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Cloud remembers the feeling of helplessness very well. In fact, it came around daily in the form of his lover, always glued to him.
Sephiroth was tall, always looming over Cloud's smaller stature like some sort of omnipotent god. His grey hair was thicker than blackout curtains, suffocating him when Sephiroth pins him to the floor. Lips that were supposed to be soft and gentle spoke cruelties like casualties. Now and then they would utter soft reassurances when Cloud had episodes. The harsher words he uttered would seem to float in the air and drill their way into Cloud's head, leaving invisible scars.
Yes, Sephiroth was a war hero, but he was also a master manipulator and an abuser. Cloud knew this. He knew it the day Sephiroth kissed Cloud for the first time, the day he proposed, and the day they exchanged vows that would soon be broken. He was everywhere. Slitted irises never left Cloud, be it dreams or daily life. He was the epitome of a cage and Cloud was a circus animal. Sephiroth was a labyrinth with a very clear exit, an exit that Cloud did not have the strength for.
Cloud Strife knew what helplessness was like, and if he was unfortunate enough, he would feel it for the rest of his life.