FicWad

Lying on the cool loam of the forest floor, he was suddenly enveloped by a soothing warmth. It was above him, all around him, and suddenly below him as he was overtaken by a sensation of weightlessness that made him slightly giddy. It was the most unusual feeling he'd ever experienced, and yet--and yet, it was one of the most wonderful things he'd ever felt.

It's alright, now. I'm here now, and nothing will harm you.

That still, gentle voice was as warm as the nimbus that surrounded him, and he clung to it, letting it guide him out of the Geostigmatic haze. He'd never felt so safe, so secure.

I won't lose you.

Cloud awoke with a start, a hand shaking his shoulder firmly, but softly. He rolled over onto his back to see Vincent staring at him, a burnished talon pointing skyward and reflecting the light of the newly risen sun.

"You wanted me to wake you at sunrise," Vincent reminded him quietly. Cloud nodded and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. As usual, it appeared that Vincent hadn't slept. In the two years he'd known him, and all the time they'd spent on the road in search of Sephiroth, Cloud had never seen him sleep. He often wondered privately if Vincent was capable of sleep--or if he even needed it anymore, after all those years in the basement.

Cloud rose to his feet and retrieved his sleeveless coat, draped over Fenrir. As he buckled it closed, he couldn't help but feel a little bit envious. After all, if Vincent didn't sleep anymore, it meant he didn't dream anymore. Cloud hated dreams. They made no sense, and only seemed to stir up feelings and memories he'd rather forget.

Case in point: the dream he was awakened from, just then off the side of a lonely road near the Gongagan jungle. It's not that it wasn't a pleasant dream--quite to the contrary--but Cloud didn't see the point of it. Why did his subconscious keep going back to that night in the forest? Why did it keep shoving those feelings in his face? The flying in warmth and comfort and...

It was pointless, Cloud thought, pulling an energy bar from his pouch and taking an irritated bite of lemony granola. He didn't want to deal with it. Things were going fine, for once in his life. For the first time in years, he had a home and a family. He had a purpose, even if it was something as trivial as carrying Package A to Point B. That was simple. Cloud liked simple. It was something that seemed so maddeningly fleeting in his life, and now that he managed to finally catch it, he wasn't letting it go so easily. He didn't need dreams. He didn't want dreams. He'd had enough of them when Aerith died. When Sephiroth died. Dreams only complicated things, no matter how benign they might appear on the surface. Cloud didn't want to go back to that horrible place of doubt and longing and...

Otherworldly eyes stared at him, a question lingering therein. Cloud dug into his pouch and tossed Vincent a bar. Mirth crossed his friend's pale face as he opened the shrink-wrap.

"Sorry," Cloud chuckled a bit sheepishly. Vincent shrugged at him and approached the bike.

"Philosophical brooding over breakfast is a fine enough pastime, but sharing the wealth is simply polite," he chided with a quiet snicker, biting into the bar. Cloud turned away in embarrassment.

"If we push hard we can probably make it to Costa by sundown," Cloud pointedly changed the subject, and wrapped in this thoughts, absently started to toss the empty wrapper. However, before he could, Vincent snatched his wrist in a burst of preternatural speed.

"Every time you litter, a Cosmon cries," Vincent deadpanned. Cloud laughed and pulled away, putting the wrapper in his pocket.

"You're an ass, you know that?"

"So I've been told on occasion."

Cloud shook his head and mounted Fenrir. He pulled his goggles down over his eyes and grinned.

"Get on the bike, Chief."

Vincent finished his own breakfast and stowed the wrapper in his pocket, then climbed on the back with yet another melodramatic twirl of his cape, this one far less serious than usual. Cloud stifled a second burst of laughter and revved the engine. Gods, he was a dork. Maybe that's why they got along so well. Just as his foot hit the kickstand, he felt Vincent's arm wrap around his waist, and was a bit startled. Well, that was different. It's not as if he were in any danger of falling off, and he hadn't done that the day before.

Cloud felt "simple" slipping through his fingers again, in that feeling of warmth, his heart pounding in his chest as they took off. Those feelings from the forest were stirred up again, but this time he didn't have a threat to focus on, something that would draw out his soldier's sense of detachment. Just from a stupid touch.

A familiar giggle tickled his ears.

Gosh, didn't you learn anything at all?

Then she was gone, and so were the worries...at least for a little while.

Cloud smiled, and gave himself permission to enjoy the closeness, whatever it meant, at least for the time being. It didn't really hurt, and maybe...just, maybe it wasn't as complicated as he thought. Speeding down the road, through the jungle, sunlight streaming down through the trees, the warmth that clung to him...it was a different kind of simple, if he didn't think about it too hard. It was almost like old times, only without the sense of pressing urgency hanging over their heads.

This was Cloud Strife though, and over-thinking came as naturally to him as breathing. His heart pounded in his chest, and he didn't know what to make of it. That feeling didn't spring out of nowhere. It certainly didn't start that night in the forest, though it obviously kicked into high gear at that point. No, it ran much deeper than that, and deep down, Cloud knew it. At some point, he was going to have to confront it, but that was a scary proposition. It meant having to say goodbye to "simple" again. It meant incredulous stares from Tifa and the others, it meant having to explain that no, this wasn't the first time. It meant having to explain that there had been another, and that other hadn't always been that soulless monster with the demonic eyes that tried to take away everything he held dear.

That is, it meant all that if it wasn't just in Cloud's head. An arm clinging to him on the back of a motorcycle didn't mean anything. Neither did swooping down and saving him--any of his friends would have done that, had they been there. Maybe not in such a dramatic way, but he would have been rescued. Cid, Barret, Tifa, any of them would have. They always had each other's backs; it's just how it was.

It wasn't Cid, or Barret, or Tifa, however. It was Vincent Valentine. Now that he really thought about it, it had always been Vincent. Whenever he needed him, Vincent seemed to be there as a silent rock of strength and support. Always watching, waiting in the shadows, ever since Cloud found him in that godsforsaken creepy old mansion.

Out of all his friends, if there was one single person Cloud could rely on to consistently bail his ass out of trouble, it was Vincent Valentine.

Cloud wanted him there, too. During the Meteor Crisis, Vincent never left his side from Nibelheim all the way to the Crater, except the time Tifa sent them all away in Mideel, and he himself sent him away before the final battle. It was a sound tactical decision, Cloud thought to himself at the time. He was an ex-Turk, the best freaking shot he'd ever seen, and a valuable asset in combat despite the unpredictability of his monster forms. It would have been stupid not to constantly have him around. That was all. If there was anything else, it was just the Jenova inside him playing games with his head again--after all, Vincent had deduced almost immediately that he'd been injected with her cells, too. It was Reunion and nothing more that kept Vincent near him.

Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he'd eventually believe it.