Lay Back in the Sun

        I used to have a dream. When I think back to it now, though, I can't decide if it truly was an unconscious image, or if it was a daydream of mine I just used to get through it all. Hell, I may have even just hallucinated it happening next to me, who's to say? The thing is ... I remember it so clearly. It was so simple, too. I suppose it was one of those symbolic little images; it's simplicity was only hiding how true and deep it ran.

        It was just ... sunlight. Pure sunlight. Early morning light that streamed through the windows in our house. I was in the room, standing in the doorway, sitting on the floor ... I could hear talk beneath me, my family speaking in low tones, the sizzle of cooking food, the sounds of nature and children outside our open door. Re al poetic stuff like that. Of course, none of that was important to me (even though I could smell the food quite clearly, and let me tell you ... you spend as much time as I did with that bastard Hojo and try to reason out your incredible lust for greasy bacon on a late Sunday morning,) none of it mattered, because, well, we had a guest.

        God, I still nearly bawl just thinking about this. Just to be home and be safe, god, what a dream. But I wasn't alone, I couldn't be. If I was alone there, even if my parents were still there, even if they were making such delicious food for me, even if another certain someone were to drop by unexpectedly ... if I had returned alone, there's no way in hell I'd ever be happy.

        And so there he lay, sprawled out on the guest bed in a horrible mess of pillow, blanket, and hair. The sunlight had found it's way in the window, covering half the bed, and in the middle, in perhaps the most precarious position I could imagine, Cloud snored his spiky little head off.

        Well, all right, I'll level with you. I'm not sure if Cloud snores. It's been so rare that I've seen him sleep soundly, I'd be the last person you should ask. Even before all this, back with Shinra, I can't say I ever saw him sleep. He was too jumpy, too paranoid. Always thinking something was going to happen. God, especially when I was around. You'd think the kid had never been smiled at before ... I almost think he was afraid he'd wake up and find himself alone.

        But I digress. A little. He was sound asleep on the bed in my perfect world, stomach up, arms tangled within the bedding, completely curled in the sunlight, soaking it all in. He was unbruised, untouched, uninjured. Just seeing that, even in such a bittersweet fantasy, made me happy. Dreaming wasn't something you want to do in such a situation ... to snap back to the harsh reality is enough to break you, if you hadn't been already. But really, such moments of planned happiness were the only real thing that could get me through.

        And now, as I think, which is the reason behind this little monologue, there isn't any possible way I could ever be happy at any future moment of my life. My happiness isn't controlled by me any longer, it really isn't. I need /him/ to be happy. Just ... anything. Telling him a story to get him to calm down, something that makes him smile despite the pain ... that does more for me than anything else in the world.

        I'd like to see anyone explain how someone could make a decision for themselves, something that would offer them instant happiness, if it meant destroying someone else, leaving them behind. It's not even something I can begin to comprehend! The sheer thought of it is nearly sickening. To imagine his face if I left ... my god, do you have any idea what that would be like?

        I've lived for so long with my happiness secondary in my life. I could care less how I feel, I really could! And I don't mean to sound as if I'm preaching, I'm not so self-less and great (well, not as much as I'm making myself sound, anyway,) it's just that ... to see the pain he went through, the horrible suffering, to see how his life was so destroyed by everything ... I couldn't let him give in, I had to try to save him, I had to make him realize it was worth it to survive. I'll admit I was stronger, I could manage better than he could, but Cloud ... he just ... there was no way he could have made it by himself.

        Which isn't to say /I/ single handedly saved him ... but ... well, hey, maybe I did! He sure as hell saved me. If I had been alone, there would have been no reason for me to try and get out, you know? The only reason I tried was because I was so bent on making my dream real. I needed to get /him/ out, so /he/ could be happy. I needed to make my life complete again, and I needed to make /his/ too.

        Sometimes I sound like such a sap, I really do. But it's all the truth. Now that I think about this harder ... maybe I am being selfish. If I had to live without seeing him smile ever again, I don't think I could manage. But my heart's in the right place, isn't it? I think so. If his happiness means mine, then I think that's enough for the both of us. We'll both be fine ... free, safe, and ... well, happy. Oh, dammit. I need to go get a thesaurus as soon as we settle down in the city, or something.

        A good shave, a warm bed, hot food, and a thesaurus. Well, after I make sure Cloud makes it through all this, I suppose. Can't suddenly go back on all this, can I? It's not as if my dream is any less passionate now, though, when I'm so close to achieving it. I can still see it so clearly ... Such a simple image burned into my mind ... The idea of being so safe and so comfortable and so happy, with him right there, basking in the morning light, his gold hair camouflaged in the warmth ...

        To think that such an experience would make me such a damned romantic idealist. All this talk about happiness and sunshine and family ... Oh who am I kidding, I love it. Once this little spiky headed burden becomes a little spiky headed /walking/ burden ... I doubt there'll be much else that could happen to me that would make me feel any better.

        Besides ... it's only a few more miles to Midgar ... if I hurry, I can have us there by sundown.

        Sundown ... yeah ... maybe I'll wake him up for that. I'm sure it'd make him happy.