*sidles in, shyly drops fic, dashes off a la Captain Jack Sparrow*
This fic expounds upon the Sephiroth drabble from chapter 5 of Journeys, and will probably be continued at some point. It's based on a prompt from the old Strifehart kink meme on LJ.
Disclaimer: dood, fanfiction. Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, and the characters and universes therein are the property of Disney and Square Enix. I receive no remuneration for this work; it is a parody and as such utilizes the Fair Use clause of the Copyright Act.
"Eight through-and-through stab wounds. Eight, Cloud." The gruff male voice paused long enough for its owner to breathe a weary sigh, then the world blurred and heaved and spun and he could no longer tell up from down. "I really don't know why you keep putting yourself in this situation…"
Cloud only vaguely realized who was speaking, whose hard frame he was cradled against, and whose clothing he was spilling blood all over before a stronger wave of nauseating darkness flooded through him, and he was lost to blessed unconsciousness once more.
The next time Cloud came to, he was lying flat on his back on hard-packed earth, his entire body stiff and aching. He felt his head propped up by something warm and leathery, smelling faintly of copper and sweat and the oily musk of gun cleaning solvent.
Leon's jacket. The thought was strangely comforting.
His eyes felt dry and gritty, as did his throat. He worked his tongue in his mouth and swallowed hard, blinking a couple of times to clear his vision before squinting up at the sky. Sharp blue cliffs surrounded him, mostly obscuring a dusky orange sunset. So he had landed back in Hollow Bastion.
He started to sit up, tightening his stomach muscles only to have them scream in violent protest. He hissed in a sharp breath and compressed both arms over the white-hot sunbursts of pain in his abdomen, letting his battered body drop back to the ground.
"You're awake."
Cloud bit back a groan and carefully turned his head towards the source of the voice. He saw Leon himself sitting a few feet away, shirtless with his leather-clad legs drawn towards his chest and his arms draped over his knees. Thick smears of dried blood stained his hands and forearms. So much blood…no wonder Cloud felt weak.
"Do you know what happens when you leave like that?" Leon demanded suddenly, a severe frown setting a wrinkle through the scar slashed across his face. "Do you even realize how much they worry about you? You have people who care about you so deeply, and you…you…"
He let out a grunt of frustration and fell silent, turning to glare at something in the distance. He didn't move or speak for several minutes. An all-too-familiar guilt settled heavily into Cloud's chest, and it kept him silent as well. He knew exactly what Leon was getting at, and it wasn't something he was looking forward to facing. He was far better at avoidance than confrontation.
Eventually Leon schooled his expression, seeming to have gained control over his rare outburst of emotion. He pushed forward onto his knees and leaned over Cloud to check on the wounds he'd apparently bandaged, blood-soaked strips of Cloud's utterly destroyed blue sweater and Leon's own white shirt roped tightly around Cloud's torso and legs in several different places, secured with both of their belts.
Belts, Cloud mused offhand, finding it hard to focus on anything in particular for very long. That explained the difficulty he was having in drawing in more than a shallow breath.
Well, that and the gaping holes Masamune had left in him.
"You're lucky I found you when I did," Leon said quietly at last. His eyes settled heavily on Cloud's, dark blue and unreadable. "We should be back in town in two days. Stay alive. For them."