Ceaseless Oblivion

Once again, the kindness of everyone on this site astounds me. ^-^ Thank you everyone for caring so much to review and tell me you adore this story, it means so much to me! Almost 200 reviews…this is amazing, truly.

Sephcounttheways…you made me laugh until I about cried with your review! Cloud would get a better parking space if he was mentally retarded, I completely agree! ^-^ And no worries about the lack of reviews on aff, I figure the 600 odd some hits count for themselves. Thank you dear! Expect for some reviews from me on your amazing DA account, and on your famous stories. ^-^

A few things before this chapter begins: Cloud, in the game, movie, and spin-offs, is always shown to be this strong silent type. To put it frankly, he is the Prince of angst muffins. In this chapter, he is going to have to sift through what is important to him, the shame of freaking out so badly, and in conquering what he experienced. He fears being of little use to people, and he will be facing that time and again. He is going to be HARD on himself in this chapter, until a certain Masamune wielder sets him straight. This is a bit emotional for him, and for those that adore Cloud. I love Cloud, and I have always thought that he was the coolest character ever. This is me, helping him along in this story, because I have always wanted to give the guy comfort. Since that is impossible for me to physically hold the hottie hunk that is Cloud-or anyone in this amazing game however-I am allowing it to happen with Sephiroth.

Also…I hate doing this…but in the beginning, there is this nightmare I thought Cloud should have, and I thought it tied into a lot of what he now fears. This chapter is rated M for the sexual content of the dream, as well as the horror he experiences there. But don’t worry, Sephiroth will help him. ^-^ Of that I am certain. Lately I have been reading a lot of horror, to get myself in the mood to write scary things. If anyone likes horror books, check out The Devouring series, by Simon Holt, it is an amazing trilogy. ^-^ Scary as all Hell, but amazing nonetheless. If anything, the second in the series inspired the nightmare sequence.

Songs for this chapter: Imaginary, and Whisper by Evanescence for the nightmare. Give Me a Sign by Breaking Benjamin works really well, with Sephiroth trying to help Cloud in this chapter, as well as Cloud wondering where his friends are. Also, Louder than Thunder by The Devil Wears Prada works exceptionally well for some of the cuter parts of this chapter. ^-^ And of course, Iridescence by Linkin Park, for the “Remember all the sadness and frustration. And let it go, let it go” part. The entire chorus suits Cloud’s journey I feel, as well as Sephiroth’s.

I own nothing. If I did…Angeal would be my trainer for my workout sessions, and I would hot tub with the guys. Just…just never mind. *mutters*
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To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom. ~Bertrand Russell

It might have been a dream, but right then, Cloud did not care. He knew that one thing was for certain however: in this land, this limbo, or wherever he was, Sephiroth was kissing him.

Sephiroth had been on top of him suddenly, gripping the back of his head, his fingers caressing his hair gently, softly. His mouth was everywhere: on his face, tracing the shape of his lips with his tongue, before finally plunging into his mouth. No mercy, but mercy would not do here.

A soft moan escaped Cloud’s lips, and he gripped Sephiroth’s shoulders, the man that he was somehow kissing, and thought that this was the Promised Land. It was a place where nothing bad could happen, a place where the sins and taint of other places could not reach. A kiss this pure could only happen in such a place, could it not?

Meaning…words had deeper meaning here. They would be more profound, octaves undulating in the air, like the energy from a solar system. It would reach the ear, with a verbal caress, and make the listener gasp in ecstasy. That was heaven.

“Sephiroth…is this real?”

Sephiroth stopped kissing him once, laughed, and raised his head. “Of course it is.” The words were beautiful, from a voice that could make the stars weep from the sheer beauty of the timbre. However…something felt off. Even in this state of bliss, Cloud knew that something was amiss. Where was he anyhow?

Cloud about lost that thought when Sephiroth gripped his budding erection. He had pants on at least, for cloth was in between them, too much cloth. Cloud bucked into the touch, and it caused his back to rise above the ground. Ground…he was on a place with solid ground? He opened his eyes, and saw a sky that was…black? Was this the oblivion he had once been stranded in? This…this was real?

Though, he could not remember how Sephiroth had gotten on top of him, or how he had managed to somehow, wind up kissing Sephiroth. That part escaped him.

Then, he felt it. It was sharp, and it was poking into his back. It felt like he was on a bed of spikes, sharp spines that would twist into his skin, making skin bleed and cries escape bruised lips. Bruised lips? Where was that coming from?

Sephiroth kissed him again, and plunged his mouth into his. Cloud gasped aloud when he felt something snake across his throat, coming to rest at the corners of his mouth. It bubbled and brewed, like some sort of acid. Acid…what the Hell was going on?

Panicking, Cloud gripped Sephiroth’s chest, and tried to lever the man off of him. Whatever was happening was affecting Sephiroth as well? Or…was Sephiroth the one causing it? Something was wrong, so wrong.

Sephiroth lifted his head, and grinned. It was not the innocent smirk that he gave him in their time in black limbo. It was a smile that would have made the bravest soul turn tail and run. This was…a darker Sephiroth. The Nightmare. The Calamity who had caused so much destruction.

“What’s wrong Cloud? You’re looking a little…different.”

Cloud saw Sephiroth rise above him, and the sky suddenly turned into a tumultuous tide of red and black clouds, rolling and twisting into the other. It was as if the cloud’s were panicking, trying to get away from something that was going to happen. Clouds…that was his name too!

Though, the most disturbing of all images, was the transformation that became of Sephiroth. Two black wings came from his back, and they twisted around his shoulder blades, looking like dark scythes, bent on causing destruction and mayhem to all those that dared oppose him. He was now…a dark avenger.

“Y-you’re…you’re not Sephiroth.” Cloud swallowed the tremor in his voice. He could not be scared around this abomination that had donned Sephiroth’s form. That was unforgivable. Sephiroth would not scare him like this!

Sephiroth cackled, and from the wings, the feathers began rising, like the hackles and spine of the back of a dragon. They turned into…no, it couldn’t be. Knives. The feathers had become knives, sharpened into points, vicious needles and blades that would cut him, bleed him, and scar his skin. Those wings would kill him!

Cloud rose from where he had been lying down previously, but cried out in anguish. His hand had been impaled by whatever was on the ground. He looked down, and about screamed. He had been lying on a bed of spines, and in the spaces between such a hellish vision, there was nothingness. How had he not been feeling this before? Could love be so blind, and above all…oblivious of the situation?

The ghoul that had become Sephiroth smiled a wicked smile. His wings rose, and from them, feathers shot out, impaling his chest, arms, and legs. Cloud could not stop the screams that came from his mouth. They sounded like a young boy, a child shrieking into the night because there were monsters in his closet. No. The monster had been before him the whole time, sleeping in his bed.

‘Get out. Wake up. Do something!’ This had to be a dream, of that he was certain. This had not been the first time that his dreams had been too literal. The other time had been significantly different however, for it had not been a nightmare. They both entailed Sephiroth however, but in this dream…he was the Nightmare once again.

Sephiroth leered over him once more, and the glints of his Mako eyes looked like glints of jade, blades that would cut and pierce anything in his sight. Destructive eyes, poisonous eyes.

The thing that had become Sephiroth grinned at him, wildly, wickedly, without sanity. “Look at yourself, Strife.” The Masamune was in his hand, and the murderous aura that surrounded it almost made Cloud sick. It was as if he could still smell the blood and flesh that had been killed at the expense of this mad…things appetite. His longing for murder was ravenous, the way vultures circle the dead, longing to pick apart what was left of those that were too weak to survive.

But that was not the only thing that Cloud noticed. With the way that the Masamune was angled, he was allowed to see his own reflection. For a moment, he could not believe that was him. Blood was everywhere, coating his chest, and the back of his throat. He had bit his tongue at some point it seemed. But that was not the worst of it. The places where Sephiroth had kissed him, his mouth, neck and face…had become black. It was almost as if he were once again, suffering from Geostigma. That…or his skin had rotted away by some sort of flesh eating virus.

“W-what…that’s not…”

“But it is. You see, Mother doesn’t have any use for failures such as yourself. You were once my puppet, little Cloud. But now…all you are is an eyesore. Those with the Stigma cannot be expected to help me in my conquest, now can they?” What? He had…no, no he didn’t! He had been cured in the church…he had been healed by Aeris! So why…why did he have it again? His blood was now polluted, corroded…he was a stain.

Too long. He had taken too long to act…and Sephiroth had grown tired of it. Sephiroth’s eyes grew wide, almost as if he was about to see something that he enjoyed greatly. What was he going to do?

Cloud struggled against the horrible bindings, but it was to no avail. The needles held him fast, as did the knives that had been Sephiroth’s feathers. He now had two wings, and he…he had none. Not anymore. Those who were sickly did not deserve to have wings.

Sephiroth raised Masamune, murder in his eyes. “Consider this a blessing, puppet. I am severing your strings.” Cloud’s eyes widened, and he could not stop the screams as the blade cut through his chest, arms, and legs. The heart that the Goddess herself had rebuilt was now gone, every beat of it killing him now.

He had failed. He was of no use to anyone.
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With a gasp, Cloud shot up, and he nearly hit his head on something hard. He was surrounded by blackness all around, and it threatened to consume him, engulf him whole. Where was he? The belly of the beast? He looked to his skin, and was comforted by the blue glint it emanated.

Then he remembered. He had another nightmare-because he was weak, and could not control his fear-right after Sephiroth had taken him to a hollowed out cavern in a tree. Sephiroth had washed his face, for it had been caked with the blood of those that he had to kill off. It all came back to him at a frightening pace, at an almost blinding speed. There had been Aeris, but not. She was this horrifying demon, and had an infected wound where her heart should have been. Her teeth scared him the most. It looked like she would have loved sinking her fangs into his skin, ripping and tearing him apart.

Zack had been there too, as pieces of himself. He had been covered in holes from all of the many bullet wounds that he had taken once upon a time, years and years ago. All to save him. All because he was a pathetic little weakling that wanted to play pretend. Who was he fooling? He never would have gotten into SOLDIER, with or without that damned psychological exam. The wounds Zack had sustained, there in that nightmarish realm, had been leaking with crimson poison, just like Aeris’s had been. The Buster was raised, and he chopped up his friend-hellish specter-and did the same with Aeris, the woman who he owed his life to.

Then…his mother. Cloud shivered, and rubbed his hands over his arms, not from any chill that could be warmed by temperate hands. No. This kind of chill was internal, a bone shuddering freeze that would have killed those who could not handle it. It was a cold that seeped into ones bones, spider webbing a skeleton that was far too fragile to handle battle. That person was him.

The things he had battled, they were only obstacles. He had much to discover still, in this world, and those were just one of the things that he and Sephiroth had encountered. He should have seen it coming. However…one could not really know when they were going to be tested. Randomized tests of character either made, or broke, a person. And for Cloud, it was part of the latter.

His mother had been a twisted version of herself. Her clothes were made of flames, and they blanketed her, the way that a gown would a Queen, with ruffles and pointed tongues of fire. It threatened to touch him, to caress him, in a grim mockery of how she had been when he was young. She was nothing more than a caricature of course…they all were, the things he had been forced to experience. However, they had terrified him.

And once again, Sephiroth had been there, to clean up the mess that he had started. Masamune killed the thing, the monster, and he had taken him in his arms, out of that Hell. They had tripped into some sort of perverse reality, an antagonistic world where kind and familiar faces assumed the forms of beasts. It should have been easy, a cake walk. However…it was not.

For him, the fear was lodged deep in his body. Not by the faces of what he had seen, or from the monstrous forms of what his friends and mother had become. It was about what they were telling him as he was trying to fight them.

Sephiroth had been engaged as well, swinging his blade at real things that only he could see, so he had not heard some of the things that those…creatures had told him.

Aeris had been screaming at him, screaming as he destroyed her that he was useless. She told him that he should have known that Sephiroth was planning some sort of horrible attack on her, all because she was the only one who could truly stop Meteor from crashing into the Planet. She had yelled, how could he let her die?

Zack…that was one of the worst. Where there had only been kindness and complete understanding from Zack, where he had been in the Promised Land, there was the exact opposite. As the thing smiled cruelly to him, there was nothing but a sharp crack, and the face fell apart, in fragments and fabrications. He had no jaw now, no anything below his lips.

Still, it managed to talk. “Still want to be in SOLDIER, you weak little thing? How? You are the reason that the Planet almost died, twice over. You failed to complete the job…friend.” He had spat the words, almost as if they had a foul taste on his tongue just by speaking them. The Zack caricature walked over to him, and blood flowed freely, though it was obvious that the body itself was dead. Was it some sort of zombie? Cloud would have laughed had the situation not been so dire.

“I TRUSTED YOU! And what did you do…you hit on the woman I loved. And let’s not forget you giving Sephiroth the black materia!” Zack approached him, knees bent, and hands pointed, almost as if he were trying to gage when the best time would be for him to attack. “You’re not a hero. You’re nothing but a mistake, a stain. If I could, I would reach through time and prevent you from being born. A waste of skin, of space. You are useless, Cloud Strife.”

After that encounter, things got a little hazy. He remembered managing to hack the thing to pieces, taking out the face and mouth first. He did this just so that he could silence the words, though long after the thing was dead, the words remained. They rang in his head, like some sort of mocking rhapsody, telling him again and again that he was useless. That was his fear, he knew that right then. He hated feeling as if he was of no use to anyone.

His mother appearing had barely given him a chance to react. She smiled to him, and groped at him with pockets of black sores for hands, as if beckoning for him to give her a hug, for old time’s sake. Men embraced their mothers of course…however, this was not his mother. He had to kill her, the thing that looked like his mother. It should have been easy. All he had to do was summon up the rage and disgust at having this…vile atrocity assume the form of his mother. Was nothing sacred anymore? Though…like he knew, things were never that simple.

For whatever reason, all he had managed to do was behead her. He finished her, yes, for the body had stopped moving. Though, if there was one thing he had learned, long before he had taken up the role of the Buster Sword’s wielder, it was always best to give things an extra stab or two, or hack them to pieces, for good measure. One never could be too sure if something was about to get up and walk again.

To his shame, he couldn’t do it though. Sephiroth had been there, as usual, to save him from the things that he had not the strength to do himself. He had been sick, throwing up everything in his stomach from the meal before hand, and after wards, he could not walk. This was pathetic! If anything, he was proving these awful demons and monsters that he was nothing but a crippled young thing that could not stand on his own. Which was exactly what they wanted.

Sephiroth helped him to his feet, and they had run out of there as if their lives depended on it. Which, coincidently, they did. The man had to pick him up, and after a moment of gut wrenching anxiety, they reached a safe place. The hollow of a tree had been their refuge, and after he had about tore his face off from trying to get the blood stains off, Sephiroth cleaned it for him. Damn. Couldn’t he get anything right?

This was no time for self pity he knew. But he was downright pitiable! What man would be so shell-shocked, that they could not kill something that assumed the form of their mother? And friends for that matter, but that was another story. He was. He was that man, the statistic. It was as if, all of a sudden, he had become a much weaker version of himself.

And the nightmare…it only proved to show that he was now terrified of Sephiroth turning on him as well. He had been defenseless in the dream as well, and that was personified by the knives that had been Sephiroth’s wing feathers. None of it was real though…but it was so literal. The bite of the spikes behind him had been so real, he wanted to check his back for the marks that they left. His arms were still attached to him, as were his legs. His skin was not black, poisoned like the Geostigma that had come from Sephiroth’s touch. All the dream had been was a clear personification of his fears, come to life.

Cloud looked out of the hollow of the tree, and wondered if Sephiroth was out hunting. He really should not have been doing that, despite how he insinuated that he was perfectly fine now. He would look at the wound later. Upon that thought, he looked at his right arm, the arm that had taken a beating at the claws of that vile, bleached spine creature. That had seemed so long ago compared to right now. How long had he even been in this land anyways?

He looked to his arm, and saw faint pink marks on the skin. It might scar, but it showed him that this was what he had conquered. Scars were stories, tales that spoke of valor and a bravery that was buried deep in the hearts of warriors. This scar showed that at one time, he had been brave enough to step up, when Sephiroth had fallen down. That had been one time though! Now…he was nothing more than a failure.

Cloud stood up, and looked to the stream. That stream had been a constant in this insane, never ending journey it seemed, water that cleansed, purified, and still managed to taste good. He walked out of the hollow of the tree, and looked to his right, up at the sky. It was still so beautiful, raked strips of light that were pouring through, urging him and his companion on. He had to go on, he just had to.

Though…how could he possibly be expected to go on, if he was nothing but a weak man who could not finish what he started? His “mother” could have died by his hand. But he had only seen the outward appearance, and had thought that in some twisted world, that was still his mother. What son could kill their own mother, even if she assumed the form of a demon? A truly wretched son, that was who. It might have been that inner taboo that fueled his actions. Though, that was just him trying to make up for his weakness.

Cloud let a small sigh escape his lips. He bowed his head, and he looked into the stream. Sephiroth was not around, so he might as well bathe really quickly. He really didn’t want the object of his infatuation to see him without clothing, for right then, it was his only armor.

He stripped quickly, and plunged into the water. Then, he dunked his head. He scrubbed at his head, hating the scratchy feeling of his scalp right then. He felt so dirty, as if he could never be clean. It was as if Geostigma had filtered into his veins, corroding them and turning them black, black and dead.

‘It was only a dream.’ Yes, it was only a dream. A dream that had managed to reveal all of his fears. A lot of people spent their entire lives searching for what they were truly afraid of. For Cloud, he understood now what that fear was. He feared being useless and unable to help anyone. He was their protector, for he had been in that Mako Reactor for Goddess knew how long, and he had gained abilities from it. He was stronger, faster, and more embodied than everyone else with years of training. Though, it was all because of his mistake once again, at thinking that checking out the reactor was a good idea. He wondered if Mt. Nibel was still standing, or if it was ashes, the way that that bastard mountain town had been.

The blonde haired male scrubbed at his skin, rubbing his arms until they felt clean. Somehow, the dream had made him feel violated, as if insects were allowed to crawl underneath his skin, and laid their eggs in his veins. Goddess, he was so pathetic! Cloud smacked at the water then, as if to clear his head from his thoughts. He was going to have to do a lot more than hit a curtain of water to clear his mind though. Nothing was ever that easy.

He swished out his mouth several times with water, for he could still feel the lingering traces of bile in his mouth. It was leftover shame, what was left of his weakness. Never again. If there were ten of those caricatures surrounding him right then, he would kill them all with his bare hands if he had to. Never again. He would never succumb to that weak thing that he hated. Somehow…he would prove that those voices were wrong.

The thought was comforting, but for right now, all he felt like doing was grieving. There was no death, but the death of his strength. And that was worthy of feeling like shit over.

Cloud quickly put his clothes on, not caring that he didn’t clean them. Right now, he wanted cloth, something over his skin for comfort. He had never enjoyed being in the nude anyways. This clothing, this dark attire, was armor. It shielded him from all of the flaws on his insides. If others were allowed to see him without clothing, it was shameful to him. He felt as if they could hold an X-ray to him, and see the weakness beneath his bones, the frailty of his heart. Hell, that was one of the reasons why he was so callous sometimes, and bent on keeping people out.

Though, oblivion, and this dark limbo could change all of that. Now, for whatever reason, he felt weaker than ever, even with clothing on. He felt as if he had failed his mother, Aeris, Zack, and above all, himself. His mother and friends did not deserve to have their images and likeness skewered like that, halved and forced to resurrect as demons. They were safe in the Promised Land however, of that he knew for certain. Though, it was only because they had been duplicated in the faces of hellish ghouls did he feel like he was a failure. It was as if he had allowed it to happen, allowed for the pure souls of his friends and mothers be tainted.

Cloud looked up to the tree, and began gathering fire wood. This was also pathetic. He had to make himself do something useful, something that would benefit both himself and Sephiroth so not to feel useless. It was like some sort of never ending cycle, one that Cloud wanted to break. He felt as if he were some sort of mouse in an ever roving labyrinth, one that changed directions every other minute. He wanted to halt now, rest, and figure out which way could have been the exit. Could a man be placed in such a world, and emerge with their sanity intact? What could be gained from oblivion?

He gathered a small arm full of wood, and arranged it on the ground, like he had dozens of times before. If Sephiroth was hunting, then the least he could do was make the damn fire. All it took was a bit of flint, some hair, and breath, and a spark was created, bursting to life on the embers that he himself had made. It was as if he was some sort of control freak, one that needed to know that he was useful, and that something could not exist without him. Hell, it was one of the reasons why he often visited Aeris’s garden, and had made that his home during the time he was infected with Geostigma. He had left to find a cure, only to find that his left arm erupted in the sickness, the black and rotting, mind numbing pain of it all.

Aeris had taught him to care for the flowers, and it came as second nature to him then, caring for the white and yellow lilies. All he had to do was look at the blossoms, and see that none of them were cracked and yellowed with age, withering away. If any of them were, all he had to do was hold the stem, and pick the blossom off. If one pulled it from the root, the flower would not grow back. There was no sense in killing something that could have easily been reborn as something even more beautiful. The lily blossom would grow back, eventually. Everything took time.

But this was not about flowers! This was about his own lack of strength. Cloud watched the dance of the fire on his eyes, and he wondered if Zack would appear suddenly, telling him that he had to believe in himself. Or maybe Genesis or Angeal would come up, and say that they both had issues with their own security, until they just lived. Maybe. But they had all been oddly silent, the same way that they had been when he and Sephiroth were attacked the first time. He could feel that he was on his own now, completely.

“How are you feeling?” The voice was so sudden and so unexpected, Cloud jumped a foot in the air before he registered that it was only Sephiroth. Cloud looked to the two rabbit like things he held in one hand, and in the other, he held a huge branch of what looked like strawberries. Berries. Dammit! He could have looked around for food while Sephiroth was hunting, looking for something to counterbalance the meat with. Once again, he failed the man, and himself as well. It was only berries he realized. But in his fragile state of mind, it was enough to make his head bow in shame.

“I-I’m better.” Shiva fucking Leviathan dammit, why did his voice have to have that tremor in it? It was further proof that he was not who he once was. Could a ghastly encounter really affect him that much?

Sephiroth set down the rabbits, and began skinning them with the sharp edge of…something. Cloud blinked twice, and looked to the thing that Sephiroth was using. It looked suspiciously like the talon that had once been protruding from his torso, in that awful hour.

“Seph…iroth. Is that the talon that nearly killed you?” For whatever reason, Cloud did not feel the need to bastardize Sephiroth’s name by calling him “Seph.” That was for those that earned the right to nickname their friends. And love interests.

Sephiroth looked up at him, and for a moment, gentleness came over his usually placid features. His eyes looked like they were glowing, as if he saw something precious in his sight. It was not for him. He could not even think like that. “Yes, it is. I like having it with me. It has its uses. Also, it tells me that I survived that day. It is good to have souvenirs.” That was a very interesting way of putting it. He was turning what had nearly killed him into something useful…he could learn from that.

Cloud realized that he had been staring intently at Sephiroth for what had seemed like twelve eternity’s. Was he that scared of what had happened that he could barely come up with coherent sentences? It appeared so.

Finally, he came up with something. “That’s…that’s nice.” He balled his hand into a fist, and he wondered, for the thousandth time that morning-evening-night, what the Hell was wrong with him. He really needed to get his head checked, and get out of this state of mind. He was stronger than this, he knew that. But if anything, that last horror fest had proved that he was once again, playing pretend. He was not strong.

Sephiroth sighed so loud, it stopped his thoughts. Hell, everything the man did caused all of his thoughts turn to shambles, fragments. “Cloud, tell me what’s wrong. You are obviously not better.” He looked at him, and with the light of the fire, he might as well have been bathed in emerald moonlight, eyes that he could drown, die, and get reborn once again in. A green phoenix. “Please…tell me what’s wrong.”

Cloud gripped a stick, and began poking at some of the cooking rabbit meat. It was too pathetic. Something’s just should be left to silence, especially this. He didn’t want to fall into self pity. Though, a voice told him, it was too late to stop falling.

‘Just talk. There’s no sense keeping things under wraps.’ Cloud threw the stick down, and turned to Sephiroth. Anger seized him then, anger aimed at himself, and anger for the useless thing he had become. “You really want to know? Sephiroth…I am fucking useless! Out there, in that Hell we faced…I could barely manage to kill those things! They were not Aeris, Zack or my mother…and yet, it was hard! That’s pathetic! I should have been so angry that they assumed their forms…but I could barely look at them without being sick! Now you tell me: what kind of man could possibly feel of use when he couldn’t even finish what he started?” Cloud blinked twice, and to his internal horror, two tears fell from his eyes. He wiped at his eyes hastily, praying that Sephiroth had not seen this. This was again, another pathetic display. Weak. He was weak, a puppet to his own fears.

Sephiroth looked at him calmly, but a slight shock came to his eyes when he began yelling the way that he had. Great. Now he thought that he was mad at him. This was no pathetic soap opera, with a clichéd plot and biased characters. This was his life, a black limbo, a past enemy turned love interest, and himself.

Mako eyes met his own, and Cloud knew that they had missed nothing. “There’s more, isn’t there? I came here, with our meal, and you seemed to be…terrified of me. Why is that?”

Cloud balled his hand into a fist. His nightmare…did he really have to tell him about that? He certainly could not tell him that he had been dreaming of kissing him blind and stupid…but the horror part, that he could say. If he did, Sephiroth would feel awful though. And since he was useless now, all he had left to go on was sparing someone else what he now felt.

“There’s nothing else. Really…I just feel so humiliated. And you had to carry me out of there, as if I could not stand on my own two feet. I am so…ashamed.” That was it. He was so ashamed of his behavior. A lot of men had a lot of understanding with horror, and with grappling with their fears. They managed to conquer them after much time spent getting used to them, and accepting that fear was necessary.

Though, for those who had only a glimpse of this terror, it was much harder for them. He was that type of man. One would have thought that being locked away in a Mako Reactor for four years would have instilled a lot of bravery in him. No. He was just a little boy, groping for some shred of light in the dark world he was forced into.

Cloud sensed that Sephiroth had scooted closer to him, but he couldn’t meet the man’s eyes. How could he? After all that they had been through together, through their bullshit fights, fighting on the ground, and bantering…he just couldn’t get past this. He felt like a failure.

“Cloud.” Sephiroth gripped his shoulders, and shook him three times. “Snap out of it.” Sephiroth tipped his chin upwards, to where he had no choice but to look at him. Great Shiva, he was undeniable. “Do not think, for one moment, or for even half of an instant that you are useless, or a failure. You have nothing to be ashamed of right now. You did not freeze up. You managed to kill the thing that looked like your mother, and the demons that assumed the forms of your friends. Yes, you got sick. Yes, you couldn’t finish the job at the end. But so what?” Sephiroth broke eye contact for a moment, almost as if he was toying with his own thoughts, and what words could help him. Then, his eyes rose again, and Cloud was bound to them, a lifeless thing, floating around in Mako, in gentle jade oculars. “Cloud, if anything, you have proved your worth, your use, and your strength millions of times over. You saved the Planet three times. You eliminated most of the monsters that roamed the world, when there was cause for it. You face this oblivion every day, and you never seem anything but determined. You’re the brave one, the strong one.”

Cloud felt something clench his chest then, a clawed hand around his heart. It was pain, and his shame, threatening to spill over the surface once again. Was all of that true? Yes, he had saved the Planet, but only because he felt guilty for putting it in that way in the first place.

As if Sephiroth could read his thoughts-for at one time, he could-he answered him. “Cloud. You are not responsible for putting the Planet in such a state. That was ShinRa’s doing, and my own. I thought, in my madness, that I was avenging my mother.” He said this with such animosity, Cloud trembled. He would have hated to be Jenova right then. “If anything…you have a history of setting wrongs right. Even here. You conquered your fear, time and again. You gained wings, and the power to light up this pitiful world.” Sephiroth caught his eye, and there was intensity there, something that Cloud never thought that he would get to see. Was it for him? Or just to help his words? “You are far better than I am, or ever will be. You are stronger than I am, mentally and physically…and I admit that.” He lowered his head then, as if he were bowing to him. What was this? Had he hit his head a little too hard in the hollow of that tree, and he was now seeing visions because of it?

“Sephiroth…you don’t have to do that.” Cloud brought Sephiroth’s head up, to where he could catch his eye. They were so close now. By a centimeter or two, he would have Sephiroth’s lips in his own. But it could not be right now. Besides…what would that say about him? The timing was all wrong anyhow. “And…thank you. That was…nice of you to say.” There was still pain in his heart, pain that he had to find a way to overcome. Acceptance never came easily. “Next time…I think I’ll be a little better.” They certainly were talking a lot. Had he been who he once was, he never, ever would have even spoken, or admitted this much to anyone, much less Sephiroth. The world was different now, as was he. But he still had a lot of changing to do, and ghosts to conquer. “And…there was something else.”

Briefly, Cloud told him about the nightmare he had experienced, and how he had woken up in a cold sweat because of it. He knew that it would cause the man extreme guilt…but it had to be spoken. Words had to be spoken, for it was far the more dangerous to have secrets. In the dark, there could be no secrets, for the sake of sanity. Besides…if he claimed he loved Sephiroth-of which, he had to do something about soon-then he had to be honest. Even if the truth was brutal, it was better than bitter silence.

Once he was done, Sephiroth spoke. “Cloud…I’d never do that to you. I want you to know that right now. If I did…then you have my permission to kill me.” Cloud’s eyes widened. What the Hell was he saying? “I would much rather die, than live through Jenova’s control, or the relapse of my sanity. Just take your hand, and plunge something through my heart. I don’t want to hurt you again, or fail you.” He sounded so calm, so deathly serious. It was beyond belief, but it had to be believed, for it was happening.

Cloud found his voice after a moment. “Sephiroth…you have my word. I will…kill you if you get out of control again. Though, I’ll stop you if that happens. I swear it. Besides, Jenova has no control over you know, since you are perceived as being dead.” Cloud began tearing apart the meat, and he shoved a few pieces in his mouth, considering his options. He felt better, but there was still heartache. It would lessen with time. For, by this man’s lips and words, he was of use. He wanted to be a good example for Sephiroth, as wild as that was to admit to himself, as well as a good example for himself. He would get through this. The time for self pity was over, and time lost by bullshit could never come back.

Perhaps now was the time to ask him about something. There was this nagging voice in the back of his mind, a voice that told him that the lost time that had been his, while he was terrified and freaking out, something had happened. He remembered it now, and it brought a flush to his face.

“Sephiroth…I was having trouble breathing, wasn’t I? And you…gave me your air?” Yes, he remembered it now, clear as the day that he was not permitted to see yet.

Sephiroth stopped eating then, as if something had made him a little too stunned to chew. “Yes. I gave you my air. You were practically hyperventilating. I saw that a lot on the battle field, especially in Wutai. I didn’t want you to go into shock. Besides, you’re the light here, Strife. I can’t have you brain damaged.”

The words were so unexpected coming out of Sephiroth’s mouth, that Cloud practically inhaled a strawberry. He coughed, sputtered, and laughed a little. Once he calmed down, denied the Heimlich, and said that he was fine, he spoke again. “Sephiroth…you’re actually very funny when you want to be. I hope you know that. You’re so different from who you once were. Something has changed you.” Cloud felt his heart beating in his ears, the blood roaring, longing to be fulfilled. His hands longed to touch warm skin. His mouth longed to dance across diamond lips, Sephiroth’s lips. And above all…he wanted to make love to him.

Cloud bit down on his lip, and thought of some sort of buzz kill to quell his steadily growing erection. Barrett in a tight leather suit. Red XIII at a tea party with Marlene. He must have been going insane, that was for certain. Though, love, and the attraction one has for someone always makes someone go a little mad.

Sephiroth chuckled a little, but it held no bitterness or resentment. “Not just something, Cloud. I had to change, for this is a place that demands only the best of men. The mad, Jenova infused thing I used to be had no place here. Demons and monsters only make the dark more sinister.” He looked to the sky, as if he were asking the strips of light how they were there, and how they allowed themselves to shine on such a creature as him. The moment passed, and Cloud saw a myriad of emotions flicker through Sephiroth’s face. “Someone inspired this change.”

Cloud felt his heart skip a few beats. Pretty soon, he would be going into cardiac arrest if Sephiroth kept looking at him like this. Didn’t he see what he did to him? His hands were shaking, knocking against themselves now, that he was forced to steady them on his legs. The body always gave the heart away, and the tongue always disobeyed the mind. He gripped a strawberry, and tried to busy himself with eating it. However, that was not how Fate wanted it. Cloud bit on the berry so hard, he bit his lip. He cursed and sucked on his bottom lip, feeling a steady flow of blood enter his mouth. Damn, he was a lovesick fool.

Sephiroth chuckled. “It appears I must spell it out for you.” The man suddenly was so close, and before Cloud knew it, he was running one finger over Cloud’s broken lip. “You’re the reason I changed. Now, I look up to you, the way that you once idolized me. If that is alright.” He sucked on his index finger then, and gently used it to clean away some of the blood on Cloud’s lip. Cloud, right then, was in some sort of delirium. Sephiroth was so close, he could practically taste him in his mouth. What would he taste like? Berries? Or something fresh, the purity that he wanted to be so badly. He was better now, a man who still wanted salvation and had a ways to go with it…but he was something undeniably innocent. Hell, he even asked if it was alright if he idolized him!

Cloud licked his lips once, and managed a nod. “Y-yes. It’s fine if you look up to me…it’s just weird.” Cloud figured he should explain before Sephiroth thought that he was instigating him, or took offense. “It’s just that, I wanted to be like you. And now, it’s the other way around. I thought nothing could be gained from this place. I thought it to be a wasteland, but in a sense…we are provided for. We can hunt, and find berries. There’s pure water. If anything…it’s a brilliant limbo.” Cloud felt dizzy all of a sudden, but he knew the conduct. It was because Sephiroth was literally hovering over him, the way bees flock to pollen.

Sephiroth managed a small smile, but it was one of the most beautiful things that Cloud had ever seen. A flush rose to his cheeks, and he knew Sephiroth could see it. So be it. When you love something, even if it seems in vain, there is no need to hide. Not anymore. “Well put Cloud.” He stood up suddenly, and tousled his hair, the way that Zack sometimes used to do. It was so affectionate, and so unexpected, Cloud practically fell over. From the follicles of his hair, to the top of his spikes, he experienced something that of sticking his hand on a broken electric cable. Sparks were all over him, and the hairs on his arms stood on end, goose bumps rising. His eyes were dilating he knew, for he was in love. That was the sign he knew, if someone cared for another intimately.

Said love interest cupped his hands in the stream, and brought over some water in his cupped palms. “This is going to be awkward. But I swore I would protect you, be it from phantom or infection. Put your mouth in this water, and the components of it will wash out your cut.” Cloud understood. It would just entail him to put his mouth in Sephiroth’s hands. In a sense, since Sephiroth drank from his cupped hands a lot…he was kissing him.

Cloud positioned himself by Sephiroth’s hands, and did just that. His lip tingled a little, for it was like hydrogen peroxide, or some sort of medical ingredient used to cure infection. He gripped the man’s hands gently, and shut his eyes. Behind his lids, he was kissing Sephiroth wildly. He had thrown him to the ground, side straddled him, and was giving his lips much needed attention. His hands were being entwined in his hair, in the warmth of his neck. The image was so vivid, it might as well have been branded behind the lids.

He raised his head, pressed his lips together, and thanked Sephiroth. Quickly, both men prepared themselves for travel, both mentally and physically, for they knew that that was not the only trial they would be forced to endure.

As they walked, Cloud thought of two things. “Sephiroth…thanks for putting up with me. I just…I’ve always hated feeling of little use. It won’t happen again.” A hand came to his shoulder, and Cloud looked to it. Sephiroth had stopped him in mid stride, and was shaking his head.

“Strife, even if it does, so what? It is not like you haven’t dealt with me this entire time. I’ll protect you, because I know you would do the same for me. We have an agreement here, a pretty good one. You are of use. You are a good man, Cloud Strife, and don’t let your doubts tell you otherwise.”

Cloud bit down on the inside of his mouth. Well, this was certainly different! If anything, this was just another admirable quality Sephiroth had acquired. He bestowed wisdom to him, from his own nine odd some years of worldly experience that he didn’t have. He would protect him, for he had done it twice, if not many more times. “You’re right. I have dealt with you this entire time.” Gently, he shoved Sephiroth off of him, though what he really wanted, was to tackle this smoldering man to the ground, and ravish him until he screamed his name. He was never known for being a sexual creature however. Oblivion changed a lot of things it seemed. “Still…thank you. Ditto. I’ll protect you as well.” He paused for effect, and then broke out laughing. “Also…you must really like stealing kisses from me or something. That was the second time your mouth has been on mine.” The flustered look on Sephiroth’s face made Cloud bust into laughter. He really was amusing, and he more than likely had had a sense of humor on Gaia. No one had just bothered to look.

Sephiroth gave a little “Humph” and walked forward. “Well, if you like dying so much, let me know next time.”

Cloud shook his head, and felt dizzy all over again. He was bantering with him, flirting, teasing. And it felt…right somehow. He was not a sinner for feeling this way, nor was he any less of a man for feeling like this for another male.

He jogged to catch up with him, and when he saw Sephiroth looking up at the sky, at the strips of yellow light that poured through, he stopped too. Sephiroth turned around, and with the way that the faint yet strong glow was coming from the skies, he looked like some sort of…angel. That had been one of his names on the Planet, the One Winged Angel. Now, he really was redeeming himself. Maybe soon, he would get wings too.

He was beautiful, outlined in gold. His beauty was no longer something icy, a frozen cruelty beneath those perfect features. Now, he was something inviting. He smiled more often, laughed-dear Shiva, laughed!-and was pleasant. Whoever said that nothing could be gained in a seeming wasteland and oblivion obviously needed their mind checked. It was supposed to be a life lesson, some sort of teaching in small mindedness. Cloud knew he had been wrong, so wrong in his absolute hatred and bigotry of this man. He acknowledged it, accepted it, and was in the midst of dealing with the other side of hate: love.

Sephiroth caught his eye, and smirked. “What took you so long?”

Cloud shook his head. Once again, he was accused of being slow. He would show him just how fast he could be. He ran forward, tapped Sephiroth’s arm, and shouted “Tag!”

Both men took off, as fast as their legs could carry them. The lights around them seemed to shimmer and scintillate, as if the sun from that unknown place wanted to bless their race. Nothing bad would happen now, despite what happened the last time that they raced. It was only friendly rivalry, but it was enough to get both men’s hearts pumping, stimulated by purpose itself.

Sephiroth managed to tap him on the shoulder, and Cloud admitted defeat.

“Best two out of three? Besides, I let you win.” Sephiroth chuckled, and looked directly ahead for a moment. His eyes widened, and Cloud wondered if once again, like the race from yesterday, they would have to endure something once more.

“Cloud…look.” Cloud looked, and saw that there was a huge…cliff right in front of them. It ran directly across the land, cutting into it like a scar. “Do we climb it?”

Cloud looked upwards, and saw that it ran so far up, that even with the light from his skin and the strips of sunlight combined, he could not see where it ended. Then, a thought seized him, and in his mind, he praised the Goddess.

“No. We fly.” Cloud gripped Sephiroth in his arms, and with one breath of his lungs, his wings emerged from his back. He beat them three times to warm them up, and with a nod to the one he loved, he took to the skies. The mountains they would have to conquer would be both physical and mental it seemed.

But one thing was for certain: Cloud was of use, and he would always be. Never again would he think otherwise. There was no time to think that he wasn’t. There were old friends to see, and oblivions to conquer after all.