Ceaseless Oblivion

Brittany Land, thank you for enjoying this! The next chapter is…right now! ^-^ And of course Jastiss Jade, I always reply to reviewers in my authors note! Thank you for saying I compiled things nicely in all of one chapter, I was going for the chaos effect in a sense. And…if I typed in class, I would be making all of these faces in class, and my professors would want to know why I looked so…distraught and turned on all at once. Nah! Sephcounttheways, you spoil me with your words! Saying you hit the fanfiction jackpot made me so happy and proud of myself, thank you so much! And as for your comment about what Cloud should have said…believe me, things are going to get hot within a few chapters. *winks* Thank you once again for your comments!

The healing process begins for Cloud in this chapter, and it will only take a little while. Remember, Sephiroth healed within 4-6 chapters, and the same will be said for Cloud. I hate beating up on this poor man…but I think it suits the purpose of building up Cloud once again. I feel as if I am an army general of sorts, breaking my men and then building them into the soldiers they can be. That is the perfect personification of what I am trying to do with these characters, and my other fifty million stories it seems. Thank you for your patience and your love for this story, every single one of you who is reading my words. ^-^

Something about the soon to be smut: I am a firm believe that 99% of the fanfics that put Cloud as the submitter in the relationship are FALSE! I have seen a few doushins where Cloud is either raped(don't get me started on how repulsed I am by that) or openly obeys Sephiroth in the bedroom. Two words to that: Hell no. Cloud, in my mind and how I visualize him, would NEVER let Sephiroth do such things to him without being the one on top first. They can battle back and forth and switch off in their roles, but one sole man is never the only dominant one in this relationship. They are equals in this story, and the daydream that Cloud has in here demonstrates this reasoning. Just for a forewarning.

Songs for this chapter: Signal Fire by Snow Patrol. That is…the most adorable song ever! It reminds me of how Cloud thinks of Sephiroth now, and looks back on his life with some regret, but he is looking forward to changing it, and breaking his waiting for making a move on Sephiroth. Broken by Lifehouse works as well, for in this chapter, Cloud is really hurting from his injuries, and Sephiroth is helping him through what he has been forced to experience. And of course, Tangled Up In You by Staind for the ending, I want to personally shake the members of that bands hands, for they are pure poets with their lyrics. ^-^

Chapter is rated M for Cloud's dirty mind and a backrub. *whistles* that is all…for now, anyways.

I own nothing. If I did…the thought I had while working out would come true. It involved Angeal as my personal trainer, a magazine on guns that I stole from Vincent, and a very amused Genesis. Ahem. ^_^


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He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has. ~Epictetus

There were some lives that were destined to never know hardship. These were the lucky ones, the humans and creatures that got by on their strength, beauty, and charm to have an existence in the world. Everything was handed to them on a silver platter, lined with gold along the edges, gems encrusting the surface of said plate. They were privileged with not knowing distress, with not knowing how harsh and cold reality could be.

Cloud was never one of these people. Everything that he ever had he was subjected to struggle for, just to scrape by at times. The only reason he had made it to a certain training area in SOLDIER was because he worked out until he sweated blood. Certain lives had favoritism on them, but he was never one of them. He was slight of build, small for his size, and because of his once country backwoods drawl, not a lot of people wanted to be his friend. That was fine, for he had understood that in order to become a hero, sometimes you needed to be alone.

Hardship after hardship he suffered through, from being a failed experiment to Professor Hojo with Zack as his main source of strength. SOLDIER was then a thing of the past, for he had barely scraped by as some pathetic and shy cadet. He was a young man who already felt like, in his soul, he was eighty years of age with all that he had been forced to endure.

That being said, if his life had been so terrible, he should have known that there were worse things on their way. Sephiroth, his once hero and idol, the man who he would have worshipped had he been some sort of deity outside of the battlefield, had transformed in front of his eyes. Before, he had been some sort of a powerhouse of strength and stability, a guardian angel to all of the men that he was in charge of protecting. He saved hundreds of lives in Wutai, and he was a national hero. His face was everywhere, for ShinRa wanted recruits for their own uses and selfish reasons. Now, he felt sick for falling for their lies about changing the world and improving the Planet's health. It was nothing more than propaganda that brainwashed the youth into thinking that through proper training, they could all be heroes.

Cloud hated to break it to them, but all SOLDIER and ShinRa had wanted at the time was bodies, soldiers and dispensable parts that would create killing machines. All of the SOLDIER's, unless they were 1st Class Commanders, all had to wear masks. The plates of steel covered their features, and if one looked at them closely, there was no difference between a man and an android. They were wind up toys at best, and they would be thrown mercilessly into some sort of proverbial toy chest once SOLDIER was done picking them apart. It was the way that dystopia worked, the world in which he had lived in.

All of this he had thought about for one reason: because for right now, for the first time in his life, he felt lucky. Lady Luck as Cid Highwind had put it once, was never on his side. Though, if he thought about it, there were times when he should have died, that he had been spared. Yazoo had shot him clear through his chest, and he had been on his way to the Promised Land, floating and spiraling in a white darkness. Though, Aeris had healed him, for it was not his time yet. He had awoken to the sound of swishing liquid, and found that the healing water Aeris had used to cure the Stigma was in a pool, in her beloved Church. He had been saved.

And now, even though he was not technically alive by normal standards, he was still very much living. For that, he was thankful. He never thought that he would be, for he would have preferred death ten times over, and several trips to Hell's Pit itself, as compared to this forced truce he and Sephiroth had been ushered into. Though, that was before he realized that there was a plan behind all of it. There was, in a sense, a method to the Goddess's madness.

Besides, he was in too much pain to not be considered one of the living.

From the moment he opened his eyes, everything hurt. Every muscle seemed to be stretched out, elongating within his skin, the bones shifting and popping underneath muscle. If that damn lizard things purpose was to cause him the maximum amount of pain possible, then it had succeeded.

Cloud opened his eyes, and looked to his skin for the light. It was surprisingly faint, wavering with his movements, as if there were some sort of blue flame beneath his skin that moved with him. The light had become a part of him now…and to see that it was not glowing so brightly as before was disconcerting. He blinked twice, and saw that a huge cluster of trees was to his back, and he was lying against the bark of a particularly tall tree, with his injured leg stretched out before him.

The memory of what had occurred came back at blinding speed, and within the time he lifted his head, he remembered it all.


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He and Sephiroth had been sparring, and things were getting…heated between the two of them. He had heard women talk about when they liked someone, it was hard to not touch the man that they enjoyed the company of. Was that what was happening? Well, yes, for he loved the man. The more he said that in his mind, the more real it got. He just had to figure out something to do about this insane attraction and thrall. And actions spoke louder and rang truer than words could ever dare.

Every time his hands brushed Sephiroth's bare skin, a pulse ran through his body. His heart pounded in his ears, an angry and violent drum, telling him to do something. And he would have. Cloud knew that, had he been given the opportunity, he would have released Sephiroth from the chokehold he had put him in, and threw the man to the ground, hell bent on claiming those lips for his own. It was spontaneous, and maybe a little ill timed…but the moment had seemed right.

Sadly, he had been wrong. The premonition of being watched had been the grim truth, and within moments, the land was under attack. Three hell dragons circled the heavens, and from their bodies, children were produced. They hatched, screeched, and snapped at any who dared get close to them, protecting their twins and siblings. Though, it was either kill or be killed.

Now Cloud understood why the Goddess had given him wings, above all other things. She had wanted him to have a means of fighting back against the creatures that meant him and Sephiroth harm. Also, there was no way that he and Sephiroth could have faced that towering cliff if one of them had not had instruments of flight at their beck and call. He and Sephiroth would still have been climbing with their bare hands up the face of the cliff if he did not have such a blessing. Also, the dragon like monsters never would have been killed had he not had such gifts. Once, he had not understood what the purpose was behind the wings. He had fancied them decorations of sorts, pretty little things on his back that he never would have used. For, if he had tried to fly, then he would have accepted that things were different, and he had to rely on the help of a Goddess who had forced him into a back breaking situation.

How wrong he had been. If anything…this was the best thing that had happened to him. Yes, he faced trials day in and day out, and was forced to rely on the mercy of the land for food. Though, in a sense, the land was enchanted. Early on in the journey, aureate wings had crossed the expanse of the sky, glittering like a tossing of gold coins. It signified their dawn in a sense, up until the sky was torn to shreds, exposing endless light. It lit up part of the land, the way that the sunlight filtered through a gathering of storm clouds. Things were lit up now, from some unknown place. And the stream let his body get washed, as well as hydrated. He would have died long ago if not for the water. Plus, there were healing properties in said stream, and it helped cure him of infection twice before. Maybe things were not as hard as he had once believed.

He now knew his responsibility: he would protect the sky, and Sephiroth would take care of the little monsters that were littering the land.

"Sephiroth. I'll take out the parents, and you deal with the little ones. Don't take unnecessary risks." Jade eyes had bored into his skull, and Cloud wondered if Sephiroth's mind reading abilities were still there, beneath the surface. Though, if Sephiroth knew his thoughts, he would have done something a long time ago he knew.

"And if you need help, ask for it Cloud. Come back alive." To this, he nodded. He would live…for he still had much to do. He wouldn't let a run in with monsters interfere with his plan.

His wings thrust to the heavens, and he was met with one of the most hideous things he had ever seen. The Bahamut SIN had been bad…but this was ten times uglier. Crimson spines and scales covered the creature's bodies, glittering like filthy rubies in the light. There were horns on their heads, and bits of skin that revealed a caricature of a muzzle around their throats. Their arms were huge, and there were three talons on each of their limbs, which would catch, snatch and slice him apart if he gave them an opening. He would do no such thing.

Cloud charged at one, lifted the Buster, and cleaved it to pieces. He dodged vicious black flame, snapping jaws, and managed to cut off its tongue. The thing howled in internal agony, and while it roared, Cloud impaled it through its brain, chest, and slashed at its limbs. It fell to the ground, and Cloud snuck a glance at the earth while the two other parents were mourning the loss of their mate.

Sephiroth was spinning the Masamune faster than the eye could see, and he was leaving a trail of devastation wherever he walked. It was good devastation though, constructive killing that would ensure his own safety. For, he was fighting to keep himself alive, as well as himself. This was why he had once been praised a hero: because of his tireless pursuit to kill those who meant others harm. This was not the battle or killings of a man who wanted something for himself. This was the battle of a man who had realized that in order to be vindicated, he had to put his strength and energies for another cause, a purer one. And that was to escape this land, and finally be at a resting place.

All of his moves seemed to come from a higher plane of justification. His hands gripped the blade, but he was not a weapon. If anything, he was a protecting knife, a scythe that would reign down justice as he saw fit on these creatures that meant him harm. He killed to survive, as well as to find inner clarity. And it was one of the most beautiful things Cloud had ever seen.

Still, this was hardly the time to gawk at him. Cloud focused his attentions on the monsters, and began swinging his blade around, feeling the inner strength of the steel and handle. This was once gripped by Angeal Hewley, a man who was renowned for his strength and honorable way of living. He was still a legend on Gaia. Zack had taken it from him when he was forced to kill his teacher, and it was his own weapon, one that had protected him from those that pursued them when they fled the Mako Reactor. It had been handed to him then, and he had said that he would live out both his own life, and Zack's life.

Now, in this dark world of mayhem and attraction, he felt the strength of both of those men surging through him, like some sort of magma filling his veins. It was Angeal guiding his shoulders, roving them up and down, the way an oar met the waves. Zack was his arms and hands then, showing him and telling him when to raise the blade and when to thrust it upwards, splitting bone and muscle. There was a story behind this sword, and he would not let it go untold.

Sephiroth had been wrong in this instance: his friends were with him, guiding him to safety in a sense. Though, it might have been all mental, it was still something to go off of. And when one was in oblivion, they needed everything that they could get, be it a thought or a physical body to help that person.

The lizard thing he battled was deliriously angry. Rage rolled off of this unknown gendered beast in waves, hitting Cloud with the backlash of its fury. He supposed if he were a gigantic dragon thing that had just seen the death of one of its mates, he would be mad too. But this was not the time to think of such inane things.

Cloud heaved the large sword up, then down, and two limbs from the creature were severed, falling to the ground. Cloud knew that Sephiroth had enough sense to dodge the gore and macabre that was littering the skies, but every so often, when the creatures were too busy dealing with their anguish of the loss of their mate and children, he snuck a glance below.

He saw Sephiroth shake his left hand as if in anger, and charge at the creatures with all of his strength, hell bent on taking them down in a flurry of directed destruction in which there could only be one victor. He had been burned there a few days previously, a week or two when they had experienced that living nightmare. The skin had healed over, and was only slightly reddened on the knuckles and fingertips. Such beautiful, fair skin did not deserve to be marred by hell fire.

To this thought, Cloud sliced open the jaw of one of the monsters with a ferocious cry. They were tests he knew, to prove his strength. But to him, it was a bit more than that. The last time he had faced some otherworldly creature, he had either froze up or was unable to finish the killing, even when it had donned the face of his mother and past friends. Here was his chance to prove that he was not useless, a liability to Sephiroth. He had to be strong…for this land demanded the best out of everyone.

The severed half of the mouth snapped, only to find that there was no longer a lower half of the jaw. Fire spewed out of the cavern that had been made of the mouth, but with two beats of his wings, Cloud managed to beat that atrocious fire. He cleaved the huge blade through its eyes, and dotted a line down the things back, sticking the sword in, and emerging with a bloodied weapon. The monster cried out, and its wings crumpled, falling to the ground with a sickening thud.

One more to go! He had almost done it! Cloud looked to the next creature, and saw its pain in dark coal oculars, the pain of losing ones mate and children, all at once. Still, he had nothing for this creature but repulsion. They were not supposed to be here, so he killed them. That which meant him harm he would kill, without question.

The monster roared, and spewed vicious dead black flame out of its mouth, a huge ball of heat that would have left nothing but a pile of Cloud bones. Hell no! He would not let some huge beast be the death of him. Besides, there were other things he needed to do before he let the final step of death claim him.

Cloud swung the sword to the right, left, then to the right again, all across the creatures stomach. Its claws tried catching him in their fatal grip, but he was too quick. The gut split open, revealing a revolting display of visceral organs and a frantic, large heart that was beating rapidly. Kill the heart, kill the monster. He lunged forward and stabbed the heart, and it imploded in a grim explosion of red liquid.

Quickly, he severed the limbs off of the creature, and in a final attack, he managed to cut the tail off. It writhed and thrashed about without a body, and it fell to the ground, in a mixture of scales and underbelly. Just to be safe, he slashed everywhere, making sure to pay special attention to the jugulars. He didn't want this thing hurting Sephiroth on the ground, though the bodies exploded in ash as they landed.

Cloud flapped his wings twice, and he realized later that had he been a few inches more above the creature, he would not have had to endure what he had. Though, he hadn't known, for life enjoys testing its characters at random and unexpected moments. The creature, in its last breath, seemed to want to cause him the maximum amount of pain possible. It slashed at him with its claws, and it hit his leg. He heard a snap, and felt his ankle tear. The scream flew from his lips before he even registered breath, and panic overcame him. He had been injured…badly.

From the pain, and the shock of how awful his leg felt, Cloud forgot how to fly. He moved his wings, begging his body to for once, do his bidding. But it hadn't happened. Within two flaps, he fell, plummeting and spiraling to the ground. The pieces of heaven he had been allowed to glimpse as he fell were a lovely sight. From this height, he would die, there was no doubt. A man could only be spared so many times before the gods and goddesses alike had to let the man pass on to the next life. Would he be doomed to wander around limbo for the rest of his spiritual life then?

The rushing wind, and the apprehension of the fall were the worst. Someone had said at one time, that the anticipation of pain was worse than the true pain itself. That was true. He knew that the fall would come, and his spine would bend and snap. The bones would break in his body, that fragile skeleton jostled around like a set of dice in a hurricane. What a morbid thought. Though, his life was going going…and he figured he deserved this much.

Cloud tried his wings again, but they had either been severed, or retreated back into his skin. He wished he could retreat from this inevitable fate.

'Goodbye…sorry Sephiroth.' He closed his eyes, and felt twin tears leak from his eyelids. They were the tears that knew that once again, he had failed, and he was paying for the mistake with his life. It was a show of weakness he had once thought, for he was weak in crying. Though, at this point…he really didn't care. All he knew was that if he died here, in this way…he would not get to enter the Promised Land with Sephiroth. Were there gates of pearl and marble, gem encrusted patterns on the gateway to paradise? Or…would there be vicious rings of fire, emanating small and pointed devils? He didn't know.

Cloud rarely believed in miracles. He thought that those special people got all of the luck at times, and that those who happened to be dealt a bad hand would have to live through it their entire lives. What happened then knocked down that pitiful house of cards, shot the card dealer between the eyes, and left the casino with the jackpot, whistling Dixie. Meaning, Sephiroth caught him before he had died.

Both he and Sephiroth rolled to the ground, a cluster of limbs and silver hair. Silver…what a beautiful color. It was the color of snow, of scintillating moonlight on the winter tundra's.

A voice spoke, and Cloud knew it had to be an angel. Only an angel would leap and save him that way. "Cloud?" What a beautiful voice. Tears fell from his eyes then, freely, for he now could feel the intensity of the pain on his leg. Would he die from this? How could one heal a broken leg in such a place?

A hand brushed his, and Cloud practically flew forward with the flood of emotions he felt. There was attraction, elation…and sweet, nauseating pain. The hand gripped his right hand, and he realized then that the entire time he was falling, spiraling, he had clutched the Buster in his hand. It was as if he longed to take it with him to the afterlife, the promise of such a weapon bringing him a legacy and appeasement in such an unknown realm of existence. He released it, and felt his hand fall to the ground. How pathetic. He couldn't even lift his head.

"Cloud…I'll make it better." Sephiroth glanced at his leg, and looked in his eyes. It was a look that said that things looked grim, and that it was only going to get worse before it got any better. Sephiroth, within the expanse of two seconds, gripped his leg, and set the bone. This barely gave Cloud a chance to understand what was going on, much less prepare himself. The scream he gave out did not sound like his own. It sounded like he was being tortured, the cries of a man who could not hold onto their pride, and cried like a child. He was debilitated.

He had also been wrong about being too weak to move his head. When the bone had set, the force of the pain raised him from the ground into Sephiroth's shoulder, and his throat had never known such a sound of torment. He had endured a lot in his life by this man…but that was the past. Now, in this gift of the now of life, Sephiroth was mending his broken bone. Cloud gripped the man's shoulder so tightly, he thought that when he released it, the arm would splinter into a thousand pieces. Still, Sephiroth was letting him hold him that way, which counted for a lot.

"Cloud. The leg is broken. I am going to have to splint it, and find you a crutch. The only way it will heal is if I set it, and you keep it that way until it feels better. Do you understand me?" All Cloud understood was that somehow, he had been very, very fortunate given the circumstance. He supposed he was lucky after all. He nodded into the man's shoulder, and despite everything, suddenly felt very safe. He was technically in Sephiroth's arms, and there was no other place that he had felt so secure in before. If he died now, it would have to be here. No other place would do.

He managed to form words, for there was something else wrong with his left leg as well. "Y-yes…and…my ankle. Something happened to it." How weak he sounded right now! He sounded like a little boy who had told his mother that he had sliced his finger open, and wanted for her to bandage it up, and kiss it to make it feel better. How atrocious of him. Though…at one time, Sephiroth had felt this chagrin as well. He had been hurt far worse than he had, for a clawed hand in ones stomach was a little worse than a broken leg. And he had let him scream and cry, for he deserved it. Did that mean he did as well?

Sephiroth locked eyes with his, and said that in order for him to look at the damage, he would have to remove his shoe. Good Shiva…it was bad enough with the leg, but the shoe as well? Cloud bit his lips, and nodded his head. It was best to get some things over with. He was certain his eyes held a look of utter exasperation, and that made him close his eyes. He didn't want Sephiroth seeing him looking so defeated. Funny how a broken bone can turn a man into a mess of a human.

"Cloud… I am going to have to remove your boot and sock. Please…like you once said to me before…scream. Cry. Fuck it. I will not judge you for crying, or hurting. Please…express yourself." Sephiroth had changed. He had gone from a bloodthirsty killer to a soothing man, one who was practically on bended knee begging him to show him how much he needed to show his pain and suffering. No one had ever told him he could feel those things. Tifa had told him to let her and those he loved in more often. And…if he claimed he loved this man, he would allow him this show of himself.

It was official: he was baring his soul to Sephiroth. Tears fell from his eyes, and he wondered, in this state of mind he was forced to cope with, what it would be like if Sephiroth tasted his tears. His tongue would trail a heated pattern across his face, and there would be no more sorrow, or pain. His world would be Sephiroth's lips, his mouth. The boot came off, and he felt sick. Then came the sock, and he was sure he had the appearance of a man who was getting teeth pulled with pliers.

Sephiroth's eyes opened wide, and the blood rushed from his face. He decided to get a little humor in there, for good measure. He was certain he looked intoxicated, but his daydream was far better than this grim reality. "What's wrong… I still have a foot, right?"

He was met with a hasty nod, but frightening words. "Cloud. The tendon in your foot was severed. You would need massive surgery to repair it, a tendon graft…without it…I don't know how you will ever walk normal again." That was…unlucky. His head fell forward then, and he wondered if his spine was alright, for he couldn't support his head any longer. It was as Sephiroth had once said: he was a puppet, and the string that was holding his head steady had been cut, leaving nothing but a wooden toy in its wake.

Cloud let out a little gasp when Sephiroth's fingers brushed his neck, squeezing him the way that a General would do a fallen comrade on the battle field. The sad thing about that analogy was, that it might have been true in a past life. Sephiroth would have helped him out of this situation had they been in the midst of Wutai and enemy territory. The only difference was that right now, he was far different than he had been. He was far more compassionate now, and willing to understand him.

Then, Sephiroth spoke. "Cloud…I had a thought. I am going to turn you over onto your stomach, and I am going to drip some of my blood into the wound. Jenova healed me within a few weeks with my terrible wound. This is worse than that was…however, I believe that if I do this, the tendon will suture on its own. I have no means of saving your foot otherwise." That was a brilliant thought….but in the moment, he was in too much pain to even pretend to care. He weakly caught the man's eyes, and gave a curt nod. Then, he was rolled to his stomach-almost tenderly he thought-but regardless, his hand curled into a fist. Dear Shiva…he didn't think there was a way that the human mind could withstand such pain! Though, he had endured far worse before. Hell, he had been shot, experimented on, and impaled by the once vile turned heroic Masamune. And now, the man who had caused him so much grief at one time was giving him a way out of it.

After a moment of silence, aside from his shallow breathing and the sound of metal slicing open bare skin, he felt it. He felt unlike he had ever felt before. It was just blood, and it should have been as simple as a dew drop hitting the bare earth, giving it moisture. If he wanted to find a morbid analogy, he would think of acid rolling off of this proverbial leaf blade, hitting the world with a scream of complete anguish. He could not keep from crying out, or whimpering. His blood was on fire it seemed! How did Sephiroth stand this invader in his skin?

There was fire beneath his skin and bones, and he writhed on the ground, gripping it, crying out nonsense, and screaming all the while. Acid was closing the wound…it had to be! Even though he couldn't have helped it had he tried, tears poured from his eyes, eyes that had long since desired release. He couldn't help from crying, for this man would not judge him.

"I'm so sorry Cloud. But…I think it is helping." Why did Sephiroth have to be sorry? It was not as if his arm and claws had torn open his leg, and broke the bone. It was a cryptic apology, but it was meant to be words of comfort. Never did he think that such stoic lips were capable of uttering a word of praise, much less empathy. The Sephiroth from Gaia, the Demon of Wutai never would have. But here, this Sephiroth from Oblivion, Mr. Incorrigible and his personal Diamond Lips could. There was no denying change now.

Cloud succumbed to the release of the foreign contaminant in his blood stream, and he marveled at how much better his foot felt. It was not perfect he knew, but the hissing and burning had stopped. He didn't think that even the strongest of beings could handle the boil of their blood for too long. No one could handle fire in their veins. He gasped, and a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

"Damn…I felt as if I was dipped in acid…but now…I'm just…here." The sound of shredding cloth made Cloud want to open his eyes, but they were so very heavy. Weights were holding them down, and he thought of the old days when coins were placed on the eyes of the dead. There was some legend about that, in the Greek myths, of a ferryman who was paid in such coins. How morbid. He wondered if all those who were brushed with death had to deal with such hideous delusions.

Sephiroth told him not to go anywhere, and in his state of self delirium, he replied that he couldn't have gone anywhere had he tried to. Sleep tempted him, dancing across his eyelids, telling him it was alright to let go, and that for now, it was okay to be weak. For, sometimes, being weak was the sweetest debilitation that there was, especially when you knew that no one would judge you.

A voice shattered his thoughts, and he knew that it would startle the very breath from his lungs had he let it. "Cloud…I am going to splint this right now. Once I am done, I am going to find shelter for us. Then, you will relax, and I will watch over you as you heal. I don't care about our damn progress in this land…all I care about it letting you get better." Sephiroth touched his leg then, and Cloud suppressed a groan. Though, where was the honor in holding back what he felt? There was no honor. The splint was made within minutes, and Cloud wondered if it had been the Goddess's plan to have some sort of strategy for who would be in this land, based on what they knew. Sephiroth knew many medical facts, and Cloud knew how to hunt, for being raised in a backwoods town taught him a lot about survival.

Also, Sephiroth's words rattled around in his mind. Sephiroth wanted him to get better! How kind of him…Cloud wished he had a grip on his thoughts, for he knew that in this state of pain, he was going to have to mentally edit a lot of what he wanted. For example, he wanted for Sephiroth to ease his hand a little more up on his thigh, and grip what ailed him, in-between his legs. That was insane, for he had never even tried to ask any woman to do that to him. Still, the best kind of insanity was in letting go entirely, and letting the tongue be as free as hidden thought itself.

The splint was made, and Sephiroth urged him to drink from his hands. He did this, all the while imagining that his leg was healed and urging Sephiroth to do many things to him. After all, in his dirty little mind, he was the one who took control. Right then, as he was battling the stages of Jenova, a severed tendon and a broken leg, he had found a happy little place in his mind for self hallucinogenic purposes, and was busy riding Sephiroth into the next millennium. Had he been in his right mind-who said minds were right?-he would have never thought that. Or…would he have? Great Shiva…he was the dominant one?

Twelve times he drank, and each time, he imagined a new scenario between him and Diamond Lips. The middle one almost made him choke up the water, and he was so thankful that Sephiroth was not able to probe minds anymore, and analyze his thought pattern. Had he been able to…he would have seen what the cover of the trees could shield, as well as the vivid noises and moans each of them were causing each other. Only in his dream and delirious fantasies would this happen. However, for the time being, he was alright with that. It was just a matter of making those thoughts tangible, and forcing his hands and mouth to act. Preferably the latter.

Water was poured on his wound, and his thoughts turned red. He cried out, for the acidic feeling in his ankle was back with a thrumming vengeance. That's right. He was hurt, and the daydreams-night dreams?- were all some sort of defense mechanism in his minds eye, trying to defeat the pain and suffering he was in. Warm hands were suddenly on his face, on his chest and back, wiping away the gore he had sustained in the battle. Hands, warmth everywhere. If he could dissolve and become one with this warmth, he would willingly leave his body now, to merge with such heat. All the while of course, his eyes were closed, and he was supporting himself on his forearms, putting on a brave face. Though, inside his mind, he was doing more than putting on airs.

"Now, let's find a place to stay." Sephiroth gripped him, and eased him up from his position on his stomach. He was comfortable there, but he would have been in ecstasy had Sephiroth got down to his level, wrapped an arm around his waist, and slept there with him until the world fell down.

He knew he was hobbling now, on his good leg. Sephiroth was stepping in place of his right leg, and with the way he was leaning, he could let Sephiroth control his actions without fear. He was a blind and babbling flier, one who would let any pilot take over him. Though right now, he was allowing this to be, for it was for his own good. Besides, he trusted Sephiroth now, and that was all there was to it.

To compensate for his impure thoughts, he went on and on outwardly about a birthday party his mother had thrown him years and years ago, and how delicious the food and cake had been, and how the presents were really something. Cloud knew he must have sounded insane…but it was better than talking about how he wished to ravish the one who was helping him out of this predicament. He could only imagine how well that would have turned out. Sephiroth had managed a small laugh, and it was music to his dead and delirium filled ears. Delirium…what a funny word!

He was set underneath the closure of trees, and he had to suppress the sound of a spiritual orgasm, for one of his thoughts had been in rutting senselessly against some trees, all the while gripping silver hair in his hands. This image was beautiful…but the pull of sleep was much stronger than a made up image meant to cause less pain. Cloud knew that he needed rest.

Still, he had to say something. "Seph?"

"Yes, Cloud. Is there anything that you want?"

To this, Cloud nodded, and he wondered if he looked like those little bobble head dolls that Cid had on his dashboard and ships. More than likely. "Yeah…lay by my side. Please. I just…I want to be with the one who caught me. You caught me…I was falling…" Cloud wondered if Sephiroth would actually do it. He didn't see why he wouldn't, but still. Good gods…he was thinking in terms of rejection! He was not some fourteen year old girl with a crush on the towns golden boy. He was a man who wanted the love of his life to lay down next to him, while the effects of the Jenova cells wore down in his system. Human bodies could pretty much get used to anything.

Sephiroth came down to his level, and he heard the sound of rustling fabric and body movements. It was a beautiful sound, for it was a sound that Sephiroth himself was using. Everything he created was beautiful, every noise and gesture from his body. Cloud barely suppressed a moan when Sephiroth gripped his hand in his own, for comfort purposes. In his mind, Sephiroth was gripping a lot more than his hand. He believed, that the medical term for this, was that he was loopy and sexually frustrated.

Sleep almost claimed him, but before it did, Sephiroth's words broke the silence. His words worked miracles. "Cloud. You were one of the most valorous sights I have ever seen today. You risked yourself in that sky, all to slay those…things. Never, ever think that you are useless, or a waste of space. You did what you had to do…and it is unfair that you were hurt so terribly." Valor…it was a word meaning bravery he knew. He had been brave? He thought so, in a sense. He just wanted to kill the stupid dumb fuck lizards. If that made him brave, then so be it.

He laughed then, and the sound was different to his ears. "Thank you, Sephy Seph. I don't even…know what I'm saying right now." He really had no idea what his mind was coming up with. "It just hurts right now…but you're making it better. Believe me…you made a lot of things better. Thank you for…protecting me. I'm sorry I said such…hurtful things." He really had, hadn't he? If he had to be nice to Sephiroth for the rest of his life, his tired and slightly inebriated mind declared, he would.

That was when he had fallen asleep.


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Cloud shook his head, not believing he had thought such idiotic things. Though, they were not the furthest ideas from the truth. In his heart of hearts, he knew that there was a sexual deviant that was pacing in its cage, longing to find the man with the keys and to tear it to shreds. Would it really be so bad if such a being was unbridled?

Well, yes. For starters, a man who wanted to pursue another had to have both of their legs, and not be in the budding stages of recovery. It had been a day at most, and a broken bone took weeks to heal. His body, from the Mako, healed faster than most. Still, despite what was in his bloodstream, he was still human. And being human required rest, and the necessary relaxing to mend a bone.

This was hardly the time to think of such things. What mattered now was the fact that his once glowing skin was…fading. Was he dying? Cloud flexed his fingers, and only saw a light blue tint there. His natural skin color was technically back, but there was still an outer edge of turquoise surrounding his form. What the Hell? Either he was dying, or he was getting closer to finding the end to this world. If that was the case, then he was beyond elated.

He looked to his outstretched left leg, and winced. It was bandaged in a splint of sorts, tied by strips of a shirt five times, gliding down towards his ankle and upper thigh. The pant leg was shredded, and he saw bare skin underneath. It looked pale, too pale. Or, was that just the way that skin normally looked? After being used to having an alien glow, having only slightly lit skin was a bit of a surprise.

Cloud looked around the campground, eager for a place to look, a place other than his battered body. There were the makings of a fire to his left, surrounded by small stones. Sticks had been pointed and placed strategically by the fire, along with clothing. Clothing? He supposed a new pair of pants was in order, since the ones he wore currently were in complete ruin. It was as if he had let a rapid dog play with his pant leg like some favorite chew toy, shredding it with its fangs. The trees covered them, shrouding them in slight darkness. The light from the heavens was still present, sifting through the openings in the canopy, lighting up everything with a faint glow. Perhaps this was why he didn't need to be the planet's nightlight any longer.

A noise to his right made Cloud look up, and into the jade eyes of the man who had saved his life. He was throwing back some branches, and emerged with a small creature that he had killed for their breakfast. Or was it dinner? Sephiroth set the animal down on the floor, wiped the hair from his eyes, and gave him a small smile. Holy shit could the man smile.

"Good afternoon. How are you feeling?" This surely had to be a parallel universe, for even when Sephiroth was being at his most pleasant, he was not known for being this…into manners. Or had he been? Things were a little foggy in his mind as of late, more than likely a cause from Jenova.

Cloud gave a small chuckle. How could he not? "Never better. Your quick thinking spared me a lot of pain." He sat up against the tree, and wished that he didn't have to have his leg outstretched in this way. He would be able to do so many other things if he didn't have this nuisance of an injury. Though, patience was in order here. Besides, who was to say that he would not be taken care of? Vulnerability…was not so bad. "Also, my skin is almost back to normal."

Sephiroth began skinning the creature that looked like a possum, but with way more meat, and caught his eyes. "I sure hope it worked. I want you on your feet again. You didn't deserve any of it. And you scared me shitless with the skin thing. I thought you were dying last night, or whenever. But it is just because there is more light here now." Damn. Since when had this change overcome Sephiroth? Sephiroth was usually talking about certain things, but never about fate. He might have thought he was pushing his luck had he gone on about what was destined and what was fated, for he had suspected that his own life would go one way, but it hadn't. It was funny how life worked out, at times, in the exact opposite of ones rock hard volitions.

And he had been worried about him? He was not dying-that he knew of-and if anything, the release of one gift gave way into another. He had no need for false light anyways, if there was a real dawn somewhere he was allowed to see.

Cloud shrugged. "Be that as it may, it happened. It's alright. It's not your fault, or mine. It was that dumb fuck dragon." Had he really just said that? Guessing on the shock on Sephiroth's face, he really had. "Also, thank you for your concern. It was a surprise to me too, to look almost normal."

Sephiroth chuckled, and placed the barely skinned creature to the ground. "Cloud, I am going to say this once and once only: are you sure you were not dropped on your head as a child?" Cloud scoffed and threw Sephiroth a dirty look in jest. He could not be truly mad with the man had he tried. That, and blocked out all of the memories of him on Gaia. If he were to do that, then he would find harmony within himself, that true forgiveness that he could not quite touch. He reached for it with every ounce of his strength, straining for the brush of true happiness that would come from such a thing. But try as he might, no matter how much he fucking adored the man…he could not forgive just yet.

"I wasn't. However, if I am brain damaged, I am blaming you."

"Like I have said before, if you enjoy dying so much, don't let me help you." At the end of this insane and out of place jesting match, he and Sephiroth were almost laughing. Every time Cloud moved however, his back popped, and he wished he could ease into some hot water to soothe his aching muscles. That sounded wonderful.

Sephiroth sensed his discomfort, and after a moment of abandoning the meat, he crossed the distance between them. Damn, could the man walk! Every moment was fluid, graceful. He could have made falling down look trained. His legs were in perfect synch with his arms, for they were at his side still, with his shoulders squared, a warriors walk and gait. He knelt before him, and it brought attention to his firm thigh muscles. Had Cloud ran into the man, he would have been knocked to the ground, for he surely was carved out of iron. Though, it was a kind iron, one who was now looking at him with gentle eyes. What a contradiction.

"I'll take care of you, Cloud. Tell me what hurts." Cloud found that all he could stare at, was the man's face. He had always thought that it was a bit shallow to base someone's attraction based on someone's face and body. Though, if anything, Sephiroth had proven himself time and again. His true beauty was coming forth now, a gentleness that almost astounded Cloud. He wondered if Zack or anyone else was seeing this phenomenon within Sephiroth right now. It was a quiet metamorphosis, but one that Cloud was not blind to.

Cloud then realized he was staring at the man's face for far too long. Staring was rude normally. "My back and shoulders are really tight." Sephiroth nodded, and gestured for Cloud to sit up. Cloud eased his back up at an angle, and wondered what would come of this. Did Sephiroth want to…?

Warm hands on his back gave him the answer. His eyes slipped closed, and his tongue emitted a small expanse of air. It sounded like "Aaaahhh…" or something. It was the sound of…sex. That was the sound. Cloud knew his face was nothing but a blush, but for the moment, he couldn't give a damn. All that mattered was the wicked massage he was getting. "Holy shit…when did you learn to be a masseuse?"

Sephiroth kneaded the tension out of his shoulders first, applying a small amount of pressure to his shoulder blades, and then towards the center of his spine. Warmth pooled from Cloud's chest, and it threatened to consume him, making him whole with the man who was causing him such pleasure. His erection made itself known, but Cloud didn't care. It was not painful, but a biting and intense ache, one that he wanted fulfilled. Also, there was something he wanted within him as well, something that he had been wanting for months it seemed. He wanted to make love to Sephiroth.

"I know how to heal a body of its tension. Angeal taught this to me actually." A part of Cloud's back cracked, and he gave out a little gasp through his teeth. This would have been the sound of Sephiroth entering him he knew, the sound of the inevitable tearing of skin and pain that one would have to endure in order for sex to occur. He would endure pain to its highest peak, if only Sephiroth were the one to cause that, and the flip side of the coin. After the pain, there was pleasure.

"Well…whoever taught you…thank them for me." Cloud rolled his head forward, and he felt as if he were nothing but a loose bundle of bones then, putty in this man's hands. For this instance, he would let himself be controlled, in such a manner. "I love…this." Shit! How hard was it to say you loved someone? Apparently, really hard.

Sephiroth chuckled behind him, and his voice was so close to his ear, Cloud practically screamed aloud when he heard his voice. "Certainly. You deserve it. Relax, Cloud. You took care of me once. This is me returning the favor." Cloud felt himself go weightless when he applied the smallest bit of pressure on his lower back, down at almost the base of his spine. His skin was on fire, and his insides were screaming at him to tell the man something nice, something truly kind.

"It was never about responsibility. It was because I wanted you to feel better. You…were hurt because of me." Sephiroth rubbed his palms in slow, sensual circles across his back. At least, he thought it was in a sensual manner. When one was in love, even the slightest bat of an eyelid might hold some degree of significance.

"I wanted to save you, Cloud. Your life then, was important to me. I didn't want you to die in such a tragic way, like the first time. If anything, it was to prove to myself that I was different, and could willingly sacrifice my self comfort for another." Cloud felt his eyes slowly open, and he felt a flush spread across his features. This man was his hero.

"I see. My life isn't important now then?" Sephiroth hit a part of his back that made Cloud arch, a moan slipping from his lips.

"Of course it is. I will do anything I can to make you comfortable." Cloud's mind did not like those words. Rather, his mind liked them a little too much.

"I know you would. I trust you, with my life." That, and so much more. "Thanks for helping me…I could never have rubbed my own back." This elicited a beautiful laugh to slip from his Diamond Lips. The nickname stuck in his mind, and it would not be quick to depart. No feeling or thought was ever quick to leave after all.

"I suppose this is one of those "You scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours" deals, hmm?" In a sense, it was. Both of them were helping the other out. "And no trouble at all. You are in a lot of pain, Cloud. If I can ease even a little of it, do not hesitate to ask." If Cloud were to take some sort of a survey and a guess as to who would say those words, out of all of his male friends, he would have blurted out Vincent before Sephiroth. Sephiroth was not known for being touchy feely, or affectionate in the least. What had changed?

'Us. We changed.' This world made men forge a bond with each other, two prisoners grappling for the light in the dark world they had been ushered into, against their will. They were each others eyes, for they saw certain things that the other didn't, and it made all the difference. All senses were purged, for they were now each others senses. And this would make a man different than who-or what-he had once been. It was a transformation of only the highest caliber. Oblivion, or rather, this world they were in, of shadow and light, had lessons to teach.

Cloud felt, to his utter amazement, sleep tug at his eyelids. He supposed his body was trying to combat the effects of the Jenova in his veins, as well as the pain his body endured. His eyes closed, and he nearly toppled to the ground. He would have, if two arms had not encircled his chest, pulling him backwards. Cloud's eyes flew open, and he was certain his eyes were saucers. Add flaming cheeks, a beating heart, and one had the most lovelorn fool in history. Sephiroth was holding him against his chest then…and it was the most safe he had felt in years.

"Careful, hero. Sleep, if it is what you want. I have noticed that you always manage to put me first in things. Don't do that. For once in your life Cloud…think about yourself. Sleep, and be lazy. You are recovering, and in pain. And if I have to chain you to this tree by my arms, then so be it." Cloud placed his hands on Sephiroth's forearms, and they shook, knocking against the other. He was scared, terrified of touching this man, yet he could not stop his actions. It was a beautiful thing that he was doing for him, holding him this way for warmth. His hands touched the forearms, and small silver hair stood on end from his touch.

"Sounds fine by me." Cloud relaxed and went limp in this man's arms, and he wondered if Sephiroth truly knew what his skin did to him. He was resting in-between his legs, with his head beneath his collarbone, for the man was still so tall to him. "Thank you, Sephiroth. You saved my life again." He felt a smile tug his lips, and Cloud felt sleep come over him, pulling him into an embrace that eclipsed this blessed, sacred warmth.

He was wrong. He was one of the lucky ones.


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A bit more romance in this chapter. ^-^ I think my hardcore yaoi reviewers will love what I have in store. :) I appreciate every review, I truly do!