she might have lived. But she would have hated him for it. He knew that now.

Lucrecia had never been his to love. She belonged to science. She wouldn't have allowed herself to be saved. She didn't think she needed to be.

Vincent thought of Yuffie. She wanted to be saved. She wanted someone to have all of the answers. She really just wanted someone. Her mother had died, and her father had tried to sell her for his own ambitions, to assuage his own guilt. Just as Tifa had chosen Sephiroth, Yuffie had chosen him. She didn't just love him, she accepted him, needed him. He could have a chance with her. But there was much they would have to overcome still. And while Vincent wouldn't claim to be an expert on love, he still was fairly certain what feelings she had for him were much stronger than his were in return. He respected her. In ways, he even admired her. But did he truly love her? Could he?

He again considered the lense. He had felt so comfortable talking with Quistis. She had even made him laugh. No one had done that since his days in the Turks. He wasn't afraid of any feelings he might have for her, and he felt no envy or jealousy of her obvious feelings for this one called Seifer. He just worried about having such a connection to someone he had known for so short a time, when he couldn't find that connection to Yuffie, no matter how much she wanted him to. He was genuinely afraid of hurting her.

For the last three years, he had simply given his time, his thoughts, to Lucrecia. He didn't know what to do for her forgiveness, so he had decided he would spend the rest of time itself seeking it, knowing she couldn't give anything to him. It spared him the feelings of "What now?", that the others had gone through. But they had gone on, had begun to start again. Yuffie had gone back to Wutai, alone. That must have taken such courage. Could he have done the same?

Vincent found himself, in the end, with the lense still in his hand, unable to put it down, and unsure why. He didn't expect her to return, let alone return for it. He should just be rid of it.

So why couldn't he?

-----

It was sad, in a way, Nanaki decided. In that moment when they most needed mental clarity to consider their next move, what has just taken place would render everyone incapable of it. More frustrating was losing Sephiroth and Vincent. They were both keen minds, and would doubtless have some good insights that he would miss. But they were both lost to the drama now. Vincent had been for a while now, ever since his dream, but now Sephiroth was lost to. It wasn't that Nanaki didn't feel that they all could love as they saw fit. But why now? Of all the times to have this struggle.

The last three years had been pleasant ones for Nanaki. He had gone to where his father would forever stand, a sentinel, ever vigilant. He had paid him the respect that was his due, belatedly, but sincerely. He had studied the planets, the stars, and all that lay in between. It had been so peaceful, yet so enlightening. But the planet wasn't done with her saviors. He hadn't resented the call. He was bound by his promise to his fathers memory to protect not only the Canyon, but the planet itself. It was his calling. The thought of transversing to another world troubled him, and he resolved to find an answer to closing this door forever. Such power was to much for mankind to have.

He recalled his last visit home, and chuckled to himself again. He never had gotten around to telling them what he had considered so amusing, had he? Not much point in it now. It had just been so strange to see someone affect Vincent as she had. Nanaki had always counted on Vincent to be reasonable, regardless of the situation. While Hojo's torture had doubtless been indescribable, it had made a better man of him. Nanaki wished there were others who were so dependable, but they were the planets rarest, and most valuable, commodity. If it had been Vincent leading, or even Sephiroth, instead of Cloud, they would be so much farther now.

But perhaps it would be so now. Cloud seemed shell shocked, and Vincent had taken the initiative, so perhaps there was a chance yet.

It wasn't that Nanaki particularly disliked Cloud, because he didn't. Far from it. But he was unable to keep hidden his frustration with Cloud's decided lack of leadership capabilities. The simple reality is that the only reason Cloud had been the leader 3 years ago had been because Tifa had decided it, and none of the group had seen fit to argue the point. He had never had a head for logistics, and his strategies were shaky at best. Most of the time, he was fairly open to constructive criticism and advice, but when he set his mind to a certain path, the planet help anyone who tried to dissuade him from it.

Nanaki never questioned that Cloud had a good heart, and that he meant well, even at the worst of times. And he was effective. He usually got the job done, through sheer willpower if nothing else. He clearly had a tremendous amount of potential. But the same could be said of Sephiroth, and look how that had ended up.

Perhaps that wasn't fair. He was making the best of his second chance, at least as far as he could see it. He and Cloud just seemed to be destined to butt heads.

And now he would be distracted at best. Tifa would be useless. Cloud would be beyond useless, if such a place existed.

Nanaki considered going back out on deck to determine how far they had gone, but decided against it. There was a strong chance of getting tied up in more drama, and he would be home soon enough, hopefully for a longer stay.

-----

There weren't words that did justice to how Yuffie was feeling right that moment. Part of her wanted to scream, while another wanted to vomit. She hadn't been thrilled with Sephiroth's return, but had taken Vincent's word on his being back for the right reasons. She had watched Tifa tough her way through it all, and somehow manage not to kill him. But something had changed after she got back from Nibelheim. She didn't shun him like she had before. And when Cloud asked if something had happened between them, and she wouldn't answer him, well, that was an answer right there, wasn't it?

The world as she knew it didn't make sense anymore. A week ago, if someone had told her that she would be wishing that Vincent would spend the night with her, or that Aerith would come back, or that Tifa would threaten Cloud in defense of Sephiroth, she would have asked for her room at the nuthouse before she believed a word of it.

Funny how trying to stop a madman from destroying the planet was somehow the least of her concerns.

She just wanted something, anything, that made sense. But she still couldn't get over the fact that her and Vincent just didn't make sense. And maybe he had already decided that. Maybe that's why he was avoiding her, to try to spare her feelings. It would be typical of him.

Damn it!

Yuffie needed to hit something. She needed to fight. Fights made sense, they had a pattern, an order, to them. At least they used to.

Yuffie knew why she was really mad. Vincent had almost died, and it hadn't been her at his side. It had been "The One". She had gotten there after all the fireworks were over. And even if she had been there, she wouldn't have been armed for the fight. The super ninja who never even went to the bathroom without Conformer at her side had gone into the crater virtually naked.

Deciding there was no point trying to get some sleep, Yuffie jumped up from where she had been laying on the bed, and headed for the door. It was time to talk to Vincent. She might not like what he had to say. But she was going to hear him say it regardless. She had to know where he stood. Cloud and Tifa had been the measuring stick for her, and even that hadn't survived the insanity of the last few days.

So she had to know.

-----

I can already hear the Cloud fans sharpening knives. All I can say is that you might not be happy with how this all ends, but it's still got a long way to go yet.

Seriously, though, I like Cloud, I really do. But you have to admit, he's just not leader material. Neither, for that matter, is Squall. Square has a strange selection method for their protagonists. Granted, you probably don't want Vincent leading the charge either, given his lone wolf nature. But that's not really the direction I intend to go anyway.

I don't know that this is the "near the end" I alluded to in the initial disclaimer. But the groundwork's pretty well been laid, and the nasties are about to lay it down. So expect the adult material to begin picking up from this point, starting with the next chapter. The fact that I suck at writing such will soon be something I can no longer hide.