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Cloud’s eyes snapped open all of a sudden, and it took him a couple of seconds to realize that he couldn’t hear the sound of Aerith’s quiet snores—that the space next to him was empty. In a heartbeat, he shot upright in bed—heart pounding and head spinning—and he was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. His gaze flickered around the dark room for any signs of her as his mind conveyed images of his worst nightmares—of flashing metal, of pooling blood, of glistening lake.
With his shaking hands clenched to his sides, he heard nothing but silence and his own breathing in the dark room, and he felt the panic rise quickly to his chest as he tried hard to push away the images in his head. It wasn’t until he caught sight of the pink ribbon laying inconspicuously on her side of the bedside table that he finally managed to calm himself down.
She was fine.
She was alive.
She was here. With him.
It was something he had to constantly remind himself, despite having woken up next to her every day for almost a year. Although he forgot much of what would have happened the other time, he had a feeling that no matter how much time passed, the memory of that particular moment would be burned into his brain no matter how hard he tried to forget it.
Taking a deep breath, Cloud let it out slowly before throwing off the covers to stumble from the bed. The light of the moon shone through the sheer curtains, barely illuminating the darkened room at all, and it was only then that he noticed the sound of raindrops pitter-pattering against the windows. With the floor creaking beneath his feet, he made his way to the doorway and placed his hand on the doorknob.
He stopped, hesitating briefly.
On one hand, she probably didn’t want him to worry about her. On the other hand…
He pushed open the door quietly, venturing forth into the corridor. The lights were off, and it was times like this that he appreciated his eyesight in the darkness. Aerith was curled up in a blanket, her arms wrapped tight around her knees as she stared straight blankly ahead. A frown creased her features, her teeth nibbling her lower lip, and she didn’t seem to notice that he was looking at her.
Clearing his throat slightly before he approached, his eyes swept over her as he took note of the way she held her body—the slight quiver of her fingers, the slightly panicked look in her eyes, and the tightness in her jaw. He sat next to her, his hand resting on her lower back; she relaxed against him, but didn’t turn her head towards him.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hey yourself,” she murmured, her voice light with forced cheer; it made his heart ache. Her gaze flickered up at him, meeting his eyes with a faint smile. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No,” he lied as he rubbed small circles onto her back, and they lapsed into silence again. The rain continued its relentless tapping outside, and he lowered his head to press a kiss to her temple. He kept his eyes on her for several minutes as his mind whirred. She was still tense. And she wasn’t talking.
After another pause, Cloud reached over to take one of her hands into his. The coolness of her skin contrasted sharply with his warm touch. “Do you wanna talk?” he asked carefully.
She hesitated for a moment before letting out a slow breath, and she shook her head. “I’m—”
“—not okay,” he cut in, squeezing her hand. She bit her lip, her gaze flickering downwards. “And that’s fine,” he reassured, his thumb rubbing over her skin in what he hoped was a comforting manner. She always wanted to seem so unflappable, so composed in front of everyone, even him. “Just don’t keep stuff bottled up inside, alright? If you don’t wanna talk to me, then talk to Tifa, or hell, call Yuffie, but—”
At this, tears welled in her eyes, and her shoulders slumped forward slightly. Cloud closed his mouth immediately, cursing inwardly; he hadn’t meant to make her cry.
“Sorry,” he mumbled quietly, watching as she took a shuddering breath and wiped at her cheeks with her hand. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s not you,” she whispered, turning her attention to him. Her voice wavered, and she attempted to blink away her tears as she sniffled. Cloud squeezed her hand again, lifting it up to his lips to press a kiss against her knuckles gently. “I had a nightmare, that’s all.”
He knew how much nightmares could hurt; he’d had more than enough of them himself. But there was something about the way she smiled to comfort him—or maybe it was the way her lips faltered—that tore at him and made him think that there was more to it than just a nightmare. His hand tightened on hers, just a little. “Aerith…”
She let out a sigh, averting her gaze as she pulled her hand away from his and wrapped her arms around her own knees once again. “I’m okay, Cloud,” she finally mustered, her voice sounding raw. “Really.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Her whole body stiffened, and for a split second, he wished fervently that he hadn’t said anything. Before he could apologize for his bluntness, however, she let out a small breathless laughter, and her lips curled into a wry smile just briefly as she cast a quick glance his way. The tension between them melted away instantly; she had a way of doing that. Always.
He couldn’t help but stare at the way her long, wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders as her luminous eyes glowed within the dimness of the room. Huddling in the blanket with her knees to her chest, she seemed so sad, so vulnerable, and it looked like she might crumble at any second. The tension that bled from her posture couldn’t be missed, and he wanted to do nothing more than to shield her and shelter her away from everything that was wrong in the world.
She leaned back into him, but she didn’t look at him. “You’re right,” she said, swallowing thickly before giving a slow nod. “I’m not okay.” He wanted to comfort her somehow, offer some sort of reassurance that everything would be fine, but he didn’t know how. She stayed quiet for a long time, still, her gaze focused somewhere distant.
“I’m here. And I won’t push. But if there’s anything…”
“I…” she paused, a flash of distress crossing her eyes before she continued, “I was dreaming about Denzel.”
Those words sent cold chills down his spine. Denzel, the boy who looked up to him despite him never deserving any of it, the boy who was suffering from the Midgar Pox, the boy he couldn’t save no matter how hard he had tried—the boy who had spent his entire day today curled up in bed from pain.
“...And about you.” Her eyes flickered towards him for only a moment before they flittered away.
His heart dropped to his stomach, and he swallowed the lump that was lodged in his throat.
“I feel helpless and powerless,” she murmured, the corners of her lips quivering slightly. “When I saw him in bed today—he was so weak and sick and in pain, and I just...I can’t even imagine the pain he feels—that you feel—having to fight through that every day.”
“Aerith…” Cloud breathed as his continued rubbing circles onto her back.
She continued as if she hadn’t heard him, “And I feel silly and stupid and I feel like I should be able to do something, but I just want—” Her voice cracked, and she turned to face him fully, reaching out to wrap her arms around his neck, and she clung tightly onto him. She buried her face into his shoulder, her entire body trembling, and he returned her embrace without hesitation, wrapping his arms gently around her as he held her close. “I wish I was strong enough, Cloud. I wish I could take all your pain away and be the one who hurts instead…”
Closing his eyes, he ran his hands along her back before pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I’m glad you can’t,” he muttered honestly. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her go through the pain he went through every single day.
“But—”
“No.” The tone in his voice left no room for discussion. “We’ll find a cure—together. But for now…” he trailed off, and without warning, he scooped her into his arm, lifting her up as he stood. “You’re going back to sleep.” Aerith blinked up at him, wide eyed, before giving a small, shaky laugh, and buried herself deeper into his hold.
“Okay, Mr. Bodyguard,” she murmured as she rested her cheek against his bare chest. “Together.”
“Together,” he promised.