To the Morrow for the Past.

Chapter 1 – Save Him –

The pain came first. Agony ripping into his head and clawing at his core, forcing a cry from his lips and his knees to buckle. Over the screeching roar, he could vaguely hear the shocked and concerned noise of his friend. His breath caught in his throat as his entire being forced out outside stimulus, deming it unimportant.

The fear came next. Fear. Panic. Horror. He knew this pain, it was all too familiar. The feeling of his head splitting apart as his body was taken over, nothing more than a puppet. He couldn't focus, his vision dark, his mind knowing nothing but the all consuming pain.

Jenova.

But she was gone. Destroyed. Remaining only in the bloodstream of those effected by Geostigma. How could she cause this? How-

His thoughts were thin. Failing to get traction and slipping through his mind like the reminants of a dream. The pain was distracting. Almost all consuming. But the fear... The fear was instinct. The fear was weakness.

The pain. The pain-

The pain was gone. As sudden as it had begun, it stopped - leaving him unbalanced and feeling slightly lost. Taking a deep breath, Cloud steadied himself before opening his eyes, letting his hands drop from their shaking grip on his head.

He wasn't where he had expected to be. When the pain had hit him, he'd been in the bar helping Tifa set up for the evening. His trips back to 7th Haven were becoming more and more frequent since Sephiroth's most recent defeat. He had nothing left to hide from, no reason not to go back. He was sure that he'd been in Tifa's bar.

But when his eyes opened, he found himself in another familiar place. Aerith's garden. The familiar blossoms crunched benieth his feet as they sunk lightly into the mossy ground. He had always liked Aerith's flowers, their pale pettals standing in stark contrast to the vibrant green grass. Even now, years later, he could still see her in his mind, tending to the flowers of the church and humming lightly to herself. Even on his darkest days, that memory could always bring a bitter sweet comfort to him.

Somehow things were different now. Subtle at first, but then it became glaringly obvious to him. In his few previous visits, it had been more dreamlike. The hazy white sky had been bright, but empty, the flowers below him had been beautiful but scentless. Now, he could smell them, the floral scent making his nose itch. The sky was still white, but had small pinpricks of green – almost like stars, and seemed to have more substance. Almost like the garden was surrounded by fluffy clouds rather than nothing at all. As he looked around, the green pinpricks became more noticable and solid. They were moving, growing. They looked like the tendrils of the lifestream.

And he was alone.

Never had he been here alone. Aerith had greeted him. Given him the strength to continue when he had been about to give up. Zack had been there, reminding him of his reasons to fight. Even when he'd been sent back, Aerith and the children had been the hands that steadied him.

But now he was alone. Standing in a field of flowers, surrounded by nothing.

He took another breath, holding it in for a moment before letting it out slowly. The flowers smelled the same as they had in the church and the air was crisp, floating on a light breeze.

"Hello?" He spoke quietly, knowing that in this place, the words didn't need to be loud to be heard. That somebody had brought him here and that they would hear him.

"Save him." The reply came from everywhere and nowhere. It seemed to resonate around him, thousands of voices speaking in tandem. "Save him." It repeated, emotions difficult to decern.

He was about to ask for clarification when the headache came back, drilling into him with a renewed force of presence. It seemed to push him to his knees with its intensity and he curled in on himself, a natural – if futile – reaction to protect himself from further attack.

When the pain lifted, he was once again not where he expected to be. Instead of the homely wooden floor of the bar, or the soft earth and flora, his eyes opened to see... cold concrete?- Another steadying breath. And another. Then he lifted his head, wanting to find out where he was, only to wake up in his own worst nightmare.

– – – –

The lab was cool, bordering on cold. The lights dim and the walls concrete. There was nothing homely about this place, nothing kind or gentle. He was huddled behind what appeared to be crates of supplies, out of sight of the two people he could vaguely hear. He could feel a wall behind him, and to his left was a table with various pieces of equipment and paperwork littered upon its surface. Over the crates, he could see similar tables scattered around the mostly open area and almost every wall was covered by some sort of bookshelf or cabinet. It was all too familiar. For four years he'd spent hours vacantly staring at a similar lab.

No. Not a similar lab. His eyes caught sight of two Mako capsuals across the room. Standing slightly, he could make out the doors a little ahead and to the left of him. This was the Nibelheim mansion. The labs beneath his home town.

Panic grew within him and he knelt back down. Reaching a hand forward he braced himself on the crates and took three steadying breaths, slowing each one down until he was breathing deeply again. His heart pounded in his chest and he reminded himself that Hojo was gone. These labs were abandoned. He was safe. He repeated this mantra to himself in an effort to forstall a full on anxiety attack. Something that had worked for him often in the past, and worked for him again now.

And then he heard the voices again. Two of them seemingly in the next room. The library? He strained his ears to hear past the blood gushing in his ears to make out what they were saying.

"He's two weeks old! He needs to be held!" A female voice, loud and angry, shaking. "Isolating him from human contact will only cause him psychological problems later in life. Infants need to be held - to bond with a caregiver!"

"His psyche is of no importance." Came the reply. A familiar voice in a familiar bored tone. Cloud frowned, inching forward as he listened, trying to place the voice. "We're only interested in his physical development at this stage. His mental abilities will have to be measured when he's a little more... interactive."

Another wave of panic. He knew that voice. But it was impossible. He was dead! Cloud felt his heart beating erratically in his chest, pounding his blood into his ears. His vision began to black and he realized he was hyperventilating. Surely they could hear him, gasping for breath at an increasing rate. It took a colossal effort to calm himself down this time, a lot more than five deep breaths. It took a while and by the time he felt the weight lift from his chest, he was shaking and dizzy but he could deal with that.

"Professor..." Cloud almost missed the female's response while distracted. Again, he told himself to calm down – Listen - Gather information. To figure out just what the flying fuck in Gaia's name was going on. He needed as much information as he could get to keep himself safe so he forced himself to pay attention to the voices in the next room.

"No. You are not to touch him any more than absolutely necessary. Feed him. Clean him. Change him. No more. Your interactions will taint any results. Do you understand me?" As always, Hojo's voice was like posion. Oily, repugnant, bitter... Every word coating his body and making him shiver.

"I understand." Her reply was barely more than a heartbroken whisper, tugging at his own heart. This woman obviously cared deeply for the child.

"Good. Leave. You're finished for the day. Calm yourself down and come back tomorrow as a scientist. Or not at all."

There was nothing else said and Cloud ducked to avoid being seen as the female scientist walked passed him and out the door. After a brief pause, Cloud inched himself out of his hiding spot. As quietly as he could, he stepped towards the library, hand reaching up and back. He was comforted to find First Tsurugi strapped to his back. His hand gripped the hilt as his steps moved onward, making barely any sound on the concrete floor.

As he rounded the corner into the library proper, he caught his first look at the scientist from his nightmares. Hojo stood with his back to him, bent over a desk seemingly engrossed in whatever he was doing. He didn't notice Cloud's arrival until the blade had been plunged through his back and into the table in front of him.

There was barely a gasp from the head scientist as he slumped forward, blood pooling beneath him. Cloud extracted his blade and stared down at him. If only things had been that easy the first time.

Though he was rather sure that the dead man in front of him was Professor Hojo, Cloud had to be sure. He reached out and turned the body over, watching numbly as it collapsed on the ground. The bespectacled face that stared blankly up at him could be mistaken for no other. How he had survived, Cloud had no idea, but it was a question for another time.

He stood there for a while, staring down at the man that had inflicted so much pain and marvelled at how small he'd actually been. The man that had forced such torment on Cloud was a tiny twig of a man, more pudgy than muscly and perpetually hunched over. Why had nobody killed him back in the days of Shinra? It would have been so simple...

Cloud was yanked from his thoughts by a peircing wail. A scream that could only come from a small infant filled the library unexpectedly, causing Cloud to jump. Shaking his head, he wiped First Tsurugi on the professor's side and replaced it on his back before going in search of the sound.

In a small room, nestled in between two large bookshelves, Cloud found him. Laying in what looked to be an incubator of some sort was a small infant, arms flailing as his cries filled the room. This must be the child that the scientist had been talking about. The Experiment. Stepping closer, Cloud reached out to touch the child. The moment his hand connected the cries slowed to a whimper and bright green eyes opened to stare at him.

Cloud recoiled, his hand flinching back as if it had been burned. Those eyes were familiar. Too familiar. With a shaking hand, Cloud pulled back the tiny hat the boy was wearing and found silver hair, confirming his suspicions. This child was Sephiroth.

But that didn't make sense. How had he got here? Was this another clone? But then, Hojo had been alive. Had the planet thrown him back in time? Was that even possible. What was going on!?

"Save him." The ghost of a whisper flickered in his thoughts. The planet wanted him to save Sephiorth? But how? Why?

A whimper and then a soft cry caught Cloud's attention. Those green, cat like eyes were still staring at him, and they were beginning to fill with new tears. Maybe it was from sympathy, maybe it was simply an instinctual reaction, but Cloud found himself suddenly holding the infant to his chest. He was a warm, solid weight. Real. Briefly he remembered how heartbroken the female scientist had been and found himself holding the boy tighter, earning a soft coo from the infant. Even the great Sephiroth deserved to be held as a child.

'What the hell is going on?' Cloud questioned to himself, looking down at the pale blue hat under his chin and the infant underneith. Was this really Sephiroth? This fragile creature in need of nothing more than a personal connection. Had Sephiroth ever really been this vunerable?

A rush of pain hit him again, sending him to his knees, his body wrapped protectively around the child. The sudden, intense, familiar, pain gripped him again and the world shifted.

"Save him."