Lean On Me (FF7)

32

~Cloud's POV~

The knowledge that Yuffie might not make it was like a blow to my gut, knocking the air out of me. Forget might not, she most likely won't. It's a shock that won't let me cry, it numbs me, and I can't breathe. I can't move. I can only think one thing. I think I love her. You think? It took me this long, it took her practical death for me to realize it. You never know what you feel for someone unless you know they won't make it. And now it's too late. She'll never know.

"Cloud, you should go get some rest," Barret lays a hand on my shoulder. Apparently there were no hard feelings for my attacking him a day ago. Ever since, I've sat here, by her bed. Her pale skin reflects the lights on the ceiling and I nearly wince because I can see her rubs through the hospital gown and thick blanket over top of her. She's already on life support, which forces her heart to keep beating and her lungs to keep filling.

"I can't," I shake my head. There are two reasons I refuse to sleep.

One: The second I lay down, thoughts will involuntarily fill my mind. I do most of my thinking in bed. I will think about Denzel, probably left for dead somewhere dark and damp, waiting for me to rescue him when only Vincent is making an effort to track the kids down.

Two: I'll miss Yuffie's small head snuggled into my chest, where I can smell the homey smell of pine in her hair. She would put her thin arms around my waist as if she was hugging me and then kiss my collar and whisper goodnight.

"You have to. I promise I'll get you if she wakes up."

"She won't," I almost say. But instead I say: "I want to be the first person she sees."

"Cloud, you're shutting down on us again, buddy," he pats my shoulder. "At least eat something."

"This hospital food doesn't appeal to me," I mutter, which is half true. All food doesn't appeal to me.

"Then go to sleep," he pushes my head lightly onto the edge of Yuffie's bed, but I pull back.

"I'm gonna get Vincent to do something," he grumbles before leaving the room.

I take Yuffie's still hand into mine and fiddle with her fingers while I wait for Vince to convince me to eat so that it'll just come up again. I can't keep anything down, I can't sleep, I can't cry, I can't dream, I can't stay, I can't leave. I can't. Is this what depression feels like? A cold, numbing yet painful emotion that can't even be described with words. I can't think about me, only her. Yuffie, Yuffie, Yuffie. Maybe this is love. Maybe love hurts. Maybe love is depression. But maybe love is laughs too. Maybe it's joy. Or maybe it's all those things wrapped into one blanket and shoved into your heart once you fall for someone. And maybe I don't understand love.

"Hey Cloud," Vincent comes into the room, just as Barret promised.

"Hey."

"I brought you something," he holds up a paper bag.

"I'm not hungry."

"That's what you think,"he raises his eyebrows. "I can hear your stomach growling from here."

I roll my eyes and look back at Yuffie. She doesn't move, only lays there, on the line between life and death. She's not in a coma, they said. Just asleep. What, do they think I'm a kid? Marlene wouldn't even fall for that.

"Here," he hands me an empty bowl.

"Wow. Air. My favorite."

"Shut up and eat your soup," Vincent says good naturedly.

"Meanie," I say, not even bothering to make it humorous.

"Meanie and Gay Guy," Vincent hums, pouring a hot, brownish liquid into my bowl. "We make a great team, don't you think?"