Oh, yeah, I get a fail for not getting around to this until today -- nearly-week-late birthday drabble for our boything. (And by ours, I mean he belongs to Carie, Kym, Sheno and myself. XD) I asked him what he wanted a month ago, he gave me some prompts, and I went with one of them -- I wish you'd let me in. And I knew from the beginning that it was going to be Cleon, even though I've never made an attempt at it before. So, yeah. I hope you enjoy it, boything. Love you bunches.
I own nothing. Not even the idea behind this. Sadness.
He sits in the Bailey, overlooking the whole of Hollow Bastion. He sits, and he thinks. Wonders -- if he could have done more, pushed harder, would it have made even the smallest difference. If it would have kept the shadows from getting so dark that they threatened to suffocate him. If it would have kept his friends safe.
They rely on him, depend on him, to keep things level. To keep things .. from falling apart to such a degree that there's naught but dust left of the remains, nothing left to rebuild. They rely on him, and he has no one to fall back on but himself.
Cloud watches him from a distance, far enough away that Leon isn't aware of his presence -- and if he is aware, he doesn't let on. They're both so used to being on their own, so used to being the ones that take care of everyone else that their own solitude has never been an issue. They like to think that it doesn't matter, that the delicate balance of light and darkness is the only thing that really keeps them going, the only thing that really matters.
Cloud was the first to realize there was something missing.
It began with an elevated level of interest, with concern for where the brunet disappeared to when he wasn't with the rest of the group. Aerith, Yuffie, everyone else brushed it off -- Cid didn't rightly care either way, but that was his prerogative. No, Cloud had been the one to slip quietly behind him, follow him to that secluded little spot, just to watch him think.
He would sit there for hours at a time, his gunblade resting at his side, just .. staring. Staring at the wasted expanse of what was left of a once beautiful town, sunlight glinting off of broken glass and sinking into the deepening shadows of coming twilight. Every once in a while, he would give a small, almost weary sigh -- as though the weight of the world really did rest on his shoulders, and he was close to letting it slip. He never spoke, though Cloud had never thought he would be the type to talk to himself in the first place, if only to break the almost deafening silence. The only sound was that of his deep, almost meditative breathing, the subtle creak of leather when he shifted his position. Elbow braced against one knee, chin resting in the palm of his hand, he kept his gaze trained on the horizon, as if waiting for the next beginning to the end of the world. An excuse to separate himself from them even further.
Cloud only slips away when Leon makes a move to do the same, reaching the center of town well before the brunet, as though he'd never left. There is an ache in the middle of his chest that he can't explain, a prickle at the back of his neck that sets the tiny hairs on end. It was an eerie sort of calm despite how badly he wanted to help him, to make him open up when he himself had failed to do the same.
It was always the two of them, standing on the outside, looking in. Taking in the sounds of soft laughter, the gentle embraces shared by old friends. It was always the two of them -- the lone wolf and the lion, standing guard as silently as if there were no one there at all.
I wish you'd let me in.