[Cloud will never have that kind of end. No release from his pain and suffering. Sephiroth would never allow it. He tell himself its because of his anger, his hate towards him. That he wants to take away everything and make him suffer. But he also knows he's rooted himself around Cloud like some sort of dark cocoon.

Cloud's become the center of it all and he doesn't even know it. He's important, the one thing within all that darkness that Sephiroth still holds onto. He tells himself it's because of hate, but he also would never want to lose the one thing he has left.

And that's why ...]

You do not seem to have a better solution.

[He forces himself up despite the aches and pains, despite the tightness in his chest that causes him to finally cough up more of the flowers. At least they fall to the already broken and dirty floor instead of the bed ... that's not in great shape to begin with, there's just no reason to make it worse.

He hangs there a moment, slightly bent over to stare at the rotten, bloody petals as though if he looks long enough all the answers might come to him. None do, so he just looks back towards Cloud.]

It might not fix this fate for me, but it might heal you, Cloud. Find a source close to it. If you can find a way to heal yourself, you'll be able to heal the others. Isn't that what you want?