Scenes from a Glacier

by Moonpants

It was the wrong thing to do, and she knew it.

But when Tifa paused in the doorway the others had left through and turned to see Cloud sitting on the sofa, tucked up in his most defensive posture, staring out the window at the snow... she just couldn't help it.

The group meeting had been somber, short, and uncomfortable, as they all had been since the party had left the City of the Ancients. Cloud had informed them briskly and detachedly of the advice Holzoff had given him about scaling the cliff, and suggested that they stay at the house overnight, as the mountain-climber had offered. There were no objections; the decision was made; and the group scattered hurriedly.

/Of course there were no objections,/ Tifa thought now, bitterly, as she stepped back into the common room, halting on the threshold. /You don't try to argue with someone who's been impossible to talk to for the last three days./

/And that's no exaggeration, either. He's like... like he was when I first found him. _Worse_ than that. I thought he was just--upset, about what happened to Aeris--we _all_ are--but this... it's like talking to a wall./

And yet, she was about to try it.

She took a few hesitant steps toward him. Cloud didn't look up, didn't even move; nothing more than she'd expected, but a little less than she might have hoped. Tifa bit her lip, and toughened her resolve as best she could.

/I don't know what the problem is--but this has to stop. It _has_ to. He holds us together; we depend on him. Doesn't he see that?/

"Cloud?" she queried, somewhat timidly. He made a noncommittal sound, eyes still fixed out the window.

/Well, I guess that counts as a response--/

"Are you-- are you okay?" She made her way over to sit on the edge of the couch that faced his, leaning earnestly toward him. "I just noticed, you've been really--quiet, lately... are you feeling all right?"

"Mm?" Cloud glanced over at her. His eyes were cold, controlled, masked. The light and warmth that could make them beautiful was gone; now they were oppressive, empty. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Back to the window.

Tifa let the silence lie for a long moment, hoping for something--/anything/--more from Cloud... but there was nothing. He gave every impression of having all the feeling and life of the snow that piled in drifts outside the house.

Except she knew better than that.

/No you don't. You're not getting out that easy--/

"Cloud, will you /please/ just talk to me?" she burst out suddenly, vehemently. Cloud turned to her with a carefully neutral look of mild surprise and irritation.

"I just did," he returned crossly, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "What else do you want me to say?"

"You know what I mean." Tifa leaned forward, seizing his hand. "I don't know what's wrong, but I would if you'd /tell/ me," she continued softly, staring up into his eyes; he looked away. "But don't just act like this; it's not fair to anyone."

"Act like what?" His voice was low, sullen.

"/This/!" She gestured helplessly. "Like you did back at the beginning, like--like you don't care about anything. I know you better than that; and this is hurting all of us. Just say something--/anything/ real, Cloud--just--/feel/ /something/!"

And finally, at those words, there seemed to be a reaction. Cloud turned his head to look at her, sharply, as she spoke, and got slowly to his feet... and Tifa found herself shrinking back against the couch as she looked up at him. There was an emotion in his eyes, all right--but not one she would have preferred.

Anger. No, not even anger--/rage/.

"Feel something?" he repeated, in a deathly calm, deathly quiet voice. "/Feel/ something? Well, let me think about that a little." He turned to the side, in an attitude of careful consideration, uttering something that was somewhat like a chuckle in the same manner that a rabid grizzly was somewhat like a stuffed bear. "You know--I'm not sure what you mean. /Something/--that's a pretty broad term. You mean /something/ like... well... what about agony, because somebody I really cared about was just /killed/ right in front of me?" His voice remained queerly, horribly calm as he rounded on her, staring her down as he went on. "Or maybe... horrified, because it was almost /me/ who did it? There's a lot of possibilities, aren't there?"

"Cloud--" Tifa began in a small voice.

"Or how about scared out of my mind, now that I know my /worst enemy/ can control me any time he feels like it?" Cloud continued over her, escalating slightly in volume. Poison began slowly working its way into his words, until he was flinging them at her like daggers. "That's a good one! And maybe /twice/ as scared because next time he might decide not to stop! Because maybe next time it might be /you/ with the sword through your back! Or Barret! Or even /Yuffie/, for God's sake, and /my hands/ that put it there! Maybe a little nervous about getting too attached to you guys, since any one of you could be the next one dead? What about /guilty/, because I put right in Sephiroth's hand everything he needed to kill everyone in the world? Maybe even /more/ guilty because I was right there when he killed her, and I just /watched it happen/! Or incredibly angry, or almost crazy, or how about just like /shit/? God, there's so many I can hardly /choose/!"

"Cloud, stop," she whispered, voice trembling slightly.

"These are a lot of great /feelings/, aren't they?" Cloud shouted nearly into her face as he leaned over her, as his own face contorted with rage and grief. If she had wanted emotion, here it surely was; even a few tears were tracing, apparently unnoticed, down his cheeks. "You're absolutely right, Tifa, I should hang on to these as tight as I can. It'd sure hurt me to miss any of this, wouldn't it? Here!" He swiped a hand harshly under his eyes, wetting it with the tracks of tears, and thrust it at her. "You want me to /feel/ something--is /this/ good enough for you?"

"Cloud, I'm sorry, /stop it/!" Tifa burst out at last, a bit shrilly. Her voice finally broke jaggedly on the words, and she buried her face in her hands, turning away from him.

Cloud stopped all at once, as though a spell had been broken. He looked down at her for a long moment; and though Tifa couldn't see it, for a moment his face was lined with a far deeper pain.

/Tifa, I'm sorry--/ his mind murmured brokenly at her. /I don't want to hurt you but I can't let you near me--/

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, almost evenly but for a slight tremble, when he could speak without betraying himself. "I just don't really /want/ to feel anything right now, if it's all the same."

He turned abruptly and went to the far wall. Stared at it blindly. Hoped she would leave.

/It can't hurt if I don't care--but I _do_ care, and it _does_ hurt, and this isn't worth it--oh God, Tifa, just go, or I don't think I can keep doing this--/

"Cloud--I didn't--" Tifa began desperately behind him.

"No," he cut her off with a cold, detached calm that was so false it should have been painfully obvious--/would/ have been painfully obvious, had she been in any kind of state to read him properly. "Of course you didn't."

It was only his imagination, he knew... but Cloud thought he could /feel/ her flinch. He heard her stand up, and closed his eyes.

/Go away,/ he willed her silently. /_Please_ just go away./

"Cloud, you don't have to attack me," Tifa's voice reproached gently, stalwartly, as she came up behind his shoulder. "I didn't do this to hurt you--"

"I know," he interrupted her again, harshly. "You just wanted to have one last try at making me into who /you/ want me to be. Right?"

A sharp breath behind him. She was silent for a moment; he could sense her struggling between the hurt and the anger. The shot had told. He had hit her just as close to the bone as he'd been trying to. He was almost bitterly proud.

"You know, Cloud," Tifa said in a low, shaking, measured voice, "you're not the only person who feels anything."

Cloud turned then, looking her straight in the eyes. For a second, the look of open pain, guilt, and caring in her face came close to undoing him; then he forced himself to shore up his wall of apathy, and hid behind it before he could give up the charade and fall apart at her feet.

"Then I guess I'm the only one I care about," he responded in a deliberately, calculatedly offensive tone. "Sorry to let you down about how well you know me." His voice lowered then, took on an even crueler note. "I don't think you really know me that well at all, as far as that goes. I'm not a lot like what you're trying to get out of me. I don't want to be your hero, and I /don't/ want to be your goddamn childhood friend. So why don't you go dig somebody else out of your past and have /them/ make you your pet promise? Do us all a favor; I'm getting tired of hearing about it."

Tifa recoiled from every word as though each was a slap; already thrown into emotional chaos, she was unable to keep her tears back as he finished, sealing a hand against her mouth as she backed away. Cloud turned swiftly back to the wall, partly to reinforce his facade of indifference... but also partly because he simply couldn't stand to see her cry.

For a moment she just stood, torn between a hundred conflicting impulses, trying to figure out something to do.

"/Bastard/!" she spat at him finally, helplessly, and abruptly fled the room.

Cloud waited for a moment, making sure she was really gone... and then he slumped forward against the wall, weakly, leaning his forehead on its cool plane. Half of him was relieved it was over, the other half suffering too deeply to even think. His head hurt; /everything/ hurt. His heart most of all.

/Absolutely. You took the words right out of my mouth. Oh, Tifa--/

*

/Goddamn mountains./

Cid shook a fresh cigarette into his hand from the slightly crumpled pack in his jacket pocket, casting a dark glare at the cliff that loomed outside the window before turning his attention to his lighter. He was still trying to figure out why a simple landmass had been able to instill such a potent and irrational dislike in him. Aside, of course, from the obvious fact that they now had to /climb/ said simple landmass.

/I hate mountains,/ he thought irritably, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning to stare gloomily up at the cliffside, cigarette jutting out of his mouth at a petulant angle. /People always making noises about how damn pretty they are, when all they ever do is just get in the way. Freeloading bastards./

/No mountain'd make me think twice if I was in the air. Shit--if we were in the air, we could drop a friggin bomb on that Sephiroth fruit. Blow him to kingdom come. But I got no wings, and if Shinra has their way--and Shinra _always_ has their way; that's what makes em Shinra--I'm not gonna have wings. That's just how it is./

/Goddamn mountains./

Cid pulled himself away from the window before he could delve into the more creative end of his vocabulary, wandering idly back toward the doorway that led back down to Holzoff's common room. /And the kid--what's up with him? He's been even weirder than usual the last couple days. Just what this traveling circus needs--a psycho leader. Shit, what a mess./

He stabbed the butt disconsolately out on the ashtray Holzoff had rather hurriedly left out for him, and had just started back for the window when he was suddenly crashed into headlong by a speeding Tifa.

"/Oof/!"

The impact knocked him back two steps, almost off his feet, and Cid looked down in mild surprise at the petite projectile. "Shit, girl, you trying to give me a heart attack? Where's the fire?"

Tifa choked out something apologetic and tried to squirm past him; but then her streaked face and lowered head managed to register, and Cid seized the young woman's shoulders gently, detaining her. "Hey--hold it a minute. What's wrong?"

She finally looked up and met his eyes, with the obvious goal of offering the dubious answer that nothing was wrong, she was fine, excuse her--and instead simply collapsed, sobbing weakly, against Cid, face buried against his chest.

He was startled, to say the least.

After a moment of utter bemusement, he was finally able to pull his head together enough to put awkward arms around her--rather uncomfortably--and supported her for another long moment, patting her back lightly. "Hey, easy," he soothed awkwardly, in a gentler tone than most would have recognized from him. "Easy. C'mon, don't do that... freaks me out. Here--" He maneuvered her carefully to a nearby couch, digging a relatively inoffensive handkerchief out of his jacket and pressing it into her hand. "Now sit down and tell me what the hell happened, okay?"

Tifa had already mostly pulled herself together; her breathing was hitching and uneven, and her eyes were swollen and still leaking a little, but that was really all. She allowed herself to be drawn to the sofa, and dropped on it miserably and gracelessly, scrubbing at her face with the handkerchief.

"It's stupid, I guess," she began in a small, choked voice, letting the cloth fall back to her lap and twisting it slowly in her hands as she stared down at them. "I don't know why I got so upset..."

"Well, you already did anyway," Cid interrupted gruffly. "So quit saying how stupid it is and tell me about it."

She managed a small, quick smile, then bit her lip and looked down again. "I--I wanted to know why Cloud's been acting so weird--so I talked to him, and--and I tried to get him to talk to me about it--" Her eyes brimmed again, and she gave them a swift swipe with the handkerchief. "--and I guess--I guess I got kind of mad, and I--I told him to stop acting like he didn't feel things... and... and he got--mad at me. And he--he started yelling at me, about--how guilty he feels, about--Aeris, and how bad he feels about everything, and how he doesn't want to feel that--and... and--"

A few fresh tears began spilling down Tifa's now-blotchy cheeks, but this time she didn't even seem to notice. "And I--I kept trying to talk to him, after that--and he said I was just trying to make him what I wanted him to be, and that--that he didn't want to be my friend, and I sh-should find someone else to m-make me a promise--"

She couldn't seem to get any more out, and instead brought the handkerchief hurriedly back to her face, rubbing her eyes with it brusquely to cover a fresh outburst. It was all right, anyhow; she didn't need to go on. Cid, who had been quietly, slowly going more rigid with anger with every word Tifa forced herself to speak, stood up then, laying a hand on her shoulder for a moment.

"You sit here, take it easy a minute," he advised quietly, still with that odd and atypical--though still typically gruff--gentleness. "I'll be back in five."

He was gone before she could even think to argue.

*

Cid found Cloud in the common room, leaning slightly, broodingly against a window. He paused in the doorway for a moment, waiting to see if the other man would speak first.

Cloud didn't, though he was quite aware of Cid's presence; instead, he ignored the pilot as obviously as he could, even turned away a little, insultingly. He firmly, utterly refused to let himself think. If he just--stayed empty, maybe he could stand a chance of surviving this second bout...

"Cloud," Cid said at last, slowly and measuredly, "what the /fuck/?"

Cloud turned irritably toward him. "What the fuck what?" he returned with feigned boredom.

"Tifa just crashed into me in the other room, crying like crazy from some really shitty things you said to her," Cid continued in an accusing tone, stepping into the room. "She's sitting in there now trying to pull it together, just cause /you/ decided it was international Be-An-Asshole Day."

Cloud tried very hard not to flinch at each word, and forced himself to turn indifferently back to the window. "So?"

Perhaps if Cloud had been facing Cid, he would have seen the flare in the older man's eyes, and would have been able to predict or prevent what happened next. Or perhaps not; the shift was so brief and gone so quickly that it was barely visible. One way or the other, however, as it stood Cloud didn't even have time to realize Cid was moving before the other man's fist connected solidly with his jaw.

Surprise doubled the force of impact; stars burst before Cloud's eyes for a moment, and he lost his balance, staggered back and fell before he could catch himself. He struggled to get up for a moment, furious, giving Cid back with enthusiasm some of his more colorful expressions--and then the older man's foot came down on Cloud's chest, startling him into silence, and Cid leaned over him, aiming a finger at his face.

"Listen, you little shit," Cid said in a low, hard, even voice, "I don't know what your problem is, and right now I can't say I give a flying fuck in a good wind. But that girl" he pointed, almost savagely, toward the room where he had left Tifa "has done nothing but treat you good and put up with your shit from the minute I joined up with you happy assholes, and I bet a long time before that too, and I /still/ haven't /once/ seen you so much as say thanks. Does she complain? Hell, no! She just keeps smiling and nodding while you're pulling crap that'd make a whole goddam heavenly host shit. But you know, Spike, I think it might be gettin' to her a little bit by now... and I think you owe that woman more than to bite her damn head off when she's trying to /help/ you."

And with that, before Cloud could even try to begin framing a response, Cid turned abruptly and stormed out of the room...

...and, as soon as he'd cleared the door, slumped weakly back against the wall of the hallway, tilting his head back to let it thump dully on the plaster.

/Man, what a sight. The pot knocking the kettle down and telling it to stop being so damn _black_ all the time. Shit, why don't I just go find a mirror and say all that again?/

/Shera--/

*

Cloud scanned the far wall one more time, carefully, feeling exhaustion tug at his mind but not ready to give in to it--yet. But once again, there was nothing; only a smooth, featureless sheet of silver-blue rock and ice. He sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, then finally turned back to the rest of the party to call a halt.

He felt more than a little guilty when he saw the others' condition. They were straggling wearily along behind him, a couple in clumps but most forming a ragged sort of line, like ducklings following their mother. Red XIII was limping slightly, favoring his right front paw; he'd slipped and cut it badly on the ice during the climb up the Gaea Cliffs. Barret was trudging along heavily, head down. Cid's breathing had an alarming rattle to it; he'd scoffed and brushed off the others' concern, blaming it on his cigarettes, but his progress had been slow and difficult all day. Even Cait Sith was unusually subdued, and Yuffie, thin as a rail and suffering the most from the cold, had taken on a disturbing bluish shade.

/I just can't do this to them,/ Cloud thought with a sharp stab of remorse, looking shamefacedly over the ill-looking group. /It's not _their_ obsession we're chasing--it's mine. This isn't fair; they need a break, all of them./

His eye caught then on Tifa, walking with her head held bravely up, pausing to donate a borrowed scarf to Yuffie, who looked mutely grateful. The guilt escalated sharply, and he found himself unable to look at her anymore. /And furthermore,/ he concluded with sudden, determined resolution, /there's some other things I need to take care of.../

He looked up at all of them, clearing his throat for attention. The other members of the party looked up quickly--and what he saw in their eyes hurt most of all.

They still trusted him. All of them. Forced march through these frigid caverns or no, they all still believed in him. Their leader.

/Some leader./

"It's a dead end," he announced shortly. "We're not in any shape to go wandering around looking for tunnels right now. We should stop here for tonight, try to warm up."

The others muttered uneasily, and Cid stepped forward with a frown. "Cloud, we're fine to go on if you want," he lied with forced lightness, backed up by the murmurs of the rest. "If you think we need to cover some more ground now, we'll be okay."

"No," Cloud said simply. "You won't. And even if you would, it wouldn't be fair--wouldn't be /right/--for me to ask you to keep going." He glowered, not very threateningly, around at the group. "Now take a break. I mean it. Tifa, can I talk to you a minute?"

Tifa looked a bit surprised--and, Cloud thought with a slight tightness in his chest, a bit apprehensive--but made her way briskly over to him, and followed when he waved her onward a bit, to a more secluded section of the cave. He'd managed to keep his voice casual while summoning her, but calm was rapidly becoming difficult to maintain, and Cloud was not surprised to find his heart somewhere in the vicinity of his throat as he turned to look at her.

/What am I supposed to say? How do I fix it when I've managed to be this much of an asshole?/

Tifa looked up with curious and slightly wary dark eyes, and suddenly he had an answer.

He reached out and took both her hands in his, searching her now-startled gaze. Her hands were uncovered, and very cold; he pressed them between his tightly, trying hard to warm them.

"I," Cloud said quietly and seriously, "am an idiot." Tifa's expression took a turn for the bemused; he continued quickly, still clutching her hands. "I'm also a thoughtless, selfish bastard, and I'm also /incredibly/ sorry." He kept his eyes trained on hers, reflecting back the feeling behind every word as he went on.

"What I said to you, the other day--I didn't mean that. I didn't mean /any/ of it--it wasn't fair to say it. I shouldn't have--but... well... I'm an idiot. ...But anyway--I finally got some sense knocked into me." He chuckled ruefully, distractedly, rubbing a swollen spot on his jaw. "The hard way--remind me to watch out for Cid, by the way, he's got a /nasty/ left hook--I think he likes you--but Tifa, that made me... it finally made me /think/ about what I was doing, and finally see how damn stupid it is, and I'm sorry. I--you don't deserve that... and I can't /stand/ knowing that I hurt you. I can't live with it. But--I just--"

He looked away from her, finally, his face going a little tight with restrained emotion; he spoke slowly, haltingly, painfully, as though every word were a supreme effort of will. And every word /was/; each was an uncovering of something he never thought he'd have to reveal, a stripping away of armor from a vulnerable place.

"I think sometimes that--if I don't let anyone get near me--don't care about anyone--then that can keep me safe," Cloud said in that taut, harsh voice, staring at the ground but still clasping her hands. "So I--I try to act the way I do, to keep people away from me... but more and more, lately, I've been realizing that--it doesn't work--if I already care about them; and it just ends up--hurting everybody."

He looked up then, suddenly, catching her eyes with his own. "And I do care about you," he said quietly, simply. "So much I don't feel safe anymore. But if shutting you out means--hurting you... then that's not worth it. And I won't do it. I /can't/ do it."

And with that, he hesitated once (/will she mind? should I?/), and then put his arms gingerly around her.

He needn't have worried. Tifa clutched him with near-crushing tightness almost before he'd had time to reach her, tucking her head against his shoulder; tears stood out again in her eyes, but this time for an entirely different reason.

"So do you forgive me?" Cloud murmured against the side of her head, closing his eyes. She smiled a bit unevenly through the tears she tried to blink away.

"Do you even have to ask? Of /course/ I do." A moment's pause. "What did you mean about Cid's left hook?"

Cloud laughed softly, a little weak with relief. "I'll tell you later, okay?" He stroked her hair lightly, unthinkingly.

"Mm."

They held each other for a long time, not thinking, not permitting themselves to think. But in both hearts, something small, quiet, deeply rooted and deeply buried was making its slow and methodical way to the surface, and was almost about to show its face. Nothing else remained to impede its progress; everything lay ahead which could brutally shatter its uncertain and fragile life. And there was nothing that could protect it.

From now on, there would be no turning back.

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