Work Text:
“She’s awake.”
The two words—two very simple words—engulfed his every thought, echoing over and over again through his mind until he thought he was becoming delirious.
“She’s awake.”
Cloud could recall with clarity the way her long hair floated on the surface of the water, the way her eyes were closed as her face appeared peaceful, the way her fingers were threaded together, the way her pink dress fluttered in the water…
...the way her lifeless body felt as he held her close in that tranquil lake before it sank into the abyss.
And even though he had technically never experienced that memory, the image replayed itself over and over and over in his mind, his heart clenched—
Until the violent sounds of someone’s muffled retching, broken by short bursts of gasps, interrupted the light and restless slumber he had managed to fall into. With a grimace, he looked up at Yuffie from his sitting position briefly before his face dropped back on top of his knees, a small groan escaping his lips.
“Urrrrk…” she moaned from his right. “Curse this fricken… airship! It’s loud as hell in here and—Ughhh…!”
Right. They were on the Highwind. It explained why his chest heaved, why his stomach lurched, why his head spun, and why there were cold beads of sweat on his forehead and neck. And while it was certainly handy to have the airship at the ready, it didn’t make it any easier on him—or Yuffie.
Cloud looked at the metal flooring between his feet, and he felt his chest tighten again; he shut his eyes and sucked in air, forcing himself to breathe it out slowly through his nose. This time, he wasn’t sure if it was motion sickness or the exhilaration from the idea of seeing her again. The last time he had seen her, she had been motionless, her skin pale against the white sheets.
“She’s awake.”
The thought that she was alive, living, breathing, and that he would get to see her again—it made his breath catch in his throat.
What would he say to her first? Would he tell her about the way he had narrowly avoided falling into the Lifestream? Or how he had, despite his best efforts, still fallen under the control of Sephiroth and handed him the Black Materia with his own, bare hands? Or would he tell her about how at one point, he thought he would be publicly executed and wouldn’t have the chance to see her again?
“Hey, numbnuts! We’ve arrived!” Cid’s raspy, gruff voice came through the speakers.
It took him a few tries before he could stand up and lean against the wall without wanting to empty the contents of his stomach all over the floor of the machinery room. Yuffie, still with her head between her knees as she took deep, shaky breaths, was noticeably looking the worse for wear. Now that the airship was no longer being flown by Cid, rocking and swaying in the sky, he felt like he could walk again. Nonetheless, as he strapped his sword onto his back, his legs felt weak and it took him a moment before he managed to push himself to make his way up the stairs to the deck.
The first thing he noticed was the way everyone was gathered around the ladder, seemingly itching to get off the ship. It had been a long flight from Junon. The second thing he noticed was the way the biting breeze nipped at his cheeks and arms. And suddenly, as if remembering why they were here again, his heart pounded against his chest.
Aerith was awake and waiting and alive.
The thought felt so surreal to him still. Memories of the other time and what had happened constantly swirled in his mind, and there were nights he had woken up, fully believing that he had lost her again, only to breathe in relief upon realizing that he had done something right this time around.
Fluffy snow crunched beneath his boots as they made their way to the hospital, and when they finally arrived, he was thankful for the draft of warm air that welcomed them. Looking around, he was once again reminded that he was indebted to Reeve—though Cloud wasn’t technically supposed to know who was controlling Cait Sith in this time yet—for somehow managing to fly Aerith to Icicle Inn for rehabilitation once her condition had stabilized.
It wasn’t until Yuffie suddenly ran past him—her motion sickness forgotten—that he saw who it was at the lobby of the hospital. Aerith was sitting in a wheelchair being pushed by Tifa, and she laughed as Yuffie bent down to hug her.
He felt his heart stop, and he suddenly forgot how to breathe.
Her familiar tinkling laughter sent a sharp pang through his chest, and the way her eyes sparkled with unhidden mirth made his heart leap. His steps slowed, and he felt content just watching the three of them share wide smiles as tears flooded their eyes from afar. He watched as the rest of the crew joined them, and he felt Barret’s firm clasp on his shoulder before he, too, walked past him to join the rest.
Watching her from a distance, studying her face with that absolute look of joy and happiness, he wondered how he had ever survived without it—how he could have ever been happy without her. It wasn’t until her gaze began to drift and look past the crowd to search for him that he dared to take a step forward.
Instantly, her eyes lit up and her parted lips curved upwards as she caught sight of him, and he felt a faint smile cross his mouth unwittingly, his hand shooting up to the side of his neck. And then, throwing caution to the wind, she stood up, her legs wobbling as her body swayed precariously. As if realizing the significance of what was happening, everyone took a step backwards, parting the way between them. It wasn’t until she nearly stumbled to the ground that he remembered that he had legs.
He raced forward, catching her in his arms as he pulled her close against his chest. And she laughed and laughed until her laughter dissolved into teary sobs, and all he could do was wrap his arms tighter around her as she held onto him until she cried herself out. His words were stuck in his throat, tears burned his eyes, and he wasn’t sure what to say in the first place because the last time he had seen her, she had been comatose and unresponsive, and he had had to tell himself that it was completely possible to never see her awake again.
What was one supposed to say when they realized they had defeated fate—had shattered destiny?
Finally, she pulled away just enough to look up at him, her green eyes—eyes that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to see again—shining bright as her cheeks flushed. “Say something, Cloud,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “Anything.”
It made his heart stammer and he felt a strange sort of warmth envelope him—a warmth that only she was able to evoke in him. Selfishly, he tugged her back towards him; her head tucked under his chin and he felt himself relax, engulfing her into him.
And for the first time in a long time, Cloud relaxed—he felt like he was home.
“You’re here,” he murmured, almost in awe.
“I know,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “Thank you.”
It was good to simply have a moment to have her in his arms again—
“Uggggggh. Just kiss already, you losers!”