childrenofbahamutlogs | Howling and Hollow (Cloud Catch-All)

Sephiroth feels Cloud drawing close to him, even before the blond gets very close. Partially Jenova, partially just Sephiroth's own awareness of when someone is focusing their attention on him. (Easier these days, now that he isn't famous and inherently the focus of most people's attention wherever he is. Then, he'd been living Cloud's nightmare - feeling watched and judged at almost all times, needing to constantly and consciously maintain appearances for the world. As with many aspects of his life, Sephiroth had hated it while entirely resigning himself to it because he had never been presented with any other option.) Politely, he waits until Cloud indicates that he actually is trying to initiate contact with Sephiroth before acknowledging him.

For all he knew, he was just...being kept under surveillance.

"Parties usually tend to be," he says, a comment that could sound snarky but which, for Sephiroth, is delivered genuinely. It's more sympathetic than sassy. Parties do tend to be loud, and this is why people like himself - and apparently Cloud - don't like them much. "But it's nice to see people enjoying themselves."

If the suggestion there is that Sephiroth gets more vicarious pleasure out of parties than personal pleasure, that's not inaccurate.

Cloud cannot find a hint of malice or sarcasm in Sephiroth's voice. No, he's just as painfully genuine as he was the day they were in the chicken pen. Is that a hint of sympathy? It makes Cloud's chest feel strange, even more than the idea of the man being relatable in any way.

"I guess. Still not worth the noise to me." He shrugs, before trying to sort all his thoughts out.

"I know you can't tell me a lot, but I got questions. And, I guess a bit of something new to...Report." Agonizingly awkward, but Cloud is putting the effort in here to initiate, God damn it! "New thing's memory related. The other stuff has to do with your little mini-me. Dunno if it's something we should discuss near a crowd."

"Likely not," Sephiroth agrees, turning to face Cloud. "Regardless of the potential for people to overhear private matters, such topics deserve my full attention. I expect we can head into the woods far enough to get away from the majority of the noise without running the risk of upsetting our hosts by straying too far."

Sephiroth was given guidelines to follow, and he's been following them carefully and without question. Usually he needs prodding from Angeal or Genesis (or both) to break rules.

"Right. This way." Cloud turns on his heel to stalk towards the edge of the party grounds, not even fully realizing he's turned his back on Sephiroth until the din of banjo music and excited festivities starts to die down and fade into the distance.

No katana through the chest to be seen. Nothing.

Cloud doesn't go too far, of course. He's already been chewed out by two Firsts for doing that, and he'd really rather leave it at that. Not that he thinks Sephiroth, at least this one, would ever lecture him. It just doesn't seem to be his style. How strange, being able to intuit or even vaguely understand the whims of a man he always saw as an unpredictable monster. Hell, understanding another person is not exactly well-trodden territory for the blond.

Cloud finally slows down when the noise is sufficiently far off. He whirls around and crosses his arms, expression taking on a slightly thoughtful look as his brow knits.

"That kid version of you. The hell is that about?"

Sephiroth isn't entirely surprised by the question - if anything, he's surprised more people haven't asked - but the phrasing of it has him tilting his head a bit. He's...barely being asked anything specific enough for him to even answer.

"He's a younger version of myself," he says, which really just...reiterates what Cloud apparently already knows. But what is he being asked to explain? "From a period of time immediately after my first deployment as a SOLDIER. Beyond that...you'll need to be more specific."

Yeah, as Sephiroth can see, Cloud is great at this.

He may be mentally kicking himself a little. Probably. Real smooth start. Still, finally the actual questions make it to the tip of his tongue.

"He's you. So that means what I figured out about him...Is about you, right?" Cloud is clearly trying to get to grips with there being not one, but two Sephiroths existing in this world. But also of the grim implications of certain bits and pieces that the miniature one gave him. Bitterness. Being trained to SOLDIER standards at age sixteen. Being a weapon, and forged into one probably so much earlier.

"Sounds like you two already know each other here too, then."

Just how much did Sephiroth reveal to the kid about Cloud himself- if anything?

Edited 2024-12-07 00:36 (UTC)

"Most things about our backgrounds seem to be identical so far as we've explored them, yes," Sephiroth says, a touch guardedly. He's not certain what Cloud is referring to, or what he's 'figured out', or how accurate what Cloud has figured out might be. "What are you referring to?

"But yes, we know about each other. I'm doing my best to...look out for him. I know what he's endured, what he's been deprived of. I want to offer him things I never had a chance of having - the things I always wished for, and wondered how I might have turned out if I'd had. Likely I would run the risk of spoiling him, if he would accept half of what I try to offer...but ShinRa has instructed him that to need or want any compassion or human contact is a weakness, and he is still in the process of unlearning such things. The indoctrination runs deep."

"Referring to a whole lot of that," Cloud says quietly, expression pensive. He can feel a pang in his chest at the sort-of confirmation of just how dire being brought up by ShinRa's Science Department is. It's probably even worse than his expectations, really. "The kind of living hell those bastards in the Science Department made for you. Not hard to get from how the kid was behaving. Some of the shit he said. Know what they did to Red, too."

Context. More of it, to shatter his worldview on his mortal foe. The man who was his hero.

Cloud doesn't know the half of just how much he can actually commiserate about the Science Department, far beyond merely the SOLDIER memories that are not truly his.

The blond pauses, considering. So Sephiroth's taking care of his younger self. Something inside him, foreign and not....Not quite his own seems to stir at that, radiating a sense of knowing understanding and approval. It dissipates as soon as it makes itself known, with Cloud actively shoving it back into the recesses of his mind. He's gotten quite good at doing that with the other voices over the last while. If that's that other presence again, it can get the hell out. The dragon soul, or whatever Angeal called it.

"...He giving you a hard time?"

"That still tells me very little," Sephiroth replies, arching an eyebrow. "I don't know what you two have talked about, or what conclusions you may have drawn from what he said. I can confirm or deny things he's told you, or theories you've come up with, but I would need to know what those things are to do that."

At the question about his younger self, Sephiroth merely shrugs. "No harder a time than I gave those who reached out to me in a similar manner. Director Lazard - " The formality is simply because Sephiroth assumes that's the only way by which Cloud would know Lazard at all. " - Genesis, Angeal." And Glenn and his squad, but...Cloud wouldn't know them at all, and the squad quickly decided they wanted nothing more to do with them. Why bring them up? Simply to hurt himself with the memories of them? "People who wanted the best for me, but had to deconstruct years of ShinRa's conditioning to help me accept the things they offered. If my younger self is difficult, then it is merely a reflection of how I once was. I can hardly begrudge him...or do any less for him than others did for me."

Cloud opens his mouth, closes it, and his brow knits in an expression of what only could be described as quiet confusion with a dash of self frustration. It tells little, largely in part because Cloud is uncertain how to fully put to words just what he thinks the boy- and consequently the man before him- went through. Let alone articulate his genuine concerns that he can hardly process or identify.

"Put a pin in specifics then. The kid has nothing to tell me besides criticizing my SOLDIER training and trying to evaluate me every damn time we talk." He's in deep on the indoctrination, that's for certain. Now Cloud at least has some perspective on where things stand and why in the present. "At least knowing where you stand on him being here and what the hell is happening on your end's good enough."

Cloud doesn't exactly feel confident he will find out much from younger Sephiroth directly anytime soon- who would he, a near stranger, be to pry? He knows he personally would hate it on the other end. Best to keep watching and listening for tells, anecdotes of training and conditioning, and the clues therein. The kid's made no effort to hide those things. Plus with some behaviors and general bitterness ringing incredibly close to home, it only leaves Cloud at even more of a loss as to what to do with the mini silver powerhouse. There's an instinct in Cloud separate from the dragon soul, or whatever, that urges him to exercise a certain patience with those who are younger. That maybe, just maybe, wants to help? Is it subconscious commiseration from a fellow stunted, bitter individual? Wanting to offer him something he's missing, as the elder Sephiroth is?

What he says next is much softer, and Cloud's expression shifts in that miniscule way that could be barely noticable...At least for someone uninitiated in interacting with or knowing him. "...I'm not gonna blame him for things. Haven't. Don't think he needs to know about specifics." Not now.

Edited (I accidentally hit post too soon there oops. Fixed.) 2024-12-07 07:32 (UTC)

"Agreed," Sephiroth says, looking relieved. "There's...a great deal I'm reluctant to tell him. If he knew what his life will look like, in its entirety...I don't know how he could keep going. Especially without the promise of the accidental afterlife I've found myself in, where I've actually been able to find happiness. I did have years of...contentment, I suppose, with Genesis and Angeal in SOLDIER. I was happy when I was with them. With Lazard, as well. But so much of my work in SOLDIER was...unpleasant, at best. Traumatic at worst. The three of them gave me a reason to keep going, but they couldn't erase the suffering...and eventually, I lost all three of them. And then lost myself, not long after."

He glances away. "How can I tell him about that? How can I tell him that what he has to look forward to in life is the loss of the people he's learned to love, culminating in madness and death? That he won't even properly die, but will be locked in a semiconscious purgatory of endless guilt and watching his body commit atrocities under his name? That the happiness I have now, the happy ending he thinks I somehow guarantee, is something outside the true reality of our world, that may never happen to him? The same way my own childhood years never involved coming to this place, even though he has?"

He closes his eyes. "I will...need to explain Jenova to him, at some point. I've told him the truth of our mother, which I spent my entire life searching for...and never even truly found until after my death. But his ultimate fate...I can't tell him. Part of me hopes that somehow he can be spared from it, but if he can't...no amount of guilt can make me feel as though he deserves to live with that knowledge." He breathes out, slowly. "I'm glad you agree."

It wouldn't be fair, telling a kid his future will be nothing but brutal tragedy that he cannot even escape in death. As aggravating as Cloud knows it is to be aware someone else knows more about you than yourself, this case is...Well, pretty dire. He cannot blame the older Sephiroth for his hesitation, or his relief in knowing Cloud won't contribute to the reveals. He directly saw the madness learning of Jenova led to with the Sephiroth standing in front of him. It would only go badly with a kid. "Yeah. Shitty situation. No easy way to tell him that would go well."

It makes him wonder just how bad his own situation is. He knows his future doesn't end suddenly per Sephiroth's indications. But what else?

What of the past? What memories are missing? Why is it this harmful to him, so much so all three Firsts walk on eggshells?

No use in brooding now.

"...I wandered into the woods, by the way. Something happened there- and now I remember a little more. From the future. Of what happened to me back home. I-" the blond goes tense. "Lost control. Completely lost my shit at the reactor in Gongaga. Saw your face. Heard your voice. You told me to channel my 'righteous anger' seeing someone I cared about hurt, and then convinced me that same person was Jenova wearing her face."

He falls quiet for a few beats, clearly perturbed. "When I came to my senses, I was covered in blood. Dead bodies with wounds I'd never inflict- needlessly violent. Plus...I pushed Tifa into the reactor itself. I attacked her. I tried to kill her."

And in the aftermath, he remembers what he told Tifa.

I'm no hero. It is like there's different people inside me. I don't know where they end and I begin. I think I must be falling apart.

"There is little that is easy to tell at all." Sephiroth shrugs slightly. "If there is some way to divert the course of his life, then what I could tell him may be irrelevant. If there isn't...he shouldn't have to live with that knowledge. It will be miserable enough to live moment to moment without spending his life dreading it."

Sephiroth listens to Cloud, but rapidly his expression of anticipatory understanding turns to an uneasy bafflement. "At...Gongaga?" he murmurs, half to himself, before he lapses into silence as he lets Cloud finish. By the time he does...Sephiroth looks, at best, perturbed.

"I...don't remember the events you're describing. The Cloud I knew...those things never happened to him. Not the way you describe. I would know if they had."

Then, quieter: "It may be that there are variations in our timelines that I hadn't anticipated." Deeply unsettling to consider, since that directly affects how much Sephiroth knows of this Cloud's circumstances, and how much he can truly do for him. "Either that, or what you saw was a fabrication...but I don't think there's any way to know for sure."

This of course complicates things. As if they could get any worse. Cloud watches the change in Sephiroth's expression and his own frown deepens. A steadying breath, and he's able to gather some thoughts on the matter.

"Yeah. Gongaga. She got swallowed by a Weapon, and the only way she made it out was because of the Whispers. I have no idea what the hell they want, or if any or all of them are on Sephiroth- uh, Jenova's side or not. Red once said they were arbiters of fate or something mysterious like that. I saw them a few places. The church in the slums. The train yard. They follow us around. Guide us places. I've seen them stop people-my friends- from dying more than once now."

He shrugs his shoulders. "Best we can do is compare our notes and see what is and isn't different. Gongaga...." Cloud pauses. Hesitates. A hint, so very slight, of worry enters his voice and eyes. "It felt familiar. But I've never been there. I ...Almost killed Tifa. Can a SOLDIER be defective?"

"Whispers?" The look on Sephiroth's face says, more clearly than any words could, that he's never heard of such a thing. "And the Weapons in your timeline are active already...they didn't awaken in my timeline until Jenova acquired the Black Materia. What threat to the planet can they sense in your world that would awaken them earlier?"

He shakes his head. "But perhaps...that is something best left talked about later. You say you almost killed Tifa; in my own timeline, it was Aerith. Though as far as I can recall, you only moved to strike, and were brought to your senses on those occasions before you could." He lapses into troubled silence for a few moments.

"I think to explain what is happening to you, and why, how you could be moved to hurt people you have no wish to hurt...I will need to begin to share some of the truths I know with you. But I will have to impart it gradually, in pieces. It's too much all at once. You unraveled it all at once in my own timeline, but that was with Tifa's assistance, and only after your mind had already broken and she was fighting to help you piece it back together. I am attempting something more...controlled. So I ask that you have patience."

He breathes out, slowly. "I need to help you remember what took place after the massacre at Nibelheim. Between that time, and when you arrived in Midgar. You don't actually remember anything of that time in your life, do you? Over four years."

More mysteries. As if they never end, it seems there may be more problems in Cloud's timeline at play if the Weapons are already awake. Sephiroth has no idea of Whispers either. Something Cloud mentally puts a pin in.

"Aerith..." the blond says softly, eyes widening. So he was out of control in both instances. But something bothers him- the fact he was able to snap out of it just in the nick of time in the alleged other timeline. No, in his own he became a machine, slicing and stabbing through the troopers in his way with a precision and brutality that in hindsight startles him. He can remember Tifa crying out for him to stop, that it was more than enough. When it comes to other human beings in the combat mix, Cloud tries to fight to incapacitate at best and makes things quick at worst. Clearly he is just more broken in this timeline. That has to be it, to have been smooth-talked into believing Tifa, his childhood best friend, was a fake. She has no scar he said, the rest melding into a blur (including the moment where Tifa indeed showed the scar from the Incident). So he's weaker. More dangerous in his own timeline.

Pieces, patience...It all frustrates Cloud, but the offer of something, finally, has his full attention. Sephiroth seems to mean well (what a bizarre thought), so for now, he accepts, with a nod. He will be patient. He just doesn't have to love the circumstances.

Cloud winces as he tries to think back to that specific time between Nibelheim and his mission with Avalanche. It has always been a nondescript haze, and the familiar, sickening tinge of mako-green clouds his vision when he digs too deep. His brows knit, a quiet, sharp exhale indicating the discomfort of it. Four years. It's a long time to lose.

"I just...Remember being stabbed. By you. Passing out. Then...hitching a ride on top of a train. Four years later. I used to tell myself it was just boring things and thats why." Denial, in a way, given the literal mental block that's always been there. "Just did merc work or something."

Edited 2024-12-10 14:31 (UTC)

"There is good reason you don't remember much of it. And as you might imagine, that time being boring would have been far preferable to the reality." He pauses, feeling out in his own mind how would be best to proceed.

"You don't remember it yet, but...you have personal experience with Professor Hojo." And he decides to drop a small bombshell - one that doesn't affect Cloud much, but one he supposes Cloud deserves to know, all the same. "My father."

Still...he can't look at Cloud as he says the words, directing his gaze away. The way his lips are compressed in the thinnest of lines communicates just how much he loves that fact...although, as it happens, Cloud also has some actually clear memories of Sephiroth talking about how pathetic and awful Hojo is, so he might even have known without the look on Sephiroth's face.

There's little he hates more than having any connection to Hojo at all.

"Of course you realize that when our group failed to report back from Nibelheim, ShinRa would investigate. Perhaps losing an entire squad might not have mattered to them, but the disappearance of their prize SOLDIER, their perfect weapon...it demanded an investigation. And as the man in charge of the project that created me, Hojo came to Nibelheim personally. Mostly they found corpses...but they also found people like you, injured or dying, but still alive. And when presented with a bunch of people he concluded no one would miss...Hojo was only capable of doing one thing." He closes his eyes. "Everyone who wasn't killed by me at Nibelheim...was turned into one of his experiments. And either out of spite at the loss of his pet project, in some strange bid to replace me, or simply out of his own ghoulish curiosity...what Hojo experimented on you and the others with was my DNA. He had harvested enough of it from me over the years. He injected all of you with it."

He meets Cloud's gaze again. "That is the connection between us you feel. That is the voice in your head you hear. It may take my voice and form to you, but...what you are experiencing is Jenova. Hojo infected you with it...with me. And like me...it is capable of, at times, conquering your mind and dictating your actions. You in particular may be more susceptible than most to its voice, with the way your mind and memory have fragmented; that uncertainty and doubt is ample fodder for Jenova to manipulate you, even at a low concentration. I likely have the greatest concentration of Jenova within me of anyone living, and yet it never took over my mind or my actions until I had a breakdown of my own."

He breathes out. "So while you may well be terrified of the influence it has over you, especially now that you know what it is...take comfort in that within my timeline, untangling the confusion of your memory essentially removed that ability for Jenova to exploit you. Certainly you never fell prey to it again, and there were many opportunities and reasons for it to try pushing you. That is our goal here, as well - to help you piece things together until you are truly sure of yourself - and it will likely shut out Jenova's influence in the same way. Your vulnerability to it is not permanent."

He holds Cloud's gaze. "But that is the truth of that period in your life. You spent much of the four years after Nibelheim floating in a tank of mako, in Hojo's lab in the Nibel manor. Another SOLDIER - one of our squad that was captured alongside you - escaped, and helped you to do so as well. And you needed the assistance, because you had an intense case of mako poisoning and were borderline comatose. I don't believe you fully emerged from your daze until you actually reached Nibelheim...until you met Tifa again."

There's so many hypothetical truths that Cloud Strife worried over, braced for, so many scenarios he played out in his mind knowing only hints and indications that something was horribly wrong from the others.

None of them could have prepared him for this particular truth. Or how sickeningly, perfectly well it slots in to the timeline of his fragmented memories. Or how much more horrifying it all becomes knowing Hojo did what he did to his own son. That fucking bastard. It's easily clear just what Sephiroth thinks of him, and Cloud is stunned at the man's ability to sink even lower than impossibly low.

"I- you-" Cloud feels his mind recoiling and fraying around the edges as vague, suppressed memories bubble up. Cold, cold, it's so cold, he's on a table, doesn't know where he is or what is happening, all he knows is the agony and pain and a figure standing above him with some manner of surgical tool, a needle, and a stomach-turning grin. It hurts. It hurts. Cloud staggers backwards with a hand up to his forehead, like he's been physically stricken. His eyes go wide, mouth twisting into a painful, shocked grimace as he doubles over.

Then another scene comes into focus. The entire world around him is silent, tinged with blue-green. He's floating, trapped, losing himself over and over again, every last ounce of fight and fortitude in his mind succumbing to the mako poisoning and something far more sinister. There's another thing he knows he's forgetting. Something or someone he so desperately tries to hold onto in those last, flickering moments.

Sephiroth didn't just suddenly go mad- it was Jenova, finally able to exert it's will, so eerily much like it did to Cloud himself in Gongaga. Jenova, who is in them both. Sephiroth is not just deeply woven into his life's path, but a part of him. He is drawn to the silver, in ways that finally have an explanation. It's horrible. It hurts.

He is likely more susceptible. It isn't permanent. Goals to move forward. Cloud hears the words Sephiroth says, and will remember them- but as it is now all he can do is fall to his knees, both hands now gripping desperately at his hair beneath his horns. Tears sting at the corners of his eyes, but the only sound he makes is one of choked pain.

This too shall pass- as all Cloud has and will one day endure does- but right now, the burden of truth is absolutely crushing. Even just part of it.

Sephiroth knows, knows, that he is likely to get a negative response here. That if he goes to Cloud, tries to comfort him, that Cloud is likely to reject him, maybe even violently - from the old trauma from Nibelheim, from the old-made-new trauma of this realization and their grim connection, from just being the (perceived) source of this new misery, from simply not being able to handle any more than he already is. Any or all of those things. The reasons Cloud could have for actually accepting concern for and closeness from him are perishingly few, the reasons he would shove Sephiroth away from him - physically and/or figuratively, and shoving is probably the best case scenario - overwhelmingly numerous and persuasive.

Sephiroth knows all this, and moves forward anyway. He can't not.

He kneels down in front of Cloud, lightly touching his arms. "I know." He knows better than perhaps anyone might, he supposes, except perhaps Zack or the other victims who survived Nibelheim. "But you're all right now, Cloud. He's not here..."

Cloud has endured a whole lot in isolation since arriving to this world. His painful dragon changes, adapting to a new lifestyle, finding work, living day to day- all done in solitude that felt jarring after traveling with people (Who he now fully realizes are important friends) for a long time. Any solace his dragon soul could have offered to this point, stifled, as Cloud actively tried to lock him away in fear of his voice being just another intruder in a fractured mind.

Perhaps it is loneliness and a desperate need for human closeness in any capacity that, despite everything, keeps him from recoiling from the gentle reassurance that Sephiroth offers. Perhaps instead it is because Cloud is so immersed in those new, desolate memories, that he cannot fully see what is happening in the present reality. Perhaps...Hidden hopes that alighted in the man since the talk in the chicken pen overpower the likely trauma response. It could even be all of the above, probably is.

Whatever the reason, Cloud flinches from the touch to his arms, but does not react violently. Instead, he whimpers again, shaking his head. He's so stiflingly vulnerable like this, even moreso as his glazed-over eyes turn up to look directly through Sephiroth. The touch works as an anchor, and through the haze Cloud tries to mentally reach for it. A fraction of the immense tension leaves his body.

I know. You're all right now.

That's the voice of his hero. Of his-

It is gentle, and saying something so different than the voice that drives him to rage or madness. Or the frigid tones edged with mania of the man who destroyed his home and his life. The tears begin to fall freely. Cloud speaks with a tone that is so very, very small. Frightened. Lost. The voice of a bright young cadet whose hopes and dreams were shattered to pieces.

"It's real. It was all real. Four years, four whole years, it hurts- who was I? Who am I???"

Edited 2024-12-15 11:50 (UTC)

"Cloud Strife." Sephiroth says the name softly. "A young boy from Nibelheim who struggled to make friends, but wanted them - and who also wanted to make a difference in the world. That is who you've always been, isn't it? And none of that has ever truly changed. No presence in your head, nothing that Hojo could do to you, could erase that. Even if you lose sight of it in the fog, the core of you remains there, waiting to be found again."

Cloud Strife. His name. That's his name. Always has been. Before, and after those four years. A quiet, lonely boy with a heart too big for his own good, and no real understanding on how to express it. One who hardened his heart to keep it safe, one who dreamed to change the world just like his hero. His hero, who is right here, and sees him in a way he's not felt (or at least thinks he's felt) since befriending Tifa in Nibelheim. Past the posturing, past the self-defending fronts, and past his own shattered sense of self.

Cloud needs more of that anchor. That steadiness. That contact bringing him back to the world around him. Something he's missed dearly since leaving home. One of his arms lowers, falls limp to his side, then reaches out after a few beats. Reaches, and lifts Sephiroth's hand from atop the other arm to grasp onto it. It's warm, and real, and contrasts just enough from the freezing mako tank and laboratory table to start to lift Cloud back into reality. There's a faint stirring, a flicker of light in his teary eyes, proof of that.

"Cloud....I'm Cloud..." Whispered like a prayer. "I'm real. I was real, am real. I-" a choked sound. He sees mako around him again, but the scene is less vivid. Flickering. Trees appear in the peripheral. Trees were never in the manor. "I'm... scared."

Sephiroth is certainly surprised when Cloud grips his hand, but...he's not about to protest. He grips the man's hand firmly, recognizing he's being used as an anchor and trying to provide all the steadiness that implies.

"It's all right," he murmurs. "It's all right to be scared. But also...know that you're safe. Know that there are people here who will help you, whatever challenges and fears you face. And know that, indeed, you are real. You always have been. No matter what Jenova says or does, it isn't you. It will try to blur the lines, but you are separate from it."

Cloud gives Sephiroth's hand a squeeze. Takes in a shuddering breath. He's on the lab table again, but the image of Hojo above him is shuddering, as though coming apart at the edges. More and more trees break in to the picture, allowing the man to tease apart that this is a vision on top of reality. Wherever the trees are, that is where he needs to be. Where he actually is.

He needs to follow the feeling of a grip around his hand. The warmth of it, something he hasn't felt in a good long while. It is, truly, just the anchor he needs. Sephiroth's words that follow, even more so.

The kind of comfort he hasn't heard or felt since he had family around him, as far as he can remember. But now, those words come from his hero. Sephiroth tells him he's real and always has been, and that being afraid is okay.

It may as well be every dream he ever had, fulfilled. Time will tell if it stays that way when Cloud fully comes to, and realizes just what is going on, and with who.

"I'm not there right now, am I?"

More of the memories fall away. Reality presses just around the seams of it all. He's drawing near it.

"Of course not." Sephiroth tries to make his voice as soothing as possible. He's not sure that comforting people has ever been a skill he's excelled at, but he draws on as much of his years of experience with Angeal as possible. Angeal knows how to comfort people. If he can mimic him well enough... "You're here, with me."

And while to Cloud that might qualify as its own nightmare, Sephiroth honestly thinks that for anyone who's been subject to Hojo, even his murderous self when puppeted by Jenova would be considered a marked improvement. And Cloud...genuinely does seem to recognize that he isn't Jenova, either. He simply hopes that Cloud holds on to that awareness while his mind is already under such strain.

Howling and Hollow (Cloud Catch-All)

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Cw for human experimentation, medical trauma imagery

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