021
Title: Water
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Rating: PG
Word count: 2,235
Pairing: Cloud/Aerith
Summary: Cloud's mind, body and spirit might have become disjointed and rotten, but there are somethings he still knows without having to remember.
Notes: Set during FFVII, just after Cloud falls into the Lifestream and before he washes up in Mideel.
Cloud Strife fell into the Lifestream headfirst and eyes shut tight; arms stretched out behind his back as if he was diving at first, but soon it became clear he was falling.
The consciousness of the stream thinned and thick mako swirled around him. There was something about the living coming into their domain that brought up too many memories and struck fear, and remembrance of whatever existed before death was to be avoided at all costs. There were a few souls surrounding him, more curious than brave, and they danced like fireflies, lighting the way for her.
Aerith watched him fall for a moment, down and down as the bubbles of air tore past him, not sure if he could stop, not knowing what was in the depths of the Lifestream; if the Lifestream did indeed end, something Aerith was beginning to doubt, ever since she died and had not stopped falling since.
At first his eyes flickered, trying to get a glimpse of the endless green around him, always closing from exhaustion and burning. He stopped seeing after a while, but this did not scare Aerith; she had been dead for too long to remember the tell-tale signs showing whether someone was living or not. She remembered the days when people would rely on her healing winds and great gospels, but now she didn't even check his chest was rising and falling still; instead she watched his spirit, surprisingly vibrant for his rotten state. It was trying to pull away from his body, to rip his consciousness out-a natural reaction to the will of the Lifestream, most likely-and she watched as this ghost Cloud danced around his flesh body.
Once she realised that Cloud was not going to return to his body by his own reasoning, Aerith called upon the Lifestream. Thick tendrils webbed their way over him, wrapping themselves around his arms and legs, keeping him floating in a fantasy sea of green.
It took some moments, but eventually a voice came, and she knew it wasn't from his lips.
“Am I on the other side?”
And although it only echoed through her as thoughts Aerith felt the words, rough and unfamiliar. It felt as if Cloud was straining just to think.
“You're not dead, if that's what you mean,” she replied simply, darting through the Lifestream to look at Cloud from all angles. How long had it been since she lived? Death played curious games with time, and she could no longer distinguish the seconds from the years.
“I'm in the Lifestream, aren't I?”
He spoke without needing a reply. There was no way of mistaking the Lifestream, that which gave the planet life, rested the dead and poisoned the living. Aerith nodded, making ripples towards him.
“So why am I alive?”
It was a question she could not quite answer. His skin was reacting badly to the mako, that much she could tell, and it was certain that it had already gone to his head; his 'speech' was disjointed and flat, and he spoke as if he was not a person, not whole. Aerith knew he should be dead but did not dare to think it; there was no way it would escape his mind.
“I don't know Cloud,” she replied gently, and he cringed at the name. His spirit shuddered in such a way that it was as if she was digging up a best forgotten past.
“I fell from the sky, through wood and stone, and landed in the flowers before; I lived then, because you were there.”
Cloud spoke, and he spoke to no one in particular. Any souls nearby probably could have heard his forgotten memories. Aerith looked at him for a long time, wondering if he was really aware of what he was saying.
She paused, before brushing the incident off. “The dirt must have broken your fall.”
“The flowers were crushed. Why wasn't I?”
“Call it luck,” Aerith said with a short laugh, running her messy fingers through Cloud's hair playfully.
“It wasn't fate. It was because you were there.”
Over and over again he said it, and each time he did his words felt more hollow. Before now Aerith did not think it was possible to shudder without a body, but the emptiness in Cloud's voice and those blank, staring eyes that she couldn't see only brought her to the truth: Cloud did not know who she was, and the memories he drew were meaningless. He spoke as an outsider.
He was becoming everything she thought he wasn't; a hollowed out replica, playing his sad part on the world's stage.
“You think I don't know you,” his spirit said quite abruptly, and she pulled away quickly. “But I do. I've forgotten, but I know you better than I know myself.”
Aerith smiled as best she could. His mind was reeling-when he regained consciousness again he wasn't going to know who or where he was, let alone know a dead girl. Cloud Strife was hundreds of miles away, completely out of reach, and only an echo of this thoughts remained.
“What's my name, Cloud?” she asked hopelessly.
“That doesn't matter; I know you.”
“Who am I, Cloud?”
“The only one I can feel. You are me.”
It didn't surprise her-the Lifestream was a mass of energy, of souls joining together as one consciousness. They were individuals, but one, feeling the thoughts of each other and hearing memories of days gone by. Right now Aerith was the only other soul around, and Cloud had become so disjointed from his body that he was slowly seeping into her.
“And what about you, Cloud? Who are you?” she asked softly, daring to move closer to him again. Close to his spirit, this time.
Cloud stretched out the new fingers, almost transparent now, learning how to use them. Aerith thought he smiled, but it may have just been the shadows dancing in the depths.
“I am a puppet; I am Sephiroth. No-I am Sephiroth's.”
His words became firm and assertive once more, and he almost sounded proud.
“The Cloud I knew-know-would never follow Sephiroth,” Aerith stated, lying to herself.
She still remembered his punches against her face, and those horribly cold eyes that he never once took off her as he hit her over and over, so, so sorry for what he had done; remembered the way the Black materia had slipped from his fingers so easily; and that constant, all-consuming urge to follow Sephiroth to the ends of the earth, and further if he had to.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I don't even have a number.”
Aerith did not fully understand what he was talking about with this business of numbers, but she remembered her childhood well enough to know that Hojo most likely had something to do with this. Still, she couldn't fathom just what was going on. All she knew was that Cloud no longer believed he was Cloud, and both Hojo and Sephiroth were at the heart of it all.
“I can't lie in the Lifestream. Everything I think and feel here is real.”
“Cloud, real?” he asked, suddenly taking notice of his flesh body, eyes wide and refusing to believe.
“I'm sorry Cloud, but I don't know your past; don't know who you were back then, and I don't know how I can help you now. But as far as I'm concerned Cloud is Cloud, and all that matters is that I was part of my present while I lived; that I could love you then.”
She was a ghost, and not much help. That much was painfully obvious to her; and if she reached out her fabricated fingertips, her touch would slip right through Cloud and he would neither feel or notice it. Then again, it didn't seem that much different from that life she lived back on the surface.
The puppet gestured towards the body he rejected.
“You love him-Cloud-why?”
It disturbed her the way he honestly did not seem able to connect himself to the body, and letting herself fade a little she looked up, trying to see some stars through it all. Anything to fix her concentration on.
“I didn't want to,” she said honestly, mentally going through all her realising why falling in love with Cloud just wasn't a good idea. “I love my planet, and knew it would always come first; I had to protect it, before my own feelings. No regrets and no distractions. I love you because I have to.”
It was amazing how easy it was to say such things when she knew he would never understand or remember them.
And then there was silence. Thick, heavy silence, wrapping around her and distancing herself from Cloud. There were two silences, and she could not work out which one was louder; that of the entire Lifestream, or Cloud's own personal silence.
“You left me!” Cloud said violently, and this time it really was Cloud. He almost screamed it, and the dead cowered.
“I had to,” Aerith whispered, claiming the silence as her own.
“I... I can feel your blood on my hands!”
“I tried to keep my distance.” Quieter still.
“You hurt me!”
“I'm sorry.” She doubted he heard her.
Cloud's spirit was closer to his body, but still not entwined. He gripped his head in frustration, fading in and out as realisation and anger took turns to thrash out at him.
“And now I can't remember either of us,” he whispered.
Aerith said nothing, and she said it very loudly.
He hadn't remembered it all, not yet-had barely come to grips with the fact that he was Cloud-and his head was spinning.
“Did we have a life together?” he asked, finally, not in particular want of an answer.
“Never,” Aerith said with a smile, and her voice was as gentle as ever. Cloud could not help but smile too, somehow feeling that it was not all so bad. Down here life just didn't seem all that important; he wanted to stay, if he could, and knew Aerith could feel this.
Something struck him.
“It's cold down here.”
“You can feel now?” Aerith asked, voice ripe with both excitement and disappointment.
“Feel? Of course-my hands are shaking,” he said, confused by the accusation of being numb.
“Then your senses are returning.”
“Senses? Senses?” he asked, “Then how were we talking?”
Aerith smiled again, but there was something different about it this time. Even when she could read his mind she couldn't begin to comprehend the thoughts in his head or rationalise what was going on. Did he remember not knowing himself, remember being a puppet? Could he even remember talking to her, being part of her?
“It's like you said, Cloud; I am you. In this Lifestream, at least. Your body here is in ruin.”
She was thinking and projecting her words into him, and all of a sudden he was lost once more. His body was beyond being broken; even his voice wouldn't work anymore.
“Cloud's body... Cloud's... Sephiroth's?” He shook his head firmly. “My body.”
“That's right, Cloud.”
He continued shaking his head for a few more seconds.
“It's cold, Aerith. Can you help me?”
Aerith felt a flood surge through her, and Cloud felt her smile before he saw it.
“You remember me now?” she asked, desperately hoping.
“I didn't forget, if what you say is true,” he said slowly, not sure of what he was saying, but confident in his words. “Because I think I might be Cloud. It's me, isn't it? And you-you sold me a flower once. Died in my arms. But can you help me?”
He was closer to his body now, so close that Aerith could barely see his spirit's green glow weave around it. And he was smiling, eyes still sewn shut, lips trembling as he breathed; she moved closer, and it was enough to make her feel alive again. The seconds did not turn to days, and she was cheerfully sad that he had to go. There was a world for him to save after all, and he didn't belong down here just yet.
“I'm dead now. Just a spirit. I can't fix your body.”
“But where do I go, Aerith?” he seemed to have grown attached to the sound the name made so quickly. “I'm lost,” he admitted, knowing he meant in more ways than one.
The Lifestream was pressing gently and Cloud was slowly being lifted to the cracks in the planet's surface, back towards the ocean, arms and legs still binded. They were close enough now that sunlight was beginning to filter through once more, and in the bright light she could see that his body and spirit were threading themselves together. She knew that his mind was still else where and his body would not work without it, but with any luck there would be a strong current further up to take him to dry land.
“Don't worry. We can be lost here together, just for now,” she whispered with a promise.
“In these cold waters?” he asked, but did not seem to mind.
The shadows danced on his face once more, but this time eyes opened, clear and blue.
And I walk in the cold waters with you.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Rating: PG
Word count: 2,235
Pairing: Cloud/Aerith
Summary: Cloud's mind, body and spirit might have become disjointed and rotten, but there are somethings he still knows without having to remember.
Notes: Set during FFVII, just after Cloud falls into the Lifestream and before he washes up in Mideel.
Cloud Strife fell into the Lifestream headfirst and eyes shut tight; arms stretched out behind his back as if he was diving at first, but soon it became clear he was falling.
The consciousness of the stream thinned and thick mako swirled around him. There was something about the living coming into their domain that brought up too many memories and struck fear, and remembrance of whatever existed before death was to be avoided at all costs. There were a few souls surrounding him, more curious than brave, and they danced like fireflies, lighting the way for her.
Aerith watched him fall for a moment, down and down as the bubbles of air tore past him, not sure if he could stop, not knowing what was in the depths of the Lifestream; if the Lifestream did indeed end, something Aerith was beginning to doubt, ever since she died and had not stopped falling since.
At first his eyes flickered, trying to get a glimpse of the endless green around him, always closing from exhaustion and burning. He stopped seeing after a while, but this did not scare Aerith; she had been dead for too long to remember the tell-tale signs showing whether someone was living or not. She remembered the days when people would rely on her healing winds and great gospels, but now she didn't even check his chest was rising and falling still; instead she watched his spirit, surprisingly vibrant for his rotten state. It was trying to pull away from his body, to rip his consciousness out-a natural reaction to the will of the Lifestream, most likely-and she watched as this ghost Cloud danced around his flesh body.
Once she realised that Cloud was not going to return to his body by his own reasoning, Aerith called upon the Lifestream. Thick tendrils webbed their way over him, wrapping themselves around his arms and legs, keeping him floating in a fantasy sea of green.
It took some moments, but eventually a voice came, and she knew it wasn't from his lips.
“Am I on the other side?”
And although it only echoed through her as thoughts Aerith felt the words, rough and unfamiliar. It felt as if Cloud was straining just to think.
“You're not dead, if that's what you mean,” she replied simply, darting through the Lifestream to look at Cloud from all angles. How long had it been since she lived? Death played curious games with time, and she could no longer distinguish the seconds from the years.
“I'm in the Lifestream, aren't I?”
He spoke without needing a reply. There was no way of mistaking the Lifestream, that which gave the planet life, rested the dead and poisoned the living. Aerith nodded, making ripples towards him.
“So why am I alive?”
It was a question she could not quite answer. His skin was reacting badly to the mako, that much she could tell, and it was certain that it had already gone to his head; his 'speech' was disjointed and flat, and he spoke as if he was not a person, not whole. Aerith knew he should be dead but did not dare to think it; there was no way it would escape his mind.
“I don't know Cloud,” she replied gently, and he cringed at the name. His spirit shuddered in such a way that it was as if she was digging up a best forgotten past.
“I fell from the sky, through wood and stone, and landed in the flowers before; I lived then, because you were there.”
Cloud spoke, and he spoke to no one in particular. Any souls nearby probably could have heard his forgotten memories. Aerith looked at him for a long time, wondering if he was really aware of what he was saying.
She paused, before brushing the incident off. “The dirt must have broken your fall.”
“The flowers were crushed. Why wasn't I?”
“Call it luck,” Aerith said with a short laugh, running her messy fingers through Cloud's hair playfully.
“It wasn't fate. It was because you were there.”
Over and over again he said it, and each time he did his words felt more hollow. Before now Aerith did not think it was possible to shudder without a body, but the emptiness in Cloud's voice and those blank, staring eyes that she couldn't see only brought her to the truth: Cloud did not know who she was, and the memories he drew were meaningless. He spoke as an outsider.
He was becoming everything she thought he wasn't; a hollowed out replica, playing his sad part on the world's stage.
“You think I don't know you,” his spirit said quite abruptly, and she pulled away quickly. “But I do. I've forgotten, but I know you better than I know myself.”
Aerith smiled as best she could. His mind was reeling-when he regained consciousness again he wasn't going to know who or where he was, let alone know a dead girl. Cloud Strife was hundreds of miles away, completely out of reach, and only an echo of this thoughts remained.
“What's my name, Cloud?” she asked hopelessly.
“That doesn't matter; I know you.”
“Who am I, Cloud?”
“The only one I can feel. You are me.”
It didn't surprise her-the Lifestream was a mass of energy, of souls joining together as one consciousness. They were individuals, but one, feeling the thoughts of each other and hearing memories of days gone by. Right now Aerith was the only other soul around, and Cloud had become so disjointed from his body that he was slowly seeping into her.
“And what about you, Cloud? Who are you?” she asked softly, daring to move closer to him again. Close to his spirit, this time.
Cloud stretched out the new fingers, almost transparent now, learning how to use them. Aerith thought he smiled, but it may have just been the shadows dancing in the depths.
“I am a puppet; I am Sephiroth. No-I am Sephiroth's.”
His words became firm and assertive once more, and he almost sounded proud.
“The Cloud I knew-know-would never follow Sephiroth,” Aerith stated, lying to herself.
She still remembered his punches against her face, and those horribly cold eyes that he never once took off her as he hit her over and over, so, so sorry for what he had done; remembered the way the Black materia had slipped from his fingers so easily; and that constant, all-consuming urge to follow Sephiroth to the ends of the earth, and further if he had to.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I don't even have a number.”
Aerith did not fully understand what he was talking about with this business of numbers, but she remembered her childhood well enough to know that Hojo most likely had something to do with this. Still, she couldn't fathom just what was going on. All she knew was that Cloud no longer believed he was Cloud, and both Hojo and Sephiroth were at the heart of it all.
“I can't lie in the Lifestream. Everything I think and feel here is real.”
“Cloud, real?” he asked, suddenly taking notice of his flesh body, eyes wide and refusing to believe.
“I'm sorry Cloud, but I don't know your past; don't know who you were back then, and I don't know how I can help you now. But as far as I'm concerned Cloud is Cloud, and all that matters is that I was part of my present while I lived; that I could love you then.”
She was a ghost, and not much help. That much was painfully obvious to her; and if she reached out her fabricated fingertips, her touch would slip right through Cloud and he would neither feel or notice it. Then again, it didn't seem that much different from that life she lived back on the surface.
The puppet gestured towards the body he rejected.
“You love him-Cloud-why?”
It disturbed her the way he honestly did not seem able to connect himself to the body, and letting herself fade a little she looked up, trying to see some stars through it all. Anything to fix her concentration on.
“I didn't want to,” she said honestly, mentally going through all her realising why falling in love with Cloud just wasn't a good idea. “I love my planet, and knew it would always come first; I had to protect it, before my own feelings. No regrets and no distractions. I love you because I have to.”
It was amazing how easy it was to say such things when she knew he would never understand or remember them.
And then there was silence. Thick, heavy silence, wrapping around her and distancing herself from Cloud. There were two silences, and she could not work out which one was louder; that of the entire Lifestream, or Cloud's own personal silence.
“You left me!” Cloud said violently, and this time it really was Cloud. He almost screamed it, and the dead cowered.
“I had to,” Aerith whispered, claiming the silence as her own.
“I... I can feel your blood on my hands!”
“I tried to keep my distance.” Quieter still.
“You hurt me!”
“I'm sorry.” She doubted he heard her.
Cloud's spirit was closer to his body, but still not entwined. He gripped his head in frustration, fading in and out as realisation and anger took turns to thrash out at him.
“And now I can't remember either of us,” he whispered.
Aerith said nothing, and she said it very loudly.
He hadn't remembered it all, not yet-had barely come to grips with the fact that he was Cloud-and his head was spinning.
“Did we have a life together?” he asked, finally, not in particular want of an answer.
“Never,” Aerith said with a smile, and her voice was as gentle as ever. Cloud could not help but smile too, somehow feeling that it was not all so bad. Down here life just didn't seem all that important; he wanted to stay, if he could, and knew Aerith could feel this.
Something struck him.
“It's cold down here.”
“You can feel now?” Aerith asked, voice ripe with both excitement and disappointment.
“Feel? Of course-my hands are shaking,” he said, confused by the accusation of being numb.
“Then your senses are returning.”
“Senses? Senses?” he asked, “Then how were we talking?”
Aerith smiled again, but there was something different about it this time. Even when she could read his mind she couldn't begin to comprehend the thoughts in his head or rationalise what was going on. Did he remember not knowing himself, remember being a puppet? Could he even remember talking to her, being part of her?
“It's like you said, Cloud; I am you. In this Lifestream, at least. Your body here is in ruin.”
She was thinking and projecting her words into him, and all of a sudden he was lost once more. His body was beyond being broken; even his voice wouldn't work anymore.
“Cloud's body... Cloud's... Sephiroth's?” He shook his head firmly. “My body.”
“That's right, Cloud.”
He continued shaking his head for a few more seconds.
“It's cold, Aerith. Can you help me?”
Aerith felt a flood surge through her, and Cloud felt her smile before he saw it.
“You remember me now?” she asked, desperately hoping.
“I didn't forget, if what you say is true,” he said slowly, not sure of what he was saying, but confident in his words. “Because I think I might be Cloud. It's me, isn't it? And you-you sold me a flower once. Died in my arms. But can you help me?”
He was closer to his body now, so close that Aerith could barely see his spirit's green glow weave around it. And he was smiling, eyes still sewn shut, lips trembling as he breathed; she moved closer, and it was enough to make her feel alive again. The seconds did not turn to days, and she was cheerfully sad that he had to go. There was a world for him to save after all, and he didn't belong down here just yet.
“I'm dead now. Just a spirit. I can't fix your body.”
“But where do I go, Aerith?” he seemed to have grown attached to the sound the name made so quickly. “I'm lost,” he admitted, knowing he meant in more ways than one.
The Lifestream was pressing gently and Cloud was slowly being lifted to the cracks in the planet's surface, back towards the ocean, arms and legs still binded. They were close enough now that sunlight was beginning to filter through once more, and in the bright light she could see that his body and spirit were threading themselves together. She knew that his mind was still else where and his body would not work without it, but with any luck there would be a strong current further up to take him to dry land.
“Don't worry. We can be lost here together, just for now,” she whispered with a promise.
“In these cold waters?” he asked, but did not seem to mind.
The shadows danced on his face once more, but this time eyes opened, clear and blue.
And I walk in the cold waters with you.