Forgive and Forget (Final Fantasy VII, Sephiroth/Tifa/Cloud, G)
Title: Forgive and Forget
Author/Artist: queenoftheskies
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Word count: 519
Prompt: - Final Fantasy VII, Sephiroth/Tifa/Cloud: Shared forgiveness - "Sometimes sharing was the hardest thing to do... other times, it was the easiest."
A/N: None
Sometimes, sharing was the hardest thing to do...other times, it was the easiest. But when two of the most stubborn men on the planet were involved, it was, more often than not, a difficult concept to get across.
For Sephiroth, it was a reluctance to release control, to admit that he was wrong and no longer in command, no longer the most powerful force on the face of the planet. For Cloud, it was guilt and resentment. If he released them, he released a part of himself, the part that had driven him both to help, and away from, others.
Tifa sat between them, wondering if there was any way the three of them would ever reconcile. Her first instinct had been hatred toward Sephiroth and anger toward Cloud, but she realized that she'd had a hand in her own demise and couldn't blame either of them completely for the emptiness and longing she felt.
"I'm...sorry," she said in a voice whisper soft, her hands clutched tightly together in her lap. "I know you love another," she said to Cloud. "I know I should never have had any expectations of you. I know I should never have expected..." When her voice broke, she turned to Sephiroth. "I--we--should have seen the signs. We should have stopped you, helped you, before you lost control of yourself, before Jenova..."
"I never knew how to tell you," Cloud blurted out, "how to tell you how I felt. So I hid my feelings and I...I let you think you were unimportant when...you weren't."
"I thought..." Sephiroth's voice failed.
Tifa wasn't sure whether it was his lack of expression or the devastation in his eyes, but her heart ached suddenly for his loss: the loss of his innocence, the loss of his belief he was right. With gentle fingers, she took his hand in hers, drew him closer until she could wrap one arm around his shoulders.
"He's the enemy," Cloud protested.
"No more enemy," she said, "than you."
"How can you..."
"You have the same cells inside your body," she snapped. "It could have been you that lost control..."
"I was never like him," Cloud growled. "I was...I..." He faltered, his expression twisted to despair. "She died..." He nodded toward Sephiroth. "He died...how can we ever..."
She offered him her free hand, pulled him close when he clutched it desperately, when the tears in his eyes spilled onto his cheeks. He hugged her close, sobbed against her shoulder until his tears were spent.
"We will never be the same again," she sighed into his hair. "None of us are left unchanged. But, if we hold together, believe in one another, forgive one another, perhaps we can make a difference, perhaps we can change our world for good."
"I'm sorry," Cloud whispered.
Sephiroth raised his head. "I am sorry, too."
Wrapped in one another's arms, their fingers intertwined, they knelt together, shared their sorrow and their guilt.
"I forgive you," she said at last. The burden in her heart eased.
And the darkness turned to light, the despair to faith.
Author/Artist: queenoftheskies
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Word count: 519
Prompt: - Final Fantasy VII, Sephiroth/Tifa/Cloud: Shared forgiveness - "Sometimes sharing was the hardest thing to do... other times, it was the easiest."
A/N: None
Sometimes, sharing was the hardest thing to do...other times, it was the easiest. But when two of the most stubborn men on the planet were involved, it was, more often than not, a difficult concept to get across.
For Sephiroth, it was a reluctance to release control, to admit that he was wrong and no longer in command, no longer the most powerful force on the face of the planet. For Cloud, it was guilt and resentment. If he released them, he released a part of himself, the part that had driven him both to help, and away from, others.
Tifa sat between them, wondering if there was any way the three of them would ever reconcile. Her first instinct had been hatred toward Sephiroth and anger toward Cloud, but she realized that she'd had a hand in her own demise and couldn't blame either of them completely for the emptiness and longing she felt.
"I'm...sorry," she said in a voice whisper soft, her hands clutched tightly together in her lap. "I know you love another," she said to Cloud. "I know I should never have had any expectations of you. I know I should never have expected..." When her voice broke, she turned to Sephiroth. "I--we--should have seen the signs. We should have stopped you, helped you, before you lost control of yourself, before Jenova..."
"I never knew how to tell you," Cloud blurted out, "how to tell you how I felt. So I hid my feelings and I...I let you think you were unimportant when...you weren't."
"I thought..." Sephiroth's voice failed.
Tifa wasn't sure whether it was his lack of expression or the devastation in his eyes, but her heart ached suddenly for his loss: the loss of his innocence, the loss of his belief he was right. With gentle fingers, she took his hand in hers, drew him closer until she could wrap one arm around his shoulders.
"He's the enemy," Cloud protested.
"No more enemy," she said, "than you."
"How can you..."
"You have the same cells inside your body," she snapped. "It could have been you that lost control..."
"I was never like him," Cloud growled. "I was...I..." He faltered, his expression twisted to despair. "She died..." He nodded toward Sephiroth. "He died...how can we ever..."
She offered him her free hand, pulled him close when he clutched it desperately, when the tears in his eyes spilled onto his cheeks. He hugged her close, sobbed against her shoulder until his tears were spent.
"We will never be the same again," she sighed into his hair. "None of us are left unchanged. But, if we hold together, believe in one another, forgive one another, perhaps we can make a difference, perhaps we can change our world for good."
"I'm sorry," Cloud whispered.
Sephiroth raised his head. "I am sorry, too."
Wrapped in one another's arms, their fingers intertwined, they knelt together, shared their sorrow and their guilt.
"I forgive you," she said at last. The burden in her heart eased.
And the darkness turned to light, the despair to faith.