It's been a while since I looked at this story. Getting back into things is hard. Idk. It feels a bit off, but I can't tell if that's an issue storywise or just because I'm going through one of those patches that isn't quite writer's block, but just a lack of motivation or care to write anything in general.

At least it's a long chapter and stuff - finally - actually gets done.

They were the last to leave the tour bus.

Sephiroth stirred slowly, putting on the act of waking from a deep sleep in case anyone looked their way with suspicion. Nobody did. The other tourists filed out and dispersed, until it was only the driver left, remaining stubbornly at the wheel while she fiddled with some paperwork.

"Hurry it up, boys," her voice drifted back.

Sephiroth had wished to disembark unobserved, but it was not a huge hindrance to do otherwise.

"Apologies," he said as they filed past, all of Cloud's weight leaned against Sephiroth's side. "My friend fell asleep on the journey and is slow to wake."

No further comment was made, and the delay had at least given the rest of the tourists time to scatter.

It was late – the last hints of sunlight had vanished as they crossed the river into the start of the canyon proper, and now the only hint of Cosmo Canyon's signature orange glow came from the firelight that bathed the town. It seemed anyone who had travelled this late intended to stay in the town overnight.

Sephiroth considered accommodation as he carried Cloud up the steps that lead to the town's center. He was more likely to gain an audience with someone who could aid Cloud during the daytime – and if the negotiations ended badly, there were more transport options available. (Sephiroth would prefer to avoid attempting to hotwire another car, if possible. That had not gone entirely well last time.) But Sephiroth was impatient after a day of sitting still on boats and coaches, and the fewer people around at this time meant less witnesses. If things went badly.

Sephiroth would not be well-liked here, he understood that fully. He represented ShinRa; he was the essence of what many people here stood against. But he did not wish to approach these people with deception – that would only exacerbate their distrust.

Negotiations were delicate things, and he had never been entirely at ease with them. People could react unpredictably, and once deviated from his regulated script, Sephiroth had difficulty in salvaging the situation. It had on more than one occasion forced him to resort to his primary method of engagement - violence. He truly did not wish to kill anyone here.

(There was a very good reason missions of diplomacy were not left to SOLDIER.)

Waiting until morning would give Sephiroth more time to plan, consider what he would say and what reactions he may garner, and how to proceed from there. But for all that, his imagined scripts would likely bear no resemblance to the reality. It would help little.

Sephiroth quickly scanned the town, mentally mapping its layout. He had not been here before, only read about the place. And there had been a map – cartoonishly simple and only partially useful, but better than nothing – in the back of one of the brochures he had gathered in Costa del Sol.

The town of Cosmo Canyon was built into the side of its geographical namesake. The largest area was a plateau, featuring a central bonfire and entertainment area – to make the most of the tourist draw, Sephiroth suspected – with the surrounding buildings built either back into the cliff or suspended above it, accessible by ladder. They were mostly public buildings; inns, shops, restaurants and bars. The more residential areas were above, in the higher levels of the cliffs. There was only one stairway to access anything above the main plateau, and it was guarded.

Sephiroth stood still for a moment, trying to dampen his sense of foreboding. He did not find it comfortable talking to strangers at the best of times, and even less so when so much was on the line.

He touched Cloud's cheek. "I will do my best for your sake. Please forgive me if it is insufficient."

Sephiroth removed his hat, sunglasses and the ludicrous tourist shirt (he was not making a first impression wearing that – he had kept his plain black tank top underneath). No deception.

He remained close to the canyon wall, wishing to remain out of the view of the majority, but not in any way that could be misconstrued as stealth. What was that training, from before they had given up on him? Open body language, Sephiroth recalled that one. Calm tone. It would probably do him well to keep his request and story as simple as possible.

The man on guard looked bored. He caught the movement of Sephiroth's approach, but didn't bother to look closer. "This area isn't open to tourists," he yawned. It was a phrase he clearly had to repeat far too many times a day.

Sephiroth stepped closer, into the light. "My friend is sick. I wish to speak with someone who can aid him."

No, that had been too calm. Robotic. Creepy. Sephiroth was no good at this.

The guard stood up straighter at that – Sephiroth could tell the second he recognised who had approached. Eyes wide; fear, then a quavering resolve.

"ShinRa scum are not welcome here."

Sephiroth had been called worse. "My friend is sick. I wish to speak with someone who can aid him."

"You've got doctors in Midgar, haven't you? Get out. We don't want you here."

"They will not help him. I wish to speak with someone who can aid him."

"Well, find someone else. Cosmo Canyon doesn't do favours for your kind."

"My friend is sick. I wish to speak-"

"Alright, I get it!" The guard swiped at the sweat beading his upper lip. He knew of Sephiroth. Everyone did. He knew he could be snapped in half in a moment. Although his confidence had increased slightly with each non-reaction from the silver demon, they were at an impasse. Sephiroth did not show any sign of moving, and the guard was not foolish enough to risk his life provoking a goddamn war machine.

Some of the expressionless mask shifted from Sephiroth's face. "Cloud does not deserve to suffer for ShinRa's crimes. I only wish to find help for him."

The guard briefly glanced down at the comatose man in Sephiroth's arms – he hadn't paid much attention before, the kid certainly looked ill and in need of help – but his glare snapped back into place almost immediately. "You are not welcome."

"Let me speak to one of your elders. Once I am content Cloud is in good care, I will leave."

Sephiroth did not want to leave – he could help, he was certain, if he could utilise their connection to his advantage – but if it were truly necessary he would.

The guard did not seem at all happy with the situation. He was an older man, heavyset but still a good head shorter than Sephiroth. He was there to stop nosy trespassers, not deal with this.

"I'll let Bugenhagen know you're here, but if he says you leave, you do it. And if you move from that spot while I'm gone, I will personally boot your ass out of my town. Understood?"

It was an empty threat, and a foolish one. The man irritated Sephiroth, but – diplomacy. It would do no good to anger these people. Still, it irritated him to be spoken to in such a manner.

"My friend is sick. I wish to speak with someone who can aid him," Sephiroth repeated calmly.

The guard's mouth twitched in annoyance. He spun on his heel and stormed up the stairs, muttering under his breath about Lifestream-sucking monsters.

It was a petty revenge, but Sephiroth was satisfied.

The canyon walls echoed the sound here; barely noticeable, but enough to be of benefit to Sephiroth's enhanced hearing. It seemed the man who had been guarding the place was making the situation well known, if the swelling murmur of voices, spreading and multiplying through the upper cliffs, was any indication.

Fair enough. Sephiroth would have done the same in the face of an unknown threat – spread intelligence to the forces, ensure they were prepared and aware they may be called to action if required.

Still, he hoped he would not be required to face a mob of anti-ShinRa civilians. He did not wish to kill anyone, but protecting Cloud was his priority... it would only end badly for all of them if it came to that.

Sephiroth held Cloud protectively, tight against his chest. He could hear the voices returning – the guard, amongst others. They were speculating about Sephiroth's intentions. Apparently they seemed to think he was a spy, to gather information to send back to ShinRa or, more likely, to murder them all in their sleep.

Ridiculous. If Sephiroth had wished to do that, he would have simply walked in and slaughtered them instead of wasting time attempting to gain their trust.

He suspected explaining that reasoning would not go down well.

A tinkling laugh accompanied the party as they descended the stairs. Bugenhagen, the guard had said. The name sound vaguely familiar to Sephiroth – a name he had heard Hojo mention once, and although he could not recall what it had related to, he remembered the disdain with which it had been uttered.

He was accompanied by four other men – the original guard whom Sephiroth had spoken to, and three others who had also clearly been picked for the job of defending their elder.

Bugenhagen, the elder in question, certainly looked the role; wisened skin and grey beard and robes. Despite his age, his eyes still seemed to be bright with interest and mischief. They softened with sympathy as Bugenhagen's gaze fell on Cloud.

"Ah. Your friend is sick, I hear."

"Yes. I... do not know how to help him," Sephiroth admitted. His words came out stilted, forced. He did not know how to speak to these people.

"And so you seek answers here."

Bugenhagen stared at them – no, at them, but beyond them – and Sephiroth had to stop himself from physically flinching. He had felt... something. The sensation came via Cloud; it was a stirring in the ripples of the Lifestream, like their mental connection, but wrong. A different frequency, foreign. It made the hairs on the back of Sephiroth's neck rise.

It only lasted an instant, and was only the lightest of touches, and then it was gone.

Bugenhagen hummed and nodded thoughtfully to himself. "It is true. That is your only purpose."

It was not a question. Bugenhagen knew.

Sephiroth stared hard at the unassuming old man, immediately certain he had been the cause.

Sephiroth had heard of people with sixth senses, intuition, those who were said to be able to touch the current of the Lifestream and know things they could not have. They were few and far between, enough to be as good as non-existent in this day and age, and Sephiroth had always dismissed them as frauds – a habit picked up from Hojo, no doubt.

But now he reconsidered. He had a new, first hand appreciation of the Lifestream and of mental capacities that otherwise would have seemed absurd. If he wished to help Cloud... an open mind was necessary. It seemed Bugenhagen, whether intentional or not, had reached out and read something in Sephiroth's energy in order to evaluate his sincerity. That, at least, was Sephiroth's conclusion.

Good. If he were capable of such a thing, perhaps the elder would be of greater use to Cloud's recovery than Sephiroth had dared to hope.

The men were arguing – petty, pointless arguments, that Sephiroth couldn't be trusted, ShinRa, demon spawn, he'd heard it all before – but Sephiroth was not paying attention. He was reappraising Bugenhagen in light of this new revelation, and it seemed Bugenhagen was equally reevaluating them.

"Oh ho ho, how curious. Curious indeed. Now, what is it you say ails him?"

"Mako poisoning," Sephiroth answered curtly. He did not wish to go into details with the other residents listening.

"And what ails you?"

Sephiroth stayed silent for a long moment, uncertain. Was the elder aware of the connection Sephiroth and Cloud shared? Although he had somewhat come to terms with it, even feeling its absence in the moments Cloud's awareness waned, he could not say he understood why or how such a thing had come about. And that unnerved him.

"...I do not know," was all Sephiroth could answer.

A clap of hands brought Sephiroth back from his thoughts. "Well, bring the poor boy up! No sense catching him a cold on top of everything else!" Bugenhagen chuckled and led the way, floating up the stairs.

Sephiroth stared, already considering Bugenhagen to be, quite possibly, the most bizarre person he had ever met. He seemed the direct opposite of the ShinRa scientists Sephiroth had grown up among. But perhaps that was the best thing for Cloud now.

Cloud's head lolled against Sephiroth's shoulder. Sephiroth chose to stare down at him rather than acknowledge the glowers and distrust on the faces of those he passed as he followed Bugenhagen into the heights of the town.

Sephiroth made a hum of displeasure as he returned to himself. His chest burned, breaths shuddering as though he had been underwater. He must have forgotten to breathe again.

A thread of concern wound its way through Sephiroth, the energy starting from where his hand held Cloud's.

"I am fine," Sephiroth said out loud.

The concern only deepened – Cloud was frowning at him.

Perhaps Sephiroth was pushing himself. But he had been pushed to his limits before, for reasons as insignificant as Hojo's whims, and this was something far more important.

It was the same as when Sephiroth had discovered a way of mentally protecting Cloud while on the ship from Junon. It left him feeling ragged, fragmented. The world didn't look quite the same afterwards – there were holes where his feelings and reactions should have been. It healed, and his energy returned to him, but he admitted it was starting to take longer each time.

They had been in Cosmo Canyon for four days. Sephiroth had spent most of his time trying to give Cloud the strength to come back.

He ate when he remembered, and he spoke to Bugenhagen sometimes, though there was little progress to report after the first day or two. He did not go out and face any of the townspeople – his presence caused distress here, it was better he stay away.

Sephiroth had informed Bugenhagen of the mental connection he experienced with Cloud, how he knew Cloud was still alive and aware. In return, Bugenhagen told Sephiroth of the lore of the Lifestream, and how it tied together with Cloud's condition. It was knowledge he did not necessarily believe, but Sephiroth filed the information away regardless.

Cosmo Canyon's culture possessed several practices designed to increase one's connection to the Lifestream; between the two of them, Sephiroth and Bugenhagen had taken some of these and attempted to apply them to increasing the bond between Sephiroth and Cloud.

Bugenhagen claimed that, in order for Cloud to regain consciousness, he needed to regain possession of his sense of self – something that was terribly easy to lose when inundated with the sweeping tides of the Lifestream, the echoes of a thousand lives that pulled his mind apart from the inside. That fit with Sephiroth's experiences of how it had felt in Cloud's mind.

Their bond was a shortcut of immeasurable benefit. Sephiroth could either protect Cloud from the Lifestream, giving him the space to remember and reform himself, or he could talk to Cloud and draw him out that way.

Only he fucking couldn't.

Even when Sephiroth wrapped his own energy around Cloud, protecting him from the onslaught, it wasn't enough. He tried to draw Cloud out, to get him to remember something about himself, his former life, but the energy that Cloud emitted just became dazed, confused... sometimes even scared and unwilling.

It was frustrating. They had come so far, and he still was not able to help Cloud. If Cloud never returned, what had it been worth? Sephiroth had thrown everything away, for this.

He felt Cloud's energy withdraw, shying away from his anger.

"I apologise," Sephiroth said, sighing. "I am.. merely tired."

He reached out – that was one of the few useful things he had learned while here, how to enter a meditative state and open himself to his connection to Cloud far more readily – and let Cloud feel his apology. His worry, his wish he could do more for Cloud.

Tired, the sensation echoed back at Sephiroth.

They could have conversations, almost, in a strange and only partially-verbal way.

Rest.

Sephiroth shook his head. "I cannot leave you to suffer alone." And perhaps there was a more selfish reason; while he was busy fighting in Cloud's mind, he did not need to consider the state of his own, or how he would deal with the fallout of... all of this.

Rest, Cloud repeated, this time tinged with his own worry and frustration. Stubborn.

"I want to help you."

You're not helping anyone if you let the Lifestream pull you apart instead.

Sephiroth sat up abruptly, ignoring the exhaustion that flooded through him. He rolled over and stared at Cloud. That was the most coherent thing he had ever gotten from him... and also Cloud had just been downright snarky.

Sephiroth had to acquiesce to Cloud's reasoning, however much he disliked leaving the young man to fend for himself. Sephiroth's own mental defenses were shaky and overused, whereas Cloud seemed much stronger, in no danger of slipping away. They had made good progress if his personality was starting to seep through.

It was slow progress, though, painstaking and frustrating.

Sephiroth got to his feet, fingers lingering for a moment where they were twined with Cloud's. He was not abandoning him, just going for a walk and to seek sustenance.

Cloud did the mental, energy-based equivalent of rolling his eyes. Go. I'm fine.

Sephiroth moved as though sleepwalking. It was late again – he had little concept of time while sharing Cloud's mako-tainted mindspace. Few residents were around. They still looked at Sephiroth with anything from distaste to outright hostility, but he was too tired to let it bother him.

They would have to move from this place soon anyway. Bugenhagen had been somewhat helpful, certainly informative if not directly able to aid Cloud's recovery. In terms of practicality, Sephiroth had been able to care for Cloud better – wash the mako from his skin, get him some decent clothes, make him comfortable even if it was only on a couch in Bugenhagen's lab-slash-observatory.

(A room at the inn would have been more suitable, but Sephiroth preferred to be as far away from prying eyes as possible. Bugenhagen was one of the very few who did not seem to resent their presence. And the machines in his workshop were fascinating.)

But Sephiroth did not wish to take advantage of the already fragile hospitality. And he had no means of determining how close ShinRa's forces may be to finding them.

He had not been flawless. The mistakes at Junon were costly – a man dead, the alarm triggered. Even if they had not been seen, it was enough of a clue for the Turks. They had a location and a time, they would easily conclude that Sephiroth had gone off-continent. Likely they could even find the ship he had taken and its destination.

They would have to move on soon. Sephiroth had wished to remain in one place until Cloud awoke, but he did not know if that would be possible.

The tourist area was more crowded, though not bustling. A few groups remained in the restaurant where Sephiroth went to buy his meal – they fell immediately silent when he entered.

He ordered his food to take away, since remaining there to eat would only extend the time spent in the awkward, resentful atmosphere. Sephiroth waited at the counter. He could still feel the gazes on his back as the patrons returned to their conservations, subdued now. Even though they spoke in quiet murmurs, Sephiroth could pick out more than one insult leveled at either ShinRa or himself.

It was no matter. They were hating an image crafted by the PR department – the 'Sephiroth' they imagined had little relation to himself. It was not personal. He knew better than to spare any thought for their words.

You think you're so above everything, spat the memory of Genesis' accusation. One of many, and all long in the past now. Perhaps he had not been wrong. But he failed to understand it was the only way for Sephiroth to function, even if it did mean he came across as aloof and withdrawn. If it resulted in his own isolation.

Sephiroth... missed Zack, he realised. He had never had many friends to begin with. Those he had once trusted were gone now; Zack was the only one who remained. But Sephiroth had left him behind as well. Nobody who he had ever been close to knew where he was – instead he was surrounded by strangers who despised him, with only a comatose young man who was, realistically, equally as much a stranger to him for company.

It hurt to think too much about it, a hollow ache in his chest. Sephiroth was familiar with the sensation, though it had not used to come so frequently or so strong.

He was just tired, and being irrational. Things would be better once Cloud awoke, and once he had a plan for their future. He had been so certain he had made the right choice – he would not let some wayward emotion convince him otherwise.

Cloud was safe. Sephiroth was no longer ShinRa's pawn. They could work the rest out.

Sephiroth took his food and paid, polite but curt. The door slammed behind him when he left.

The cool night air felt good. It was quiet outside, too. Sephiroth took his time winding back up the stairs to Bugenhagen's observatory, looking up at the stars simply to admire them rather than using them for navigation. Stars were rarely visible from Midgar – too much smog and light pollution. Sephiroth decided he liked being able to see them.

Hey, Cloud greeted upon Sephiroth's returned. Perhaps calling it a greeting was generous. It was a swirl of Cloud's energy that buffeted against Sephiroth's own.

He had learned to interpret.

Cloud drew back, then reached out again, slower. Sephiroth did not reciprocate as he normally would. He was still fatigued and not feeling entirely willing to socialise.

Lonely.

Cloud meant him. Sephiroth huffed a short half-laugh. After all, what business did a weapon have feeling lonely?

He felt the change like a chill in the room.

Although it was hard to proceed with no scientific basis for his observations, Sephiroth had identified two key components in this new form of communication he shared. There was the specific energy signature that he knew to be 'Cloud', like one might know a person's voice, distinct from the surging, eroding energy of the Lifestream. Then there was the vibrational component, a specific frequency of the energy that seemed to convey Cloud's feelings and intentions.

(Sephiroth could not sense his own, except in distorted feedback via Cloud, but Cloud must have been able to sense him the same way Sephiroth could sense Cloud.)

The frequency Cloud was communicating with had dropped. It didn't feel like it had been a conscious decision on Cloud's part, merely a reaction. He had felt something in Sephiroth's energy, and it resonated within him.

Lonely.

Cloud knew what it was like to feel lonely.

Sephiroth didn't want to entertain the sensation any longer, but Cloud-

"Stop that," Sephiroth said.

Cloud trembled. He was trying, but it was like trying to hold back a dam that threatened to burst. Two sets of frequencies on the same wavelength, amplifying each other.

Sephiroth had spent so much effort on learning to increase their connection; how foolish to have not considered the need to cut it off. The ache in his chest was back, artificially created this time. The room was starting to swim, pins and needles in his fingertips.

Cloud was dragging him in, and Sephiroth did not know how to stop it.

He had dropped his food somewhere along the way. Sephiroth sank down next to Cloud, taking his hand and squeezing it harshly. As if he could physically drag Cloud out of the swirling energy matrix of his own creation.

That was an awful idea. The physical contact only made their connection stronger – made it worse.

Lonely lonelylonelylonely alon e

Sephiroth felt it as keenly as when he had been there; the door to a mako tank closing on a terrified child, experiments and tests, his inauguration to SOLDIER, standing in a sea of faces that looked up to him but were all closed off. The biting wind through the Nibelheim mountains as he chased after a nameless shadow, bruised and aching at the bottom of a rocky scree, being left there for dead.

Those weren't his memories. More surprised than he cared to admit, Sephiroth's focus slipped, and-

I didn't want you to see.

–it was dark, suddenly. Pitch black instead of mako green and ice cold. And Cloud... Cloud stood out of reach, his back to Sephiroth.

It took him several long moments to gather himself. "Ah. Splendid. Now I am in your mind as well," Sephiroth observed, deadpan.

Cloud jerked and turned to stare. "Get out," he hissed. "Get out!"

"I would love to, if I knew how." He tried not to be stung by Cloud's vehemence; after all he had done to try and help...

Cloud quietened at that. "What happened?"

"I wish I knew. Perhaps then we could undo it."

"Where did they go?" Cloud must have sensed Sephiroth's lack of understanding and elaborated. "The Lifestream, all the voices..."

They had hurt, but it was strange for him to be without them after so long. The quiet felt deathly, the isolation terrifying in its familiarity. Now even the planet had forsaken him.

Isolation.

"Clever," Sephiroth said slowly. Of all the things Cloud had been anticipating, a compliment was not one. "I cannot judge with any certainty how these things work, but I would put forward the hypothesis that, by amplifying and utilising our combined energies on a frequency purporting 'isolation', you may have in fact isolated yourself from the Lifestream's influence, at least temporarily."

Cloud laughed, though it was not a happy sound. "It wasn't intentional. And now I've dragged you into this mess as well. You... really are Sephiroth, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I'd kind of hoped I was just imagining that bit." Cloud sat down, curling his knees to his chest. "I didn't want to meet you until I'd made it into SOLDIER."

Sephiroth did not know what to say to that. He let the silence linger, but sat down next to Cloud until he was ready to talk again.

"I never made it. I was never good enough. And now you've spent so much time trying to help me, and I'm... stuck like this!" Cloud sighed, gesturing vaguely at the nothingness.

But that caught Sephiroth's attention. "You were part of the SOLDIER program. Do you know what happened?"

"I failed. A few times, actually." He said it matter-of-factly, but Sephiroth could still sense the sting Cloud felt in those words. "I don't... remember. My memories are all weird here. One of the last things I recall, though... I heard one of the scientists talking, the ones who do the mako tests for the SOLDIER exam, and I think one of my COs. Probably Jackson. He was always an ass and had it out for me.

"But, whatever. They just said... there was something weird about the mako tests. And Jackass told them I was... what was it? A 'pathetic runt' and 'never going to get anywhere in the army'? He said no one would miss me. And, hey. He wasn't fucking wrong."

For a moment the world beneath them lilted, a crack of green glowing in the distance like a lightning strike.

Cloud trembled for a moment, then shook himself. "Look. I appreciate you trying to help, but I'm really not worth it. So, you leave, and I'll get out of this mess without dragging anyone else through hell with me, and... I'll see you in SOLDIER."

"No, you won't."

Cloud flinched, immediately – incorrectly – jumping to the conclusion that Sephiroth agreed he had been failed for good reason.

"I am no longer part of SOLDIER, or ShinRa."

"...what?"

"I left when I removed you from the labs. I do not intend to return."

"You-" Cloud's eyebrows pulled together, shock and fear and disbelief. It was his fault.

"There is something more than just mako poisoning involved. I am equally as tied to this as you, through no wrongdoing of your own. We would do best to work together. Do you think you can wake up?"

"I've tried, but..." But he had been going about it wrong, still trying to suppress all the things he considered his weaknesses. He'd been trying to put on a front for Sephiroth. He couldn't hide and reclaim himself at the same time. Cloud shook his head and gave Sephiroth a weak smile. "Guess I just gotta try some more, huh."

Sephiroth nodded. "You may have greater success now that the Lifestream has been temporarily distanced."

"Uhm..."

"Hm?"

"You should probably get out of my head first. I mean, what if we both got stuck in the same body or something fucked up like that?"

Sephiroth gave Cloud a deadpan look, one that earned a small laugh from Cloud.

"While I agree that is a wise course of action, I am not entirely sure how to proceed in doing so," Sephiroth said.

Cloud rolled his eyes. "You expect me to wake up and you don't even know how to do it yourself. C'mon." Cloud stood, taking Sephiroth's hands and guiding him to standing as well. "You just need to... go."

Cloud reached out, gently pushing Sephiroth's sternum. At least, that was what his physical actions indicated. In terms of energy, it felt more like being hit with a train. More of those mako cracks appeared in the empty blackness, echoing like a cannon shot, but Sephiroth did not get to see the outcome before being forcibly jerked back into awareness.

He felt like he had been hit with a train. His breathing was heavy, heart pounding, muscles aching as though they had been tensed the entire time he had been in Cloud's mind.

The food Sephiroth had bought had long since gone cold, though it had somehow migrated from the floor onto the coffee table. There was also a note taped to the back of Sephiroth's hand.

'Come and find me if you wake up – Bugenhagen'

Sephiroth scowled at it. Useful.

It wasn't important, though. What was important was... Cloud. He still showed no change. Deathly pale, the shallow rise and fall of his chest almost imperceptible.

Sephiroth sighed, deep and exhausted. There was nothing more he could do now.

On shaky legs, he tidied away the food and a few items that had been knocked over. He had a borrowed futon that he laid out beside Cloud's couch. There were blankets somewhere too, but Sephiroth didn't have the energy to care about those. A pillow was more than enough.

It was curious how dealing with this form of energy, battling the Lifestream, left him far more worn down than any physical exertion had in decades. The weariness ran bone-deep, but Sephiroth spared one last glance at Cloud before giving in to the siren song of sleep.

Cloud's eyes opened.