[[for Xiaa, obviously. :x]]
"Squall." Cloud liked the way the name rolled off his tongue. He liked the tiny thrill that ran up his spine just saying the name. He liked it enough that he repeated it. Once, twice more.
He hated that name, too. He hated the man that made his heart race and his palms sweat. He hated reliving the feeling that he hadn't experienced in years. He hated those cold eyes and the straight lips. He absolutely despised the man for winning his heart. And he hated that the stupid son of a bitch did the same damn fool thing his last lover did.
Well, maybe not an exact repeat, but it was all the same. The reason Squall didn't didn't draw back if Cloud touched his face or a kiss to his hand- it had nothing to do with love. It had everything to do with the fact that Cloud had gotten him killed. Close enough to killed, at least.
Cloud knew full well that he should have been the one in that bed. He was aware that maybe he even belonged in a box underground, or reduced to the ranks that had done this to his friend. Yet, here he was, alive and well, save for a few cuts and bruises. And there Squall was, shallow breaths and silence as he had been for so long now. How long was it? The blond couldn't even recall. A week? Two weeks? Months? Years? Everything moved at snail's pace, weighted down by a guilt he had nearly moved beyond before this all happened.
He could have killed that silver-haired monster. He was certain that, after this, he could tear the general apart with his own hands and save himself, save everyone else, from any more of this pain. He could have destroyed the other with a look, with a growl, with every ounce of strength left in him. He might have drowned him with tears or tear him apart with the hidden rage, or simply destroyed him in revenge for everything that ever happened to him, everything he admitted was his own fault.
Cloud should have been the one to endure this. He should be the one lost, maybe forever, bandaged head-to-toe. He told him. He made him swear not to come. It would be dangerous. More than just dangerous, and to say Sephiroth lacked any form of conscience was an understatement. It was the General's fulfillment of a promise, of a mission he'd laid out clear as day.
"Tell me what you cherish most. Give me the pleasure of taking it away."
He'd tried so hard to hide it, but there it was- the one thing he cherished most, the only thing he cherished at all- laid out on the bed before him without so much as a twitch to say there was anything left but a shell.
"You idiot." he spat at the unmoving man, wishing he had the strength to turn his back. This wasn't his fault. He did everything he could to keep Squall away. He didn't push the man in front of him- he had jumped, in that god-awful heroic fashion. Squall was the one who had taken the blow, who had underestimated Sephiroth's strength. He was the goddamn idiot who sacrificed himself, for something so worthless and trivial. For Cloud. For someone who could barely hold into life when he saw what his living did.
He could still feel the heat of Sephiroth's blade on his skin. The stitched and healing slice on his back in that last attempt to protect Squall from what became inevitable. He could still smell the blood, taste it on his lips, see nothing but tears in his eyes. He remembered moving to protect the other, and his memory faltered for a moment. Had it been Squall who jumped in? Why could he remember stepping in fromt of the brunette?
"You fucking idiot." Cloud whispered again, tracing a cold hand down the side of his cheek, over a chest clothed only in bandages. He remembered another sting. Steel piercing muscle and wrenching bone and destroying what was in him. And now he was starting to feel weak. Just what had happened? What did he let the monster do to himself? To Squall?
Wasn't this what the older man had always feared? Wasn't this the warning he had given- not to become close. Not to open up, because in the end, there was no one but yourself? Maybe they both should have heeded warnings.
Cloud's head was aching now, a familiar feel. The world was fading white, and he felt as if his body itself were going with it. A glance at Squall, and he was suddenly aware that this would be his last look at the other. There was a twitch, a definite movement, and an eye so slowly fluttering open. And then, for Cloud Strife, there was nothing but a final memory before he faded completely.
"Cloud." he choked out the name, wishing his fingers, his entire body weren't trembling so badly. He wished he could find Sephiroth, could lay that finishing blow he so deserved, that he escaped and vanished from just a moment before it touched. He wished Cloud's eyes weren't becoming so dim, and there wasn't so much blood.
"Squall..." his voice was cracked, and there was a painful gurgle in his throat. There wasn't much left to Cloud, and it was starting to show. It showed in half-closed eyes and something so close to a smile that Squall almost had to close his own.
"You idiot." Squall hissed, trying to smear some of the blood off Cloud's face. He had come to this place to protect Cloud. He knew that stupid boy was going off to fight alone, and he was going to get himself killed. So he came first, before Cloud got the chance. And still, here he was, dying in his arms, the human embodiment of his failure.
"You were the one..." Cloud coughed too hard to finish the statement, but there was still that goddamn smile. That stupid fucking smile that Squall at once wanted to slap and kiss away. If he had to die, this was how he wanted it. After everything, after the facade of hatred and the annoyed glances and the awkward mornings after, there he was, trying to save him. His hero, his defender, his knight.
"Shut up." were there tears in his voice? It was pretty obvious, "You stupid, stupid idiot. I came here so you wouldn't die!"
"Best laid plans." Cloud murmured, turning his head only to choke out more blood. He was going cold, colder than he'd ever been, and he couldn't feel a thing but for the arms around him. At least it didn't hurt. At least the gods were kind enough to let him die in peace.
"Then this is it? You're just going to fucking leave me? After last night? After every night!?"
"Hey..." he found a fleeting burst of strength, enough to reach up and touch a bloody cheek, "Shut up for a second...give me my last words...."
"You think I'd ever-"
"I love you, alright?" another gargled cough, and his body was trembling, the breaths coming irregular and short. Squall did shut up, he stared with a sudden horror. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He was leaving too, and there was nothing to be done.
"I hate you. Idiot." Maybe it would have been more convincing if he wasn't clinging to the other as if it could save him from death. Maybe Cloud would have believed it if there weren't tears on his face as well as in his shaking voice. Maybe he should have thought more clearly, as he felt the movment leave Cloud's body and it came to him that these would be the last words the blond ever heard.
"Stop it!" he hissed, "Don't play like that! Open your eyes, asshole!" he commanded, giving the limp body a little shake. "Cloud....Cloud!" he knew better. He could say the name a million times, but there was no more happy spark when he spoke it. There was no more love, so carefully masked, in eyes that were now empty. There was nothing, no matter how many times Squall screamed for it to be a lie, and in the end, he really was alone.
"Leeeeoooon!" He winced at that squeal, that annoying high-pitched voice. One eye carefully lifted open, and he suddenly the nightmare didn't seem so horrible. Except, not a nightmare, just a reality he kept trying to forget.
"Yuffie." he growled at the young ninja, pulling himself to sit up. How many nights had the events repeated themselves? How many nights had he watched himself laying in that bed, with the ghost of his dead love leaning over him with kisses and memories? He couldn't take it any more. And the punishing hell of living with Yuffie didn't make things better.
"There's a kid here, Leon!" the excitement in her voice was tangible, but it was too early in his morning for Leon to make the connection. Not until it was laid out for him. "Aerith says he's the keyblade master!" His stomach tightened and he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
"Then I suppose I should give him a proper welcome." Not for a second did he question the turn of events that would follow. There wasn't a moment he imagined what would happen next. Yet, as it would happen, he wasn't living out the end days. He wasn't waiting for something to come along that could kill him. It wasn't the beginning of the end.
Only the end of the beginning.
