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Bridget camps out in the woods to escape her stressful life and her responsibilities, the only place on earth where everything can take care of itself and her only.
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I can't help worrying. Because you're so To me. To us. Having a baby, I mean. And I hate that! I hate that I can't help you at all -- I'm going to have to just sit and watch you h-hurting, and knowing that it's my fault you're hurting and--". This time it wasn't her fingertips stopping up the spill of words; it was her lips instead, soft and smiling even through the kiss, nibbling on his bottom lip until he stopped making protests. Then she took his hands in hers, and kissed his fingertips, and settled his hands where she wanted them -- one arm about what remained of her waist, the other atop her curve, off to one side, where the baby was kicking her.
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I'll be fine. I know I will. How much do you trust me? I'm all about life, really. You know I'm good at things that have to do with life. And this is as pure and raw as life gets. So -- you know I'll be fine. You're going to have to keep Sephiroth calm, you know. I can't do everything when I'm in the middle of labor. Cloud blinked a few times. I mean -- Zack's even worse about watching people he loves hurt than I am He's the one who doesn't trust the world enough to believe that the crisis will always pass on, and that it doesn't have to mean the end of everything.
Aeris glanced up at him coyly, and even fluttered her lashes to get the full impact out of it. Cloud couldn't quite figure out a non-hysterical-sounding way to protest: wait, crazy man's xenobiology experiments, see also 'bad ideas Shinra has had' and 'altered blood chemistry,' not to mention 'they're both how much stronger than me to start with,' and you want to LOWER his inhibitions, and THEN ask me to keep him restrained?
When she started laughing at the expression on his face, he couldn't decide whether he wanted to complain at her taste in jokes or kiss her for letting it be a joke. No, seriously, Aeris, I mean it.
How the hell--". Aeris hadn't entirely stopped teasing him by the time they got back to the shrine. On the other hand, Cloud couldn't say he'd come out worse on the teasing scale, because even after he and Aeris were finished hanging the laundry to dry, Zack and Sephiroth were still picking flowers out of everything.
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Cloud tried really, really hard not to wonder what the vaguely pulsing blue-green slime covering several dozen orchids had come out of, just for starters. Zack looked like a demented Puck-fairy with his lopsided crown of tiger lilies and far-too-suggestive-looking orchids and a grin that said I have no shame, and Seph does ; lucky, lucky me!
Sephiroth looked like the goddess of the borderland between winter and spring, with a riot of tiny purple flowers spilling through that ice-pale hair and the pallor of his porcelain skin giving way to the verdant life-green striping of his tentacles. Also, Cloud thought judiciously, whoever she was, she was also a very proud and very offended goddess. Possibly related to cats, given how the tentacles kept twitching in a way that had nothing whatsoever to do with the contented pleasure of a dog's tail-wag.
Sephiroth held up a snarl of lilies tied in a military-regulation mooring knot around three tentacles at once, and arched one eyebrow skyward, with his pupils contracted all the way to slits. Cloud gulped hard. We've only got some tentacles and some combat training. She's got the entire bloody jungle listening to her! Tough Guy, I dare you to look her in the face and say 'no' the next time she says 'please,'" Zack chuckled.
Sephiroth turned the look on Aeris next. She countered with finesse, dropping her chin a little, looking up at him soulfully through her eyelashes, one hand poised atop the baby-curve as a silent but inescapable reminder. Cloud had to give him credit for not blinking, though his tentacles had gone very still with the concentration it was costing him.
Aeris tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear, and smiled shyly; she reached up to brush one delicate hand against his shoulder, then trailed her fingertips forward and down over the pulse-point in his heart, and then stepped close enough to lay her head against his chest.
There was something indefinably wrong, the morning that it happened. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, couldn't put words to her unease, couldn't be certain it was anything more than uncomfortable sleep and ongoing aches and the pressure of a storm front passing through. Zack was distracted and restless too, but then Zack was distracted by nearly anything. She could hardly call his tendency to glance out the eastern gate toward the glitter of the morning sunlight on damp leaves a presentiment of doom. Or else if it was, then the world must have been doomed years and years earlier, and was being awfully tardy about getting around to doing anything about it.
Sephiroth had left hours before dawn, well before the first wave of the storm broke; he'd gone to the deep, where the shifting pressure and the bash and crackle of thunderheads couldn't disturb him. Aeris almost wondered if he'd gone back to sleep in the ocean depths -- if he'd made himself a thoroughly under -waterbed, maybe lined with soft seaweed, for the times when the storms on the surface made too much racket to sleep in a mountaintop shrine with chickenwire windows.
If unwary starfish might nestle into his hair when he slept, mistaking the pale drifting strands for bleached seaweed, or if that was how he lured in some of those enormous yellowfins She'd have to tease him about that later, she decided, gathering up the breakfast dishes with Cloud and taking them outside to the dish-bucket.
When they came back in, Zack had left.
It was a little odd for him to slip away without a single word, because Zack was conscientious about making sure that someone was with her all the time -- and on top of that, he really did seem to prefer talking to breathing sometimes. But, Aeris told herself, it wouldn't be the first time he'd wandered off into the jungle for hours because some unusual, brightly-feathered bird had caught his attention amid the trees and he'd followed it home so that he could find out whether there were chicks.
Chicks would turn into more pretty flying distractions later, after all. Even for someone who'd grown up in a jungle not too far away from this island, he was constantly exclaiming about creatures and plants he'd never seen before. So she put it out of her mind while they dried the dishes and stacked them in a box with a lid heavy enough to keep the morning glories out.
Cloud took a look at the horizon, and picked up Sephiroth's sail-canvas umbrella when they went down to the beach so that she could float in the shallows for a while. She wasn't really worried until Cloud stood up and started wading away from her and toward nothing -- not toward the coming storm, not toward land and the shrine, just He was wandering through the shallows with no regard for the curve of the beach, following something in an unnervingly straight path toward the northeast.
He yelped when she grabbed his arm. She hadn't meant to grab quite that tightly, but his eyes weren't entirely seeing her, even when he turned to protest. He opened his mouth to answer as though it was supposed to be obvious, and then she watched the shock flare across his face when he realized he didn't know the answer.
And scared. It's not Zack either. It feels almost like them, but it's wrong-- ". To the northeast, Aeris realized in a sick rush of panic, is Midgar. Hojo's laboratory. And Zack was somewhere else. And Cloud had only had the barest beginnings of that thing poured into him; Zack'd had a lot more of it, enough to give him the changes. And Sephiroth had been the first, the one most damaged by it, the one Hojo had meant to use as the focus.
Either of them? Where are they now? Cloud shut his eyes tight, turning slowly, testing his way with hesitant steps through the water, almost as though he were trying to follow a scent; but when he settled on a direction, Aeris had to catch at his shoulders again. Don't listen to it. Aeris slid both hands under his arms, grateful for the water's buoyance, because it meant she didn't need to carry his weight, only to keep his head above the waves.
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Come on. We need to get you--" safe, she'd almost said, only she wasn't sure where would be safe from the voices in his own mind. The tide's coming in, Cloud, and I can't carry you right now Cloud turned in her arms and struggled to set his feet under himself again, but then he looked past her shoulder, and his face turned gray. It wasn't just a wave. Waves didn't rise out of the horizon like a wall three hundred feet high. Waves didn't blot out the noonday sun. That's not a tsunami, she thought, in the peculiar sense of timeless calm that came with the knowledge that there was nowhere to run.
The entire sea is rising up. Something writhed at the core of the blazing mass hurtling across the ocean, closer and closer and she wondered if she'd have time for a third breath before it hit because it wasn't just the ocean either; the living weapon at its core had demanded all of the unspeakable power in the deep -- and the Lifestream itself had risen to its need. How strange, she thought absurdly as the wave swept them both under. I'd really thought I was going to live Lost amid the green shining of a million dead souls all dreaming of power, Aeris held tightly to her sense of self -- glimmers of sunlight teasing at spring-green leaves; the deep slow roll of the earth's power beneath her bare feet, growing within her belly, heavy fruit patiently ripening toward the day when its own life would burst free -- and she held Cloud just as tightly, following the thread of her daughter's soul back into her father's when he tried to fray apart in terror.
She wove together her favorite childhood dreamscape from tendrils of power and from her own desperation, and dragged him into it with her -- an unending field of green grass and lilies, all the life that she'd never seen growing in Midgar, verdant and brimming over with life; and only then did she realize her childhood self had never dreamed of seeds or fruit, just of flowers. But then, as a child, she wouldn't have needed to dream a mother's dreams -- perhaps one day, if she grew to be old enough, her dream-world would be full of falling leaves and harvest-ripe wheat and air crisp with the first hint of snow.
But before she could grow old enough to dream of autumn, she needed to keep all of them alive. And then she needed to find their way out before their bodies forgot how to hold their souls, and then they'd better not have been swept out to sea in the backwash of that surge; but first things first She dreamed Cloud's shape back into being under her hands, careful of the details: the strength of his shoulders, the feather-soft, seawater-drooping spikes of golden hair, the pulse of his heartbeat; the sword-calluses he hadn't let himself lose, keeping up his training in the forest, playing with Zack.
Sometimes with Sephiroth too, when the General unbent his dignity enough to indulge his unspoken enjoyment of shamelessly showing off in front of such an appreciative audience.
And then there was that lifestrand that bound them all together, by Hojo's design; she almost wished she could cleanse Cloud of it then and there, but he wouldn't forgive her if it meant that they lost their most reliable link to the others. Because most of Cloud was brave and loyal and stubborn and shy and recognizably human, but there was that one nagging shadow of something other, something that didn't belong to this world. It was stronger in Zack, for all that his vivid, bright-burning self masked it better; it was strongest of all in Sephiroth, who'd never tried to fight against it until Cloud had hit him first with ten pounds of steel to the skull and then with pure, unwavering acceptance.
That alienness in them was a thread she could follow, although she didn't dare reach out yet, because it could still lead her to Hojo's newest creation as well. It trembled in different directions when she touched it -- strongest of all to Cloud, whom she held so tightly together at her side, keeping him safe from the chaos of the millions of voices of the dead. But, beyond her safe shelter, there were echoes -- one dim and fading, another discordant, another Her world flared into ash, torn away by a blaze of incandescent, implacable rage that poured over her like molten steel and seized:.
She couldn't even imagine herself breathing in the grip of such all-consuming, soul-devouring hatred, and she hurt for the soul that felt it, but it wasn't hurting her. It was wrapped all around her, white-hot like some unholy crucible of fury, but she didn't burn. She remembered having hands, and flexed her fingers a little, and found that she still felt Cloud's heartbeat under her palms when she wanted it badly enough.