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It was no secret that Cloud Strife suffered regularly from night terrors; ever since the team had started camping together, that much had become apparent. They came and went each night without fail, looming over him and manifesting as soon as the former SOLDIER showed any signs of falling asleep. Yet despite their frequency, the subject of these nightmares would rarely ever change; the scenes themselves had become so familiar that if it weren’t for the splitting headaches he would receive upon trying to recall them, Cloud would have likely started confusing them with reality.
A tank full of green, the acrid taste of mako overwhelming his senses. The vague feeling of drowning as his lungs filled with liquid. Green. So much green. The muffled garble of a zealous researcher, the rhythmic beeping of the surrounding machinery. The cold steel of his bloodied restraints, blinding lights shining relentlessly overhead. Surgical instruments poking and prodding at sickly flesh. Green eyes. Black robes. Reunion. Jenova. Reunion. A kind soul freeing him from his confinement. The ominous drone of a Shinra helicopter. Reunion . A sea of soldiers. Silence, and then...rain.
Each time Cloud woke he would be met with the familiar, yet painful feeling of static and electricity shooting through his skull. Sometimes, if he was quiet enough or if the team had endured a particularly arduous day, his companions would be able to sleep through it, but more often than not, they too would be jostled awake by the sudden disturbance. As time had gone on, Cloud had learned to better control his reactions (the first time Barret had tried to wake him, his first impulse had been to lunge for his neck), but that didn’t necessarily mean that the dreams themselves were getting any better.
They only worsened following Aerith’s death.
Each night he would see her kneeling serenely at the altar, hands clasped and eyes closed, fervently pleading for the Planet to heed her call. He remembered drawing his weapon against his will, the voice in his head overpowering his own thoughts. He could feel his pulse ringing violently in his ears as his trembling hands tightened their grip on the sword’s hilt. Cloud would take a single step forward, and then another. His vision would blur as the blade would move of its own accord. Do not deny me.
Stop! This isn’t what I want!
The Buster sword would continue to disregard his command and instead began its ascent over and behind his head. Aerith’s eyes would remain blissfully shut, unaware of the impending danger. By the time they opened and Cloud noticed her ruby orbs, it was far too late.
Your eyes…they’re…
“ ...iky? Hey, Cloud!...oud! Sna...out of it, man!”
You can’t be…!
Embrace me.
He would bring the blade down without hesitation.
“Cloud!”
Cloud jolted up with a start, his breaths shallow and ragged. Sweat clung to the back of his shirt, and he could already feel the moisture building up behind his eyelids. Barret tentatively leaned over him, his hand hovering over his shoulder; even though it was still dark, Cloud could practically feel the concern radiating off the older man’s features. In a rush of embarrassment, he shot up into a sitting position and looked around, silently praying he hadn’t woken anyone else up. Thankfully, it did not appear that he had; Cait Sith’s inanimate form lay undisturbed at the far side of the tent, and the loud snores reverberating off the walls indicated that Cid was still sound asleep.
“Had another nightmare, didn’t you?”
If only it was just a nightmare.
“I’m fine,” Cloud replied stiffly.
Barret leaned back, his lips pursing into a frown. “Son, that’s the fifth time you’ve had one this week. There ain’t no way you’re ‘fine’.”
Too exhausted to dismiss his assessment, Cloud opted to respond with a noncommittal grunt. He half-expected the man to follow up with another of his long-winded speeches, but Barret went surprisingly quiet at his typical reply. Cloud chanced a glance up at him through disheveled, golden spikes. The man looked...conflicted, as if unsure how best to navigate the situation he was presented with.
“You uh, you want me to cast Sleep on you?” Barret scratched the back of his head.
Cloud shook his head and rose to his feet. “I think...I think I’ll take my shift early tonight,” he mumbled over his shoulder as he made his way to the tent’s entrance.
He didn’t wait for a response.
The cool night air greeted him as soon as he stepped outside, the sweat on his arms and back causing him to shiver. Not gonna get any sleep tonight...might as well make myself useful, he thought, his eyes drifting to the sword he had embedded securely into the ground earlier that night. The weapon had taken quite the beating since they last made camp, and its exposure to the constant snowfall would probably rust the blade if left unattended. Deciding that a proper checkup was in order, he reached into one of his pockets and fished out a cleaning rag and whetstone; use brought about wear, tear, and rust, so he always made sure to keep them handy.
Cloud noiselessly removed the Buster Sword from its resting place and made his way over to the small campfire they had set up. An unfortunate blizzard had halted any attempts his team had made to continue their ascent up Gaia’s Cliff, but luckily they had stumbled across a rather spacious ice cavern to take shelter in for the night. When they had first entered, he had been too tired to think about anything besides pitching the tents, but now that he had a chance to really look around, Cloud couldn’t help but feel captivated by his surroundings.
The cave’s interior was cooly fluorescent, the mineral deposits residing beneath the ice bathing it in ethereal light. Crystalline structures protruded from the snow-dusted ground, and a number of large stalactites clung tightly to the ceiling overhead. The walls themselves, tinted cerulean and peppered with little flecks of white, vaguely reminded him of a clear night sky. Further in lay a meager supply of firewood, as well as the remnants of what appeared to be a tent—presumably left behind by past travelers.
A gust of air shifted his attention to the storm raging outside. The wind howled relentlessly through the night, kicking the snow up from the ground and whipping it in all directions; even with Mako-enhanced senses, Cloud’s vision continued to remain enshrouded in white. He sighed. There was no way they would be able to push forward tomorrow, even if the blizzard did let up soon.
As he took his place by the fire, Cloud’s gaze fell on the other two members currently keeping watch over their camp. Nanaki lay curled up by the campfire, his head resting atop his paws. His fur coat was still somewhat damp from the day’s journey, and every now and then he would stand up to shake off the melted snow, but for the most part, he looked quite comfortable. Vincent, as silent as always, remained vigilant by the cave’s entrance, the cold seemingly having no effect on his body. His cloak fluttered wildly in the wind, and if it weren’t for the mist that escaped his lips with each quiet exhale, Cloud could have easily mistaken him for a statue.
Neither of them made any attempts at conversation, and for that he was grateful. They both probably knew the reason he was out here; this wasn’t the first time, after all. Quietly, he seated himself next to Nanaki and set the Buster Sword across his lap. Maintaining the weapon took a great deal of time due to its size, but he couldn’t argue with the results a sharpened sword brought.
“Did you have another one?” Nanaki eventually asked.
The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. “I’ll be alright.”
His four legged friend cast him a skeptical look, but otherwise refrained from pressing the subject any further.
“You know, sharpening a blade of that size doesn’t necessitate that much force.”
Cloud fell silent at the observation.
He finished making repairs quicker than he had wanted to. The Buster Sword, now sharpened and polished to a sheen, stood proudly to his left, its tip firmly planted in the icy ground. Resolving to busy himself once again, Cloud then unclipped his pauldron and gave it a once-over. Several screws had been lost to the local wildlife, but it was nothing that couldn’t be fixed. He had cobbled together that particular piece of armour during his pre-AVALANCHE days, so the missing parts were fairly cheap and easy to replace, but it would be some time before he would be able to purchase any replacements; even the nearest town was still a few days away. So much for that, he thought as he let the crudely fashioned article tumble out of his hands.
Nanaki had since retreated back to the guys’ tent, eager to get some rest now that the snow had seeped out of his fur entirely. Vincent, however, remained by the cave’s entrance, his eyes continuing to scan the area for potential threats. His hand rested firmly on his holster, and judging by the infrequent shots he fired off into the darkness, it was for good reason. Cloud followed his gaze outside, watching in silence as the snow continued to fall.
His thoughts abruptly drew him back to that fateful day. He had failed her. He had thoroughly, utterly, and completely, failed her. Failed as a leader. Failed as a bodyguard. Failed as a friend. He was too weak. He wasn’t strong enough.
He never was.
Aerith’s wordless scream echoed through his mind, constantly reminding him of his sickening reality: he had let her down. He’d let everyone down.
You have failed again, haven’t you?
Cloud gripped his head and shut his eyes as the memories he had long since buried suddenly came flooding back.
He saw a town, his town, alight in flames.
He saw his mother’s charred body lying completely still amongst the rubble and corpses.
He saw Tifa at the base of the reactor, unconscious in a pool of her own blood.
You are too weak to save anyone.
“Cloud...promise me...don’t...don’t let it be for nothing.”
The plate had collapsed despite his best efforts; Biggs and Jessie had died in vain.
But through suffering, you will grow strong .
He watched Aerith’s lifeless form fall limply over the Masamune. He wanted to scream, he wanted to shout, but the words stuck to his throat, suffocating him. His eyelids brimmed with hot tears as he stared down the length of the darkened weapon. The blade protruding from her chest dripped with his weakness, with his failure.
And yet, it wasn’t his blood that stained it.
Isn’t that what you want?
His eyes flew open, allowing a single tear to roll down his cheek. How many more would die because of his weakness? Barret had already fallen once, and had it not been for the Whisper’s intervention, he would not have survived. Would Aerith have lived if they were still present? Was destroying them really the right thing to do? Or was this bound to happen regardless?
The Shinra VR presentation flashed through his mind. He had witnessed Barret’s death at the hands of Sephiroth several hours before it had actually happened; could it be that it had somehow tried to warn him of events to come? Had Aerith or the rest of his team been with them during the presentation, would they have died too? What of Tifa? Was she next?
Cloud’s heart sank at the mention of that last possibility.
He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost Tifa, and frankly, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t even want to entertain the possibility, but the show’s contents had lingered in the back of his mind for longer than he wanted to admit. Losing Aerith had only brought it back to the forefront of his thoughts, constantly reminding him of the fate that could come to pass. Barret had died already, but Tifa hadn’t, and if she was going to die, the Whispers wouldn’t be around to save her. Even worse, he could very well be the one to kill her, if his actions at the City of the Ancients were any indication.
The thought troubled him greatly.
He was too deep in his thoughts to notice the faint rustling coming from the girl’s tent; it was only when he felt the warmth of a blanket being draped around him that he returned to reality. Ruby eyes smiled softly at him as he turned to look up at her.
“Can’t sleep?”
His eyes drifted outside. “No. Thought a bit of fresh air would do me some good,” he answered quietly.
Tifa nodded in understanding. “It was another nightmare, wasn’t it?”
“...Yeah.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
For a brief moment Cloud contemplated telling her, but the nightmare (or rather, the memory) was still too fresh, too painful for him to bring up at the moment. Besides, it wasn’t as if he was the only one affected by her passing. Tifa and Aerith had been nearly inseparable on their travels across Gaia; Cloud could only imagine how badly the flower girl’s death had affected her. He shook his head, and to his relief, she made no effort to continue the conversation.
He studied her from the corner of his eye, quickly taking note of how her hair was a bit more tousled than usual, or how she wrapped her arms around her knees in an attempt to hide her shivering. He frowned. It was just like her to put others’ needs before her own.
“Tifa…”
She glanced up at him, curiosity and concern apparent on her features. Cloud bit his lip.
“I–Aren’t you cold?” he asked, his gaze unmoving from the storm outside.
“...A bit.”
His arm lifted without hesitation, a silent invitation for her to join him. Tifa shyly scooted closer, allowing Cloud to wrap one end of the blanket over and around her smaller frame.
“Thank you, Cloud,” He heard her whisper.
He nodded, but his attention remained elsewhere. The wind, as if seeking to make its presence known, howled bitterly into the night, but Cloud hardly noticed; his own thoughts swirled incessantly within the confines of his mind, creating a storm capable of muting even the blizzard outside.
He needed to ask Tifa what she saw that day at the Visual Entertainment Hall. He needed to make sure she knew of the potential danger she was in, and that he couldn’t guarantee her safety if they continued on the path he had set before her. But despite his best efforts, the words remained lodged in his throat.
“Tifa…” he managed to say after some time had passed, “are we doing the right thing?”
“Hmm?”
“Should we have killed the Whispers?”
She frowned at the question. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s true that they’ve done a lot of good for us–they’ve even saved our lives once or twice–but they harmed us just as much; I still don’t understand why they did the things they did that night at the pillar. They were certainly helpful, but they could also be unpredictable, dangerous even.”
“They stopped Barret from dying,” he said flatly.
Her expression fell as the realization dawned upon her, and judging by the look she was giving him, she definitely knew where this conversation was heading.
“Cloud, you can’t blame yourself for what happened to...to Aerith,” she replied quietly, her hand reaching out to gently touch his arm. “None of us could have possibly been prepared for what happened that day.”
“But Tifa...I was prepared. I was there. I was right there with her. I could have…” he paused to wipe the moisture from his eyes. “I could have done something. But I didn’t. I wasn’t strong enough to do a thing about it. I almost killed her.”
She cut him off before he could continue. “But you didn’t, Cloud. You overcame that voice in your head and stopped it from having its way.”
He grimaced and slumped forward, his eyes flickering to the light of the campfire. “It didn’t change anything.”
Silence befell the both of them.
“...If we hadn’t destroyed them, she could still be with us. You saw what they did to Barret. They could’ve saved her just as easily.”
Tifa smiled sadly and shook her head. “But there’s no guarantee that they would, Cloud,” she started gently, “think of Jessie, of Biggs. The Whispers didn’t stop them from dying. They did everything they could to make sure they died . If they were still around, it would mean that our lives would be subject to their whims. They’d only save us if it was within their interests, or if the future they were fighting to ensure permitted it.”
“But that’s the thing. I...saw what a future without them would look like...at least I think I did. Do you remember what you saw back in that theatre at Shinra HQ? After the regular presentation, I mean.”
“Not really. I saw a giant meteor hovering over Midgar, but that’s about all I can remember.”
Cloud took a moment to compose himself before continuing. “ He was there. Sephiroth. I saw him in that presentation. He...he killed you, both you and Barret so quickly. I didn’t think anything of it at first, but that changed when we got to the President’s office. What I saw back there...it had to be a warning, a warning of what would eventually happen.”
Tifa shifted closer and turned to face him, her eyes searching for his. “....You’re afraid of what could happen to me now that the Whispers are gone, aren’t you?”
His silence confirmed her question.
“Cloud, we’ve made it so far without them, and until now, you never doubted or questioned the path you walked. I know that after Aerith died, the reality of our situation became apparent, but no matter how hard we wish for it, we can’t go back and undo things. It just isn’t possible. The only thing we can do is keep moving forward. We have to find Sephiroth. We have to stop him. We can’t let Aerith’s sacrifice be for nothing.”
His gaze drifted back to the storm outside in an effort to avoid her gaze. “...I know, but...I’m afraid.”
Tifa hesitantly reached a hand up to cup his cheek, smiling at the way he instinctively leaned into her touch. “I’m not going anywhere, Cloud.” She paused for a moment before adding, “you’ll always have me.”
“...You don’t know that,” he murmured.
She shook her head. “I don’t. I don’t know if I’ll live to see all of this come to an end. I don’t even know if I’ll make it past tomorrow. I have no intention of dying out there, but if something does happen to me, you have to promise me that you won’t blame yourself for it,” she said as she turned to face him fully.
He swallowed thickly. “What if it’s me? What if I lose control, and I’m the one who ends up killing you?”
Tifa fell quiet at his reply, allowing silence to envelope the cave once again. He could feel her fidget with the ends of their shared blanket, and for a moment he thought he might have gone too far, revealed too much. He was about to apologize when he felt her take his hand in his. Cloud looked up in surprise, taken aback momentarily by her boldness.
“There’s no need to worry over what ifs, Cloud. Live in the present. The future...it isn’t set in stone. We made sure of that. And...I’ll be here. I’ll stay by your side as long as you’ll have me,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper.
Cloud grunted in acknowledgment. “What about tonight?” he asked tentatively.
“Hmm?”
“Would you be willing to...I mean could you stay here tonight?” With me, he wanted to add, but he held his tongue.
Tifa tilted her head at his request.
“I just...I need to know you’re safe,” Cloud explained quietly.
Her eyes widened at his reply, and a blush spread across her cheeks. After a moment’s contemplation, she nodded and timidly shifted closer. Her head rested gingerly atop his shoulder, and in return, he wrapped his free hand around her waist, gently pulling her close. “Okay,” he heard her say softly, “I’ll stay.”
For the remainder of the night the pair sat in silence, listening to the ambience of the sounds around them. Where once he could barely hear the storm raging outside amidst the chaos of his own thoughts, Cloud was now able to hear even the quietest of noises. The howl of the wind, the crackle of their little campfire, even the quiet exhales of the woman curled up against him––he could hear all of it. His mind was at peace, content with the knowledge that the one he cherished the most lay wrapped securely in his arms. Once her breathing had evened out and he was certain she had fallen asleep, Cloud turned and gently pressed his lips to her temple, hoping that the gesture would convey what his words could not.
I will keep you safe. I promise.
He felt her snuggle closer in response.