Took me so long, I started on this MONTHS ago, but I couldn't really finish it. I'm dumping all the angst about the mind control drama in this fic. And again, the usual discouragements. The characters will be just derping around, to be honest.
One shot. The title comes from Kim Jaejoong's song One Kiss ~(;D)~ *flails* Set after the party's escape from the stupid Tower of snot- sorry, Zot, and after Kain hands over the magma key. This contains yaoi, angst, depressing stuff, mentions of mind control, explicit nightmares, etc etc, it's very dark and deep too, so if any of the above bothers you, get out NOW!
Heaven's Halo Reflects On You
The stars were scattered like diamonds on the black carpet of a night blanketing Baron. The night air was cold, but not the uncomfortable kind of cold - it was the kind that sent meaningful and pleasant thoughts to one's brain. It was a night air that was like the generous oxygen passing through a constricted pair of lungs, quenching discomfort and rigidity, like skilled fingers untangling a twisted, tortuous mess.
But definitely not for a certain man.
The night air of his hometown was supposed to be a respite - a breather after all the uncountable days and nights he spent in convoluted towers and dungeons where the mere emptiness and darkness could crush him. It was supposed to be a lullaby to his ears and mind where agonized screams and wails and a medley of debacle and destruction reverberated with no mercy, enough to pull down even the strongest warrior into the dark pit of insanity.
His river-like blonde hair was drenched in the cold sweat hailing from the darkest, most tormenting bowels of his nightmares, the locks clinging to his clammy face, twisted in an expression that was heart-wrenching to look at. The unconscious dragoon tossed and turned and writhed underneath the covers, as if he was waging a war against his very own bed. A merciful pang bringing him to consciousness pulled him out of his hell of a "slumber".
Kain thought his chest would burst, his heartbeat was enough to make him deaf. The spasms couldn't stop, at least, not yet. He tried to calm himself down, but unfortunately the aftereffect of the nightmare claimed its victory against the dragoon's steel-like will. Kain swallowed in a sharp, harsh breath, his body still shaking uncontrollably. He was distracted for a short while when his ears registered hasty footsteps approaching his quarters. Soon enough something...bright opened the door. The visitor struggled to catch his breath too, but compared to what the dragoon went through just mere moments ago it seemed like he was meditating instead.
"Kain," the voice was too familiar for the dragoon not to recognize, "are you all right?"
The dragoon was stoic at first, his tormented grey-blue eyes long darted off to a nothingness. He did hear his best friend call him, but chose to stand up and open the windows first. Hell, he needed to regain himself.
Fresh, cold night air whistled in, permeating the stuffy bedroom, but to Kain it was even better than a X-Potion bath. Some clearness settled in his disarrayed, anguished mind. The dragoon took in a slow breath, his nerves relaxing steadily.
Cecil did not exactly expect a reply from his best friend. Kain definitely did not look fine. His face was ghostly pale and clammy, his hair was drenched in sweat and his knuckles were white and the dragoon was shaking hysterically. This was not definitely not a definition of fine.
After a silence that took forever, the paladin found the courage to speak, to let some words come out of his lips, never mind if they made sense or not. "I heard some...screaming coming from here."
Kain winced, knowing that it came from himself, but he forced out a sigh. Some more appreciated clarity made their way through his mind, as he started to feel himself sharply coming back to reality. Whether it was a good or horrible feeling, it didn't matter.
"I'm sorry, I did not mean to wake you," he replied, avoiding his best friend's gaze. Taking a few measured strides, the dragoon came closer hastily, as if he wanted to push the paladin back out the door. "It's late, we need to get some rest if we want to make it to the Underworld tomorrow," his voice was heavy and dark, he spoke briskly, as if he was hiding something. And hiding something he was.
It was more than obvious, Kain needed his best friend out of the room. He needed space; Cecil could sense the air of insecurity and uneasiness.
Kain felt more aware and less oblivious about everything since the sage Tellah broke Golbez' control over him, but it didn't mean that the darkness stopped harassing him. It didn't mean that he went through nothing. It didn't mean that what happened could be just forgotten and dismissed as if it were nothing but a silly dream. And unfair it was. Everything he went through and did under Golbez' spell was a nightmare, a living hell, genuine and vivid yet so transparent and unreal - but now when the control was finally broken, the dragoon had to deal with everything and wrestle with the residual, lingering evil as if -
It was like waking up from a nightmare that made everything a mess, and when you wake up, you find that the reality has been unbelievably messed up as well, and there's no way to fix everything, to make anything better. It was like you were dead, and the new life you were given turns out to be someone's else's, someone that already existed, and you're forced to live out the life that wasn't even yours.
Everything that happened before Golbez' spell miserably fell upon him was even more fleeting than a memory - almost nonexistent, so far away, a time the dragoon could not return to, not even in his dreams. To Kain it felt like lifetimes ago. Fighting alongside Cecil and the dragoons, chatting with Rosa, riding Chocobos with Cecil...the paradise he had on Earth was lost, burnt to painful ashes by the flames of his latent human darkness, and now that he would kill to get that paradise back, the darkness that incinerated his happiness leers from afar. A leer so unpleasant, inhumane, enough to make the dragoon cringe.
And now that he's finally free...
In fact, things were harder. He did regain control over himself, but that made him even more vulnerable to the darkness than ever, he had to resist and wrestle with it tooth and nail, 24/7. Kain did cherish the fact that he was no longer under Golbez' spell but that meant that he was no longer "protected" against the Void. The Void may not have called him yet before Golbez manipulated him, but now it was like the Void wanted him back, and would do anything to pull him down the dark hole of evil once again.
The safest part of a hurricane was, after all, in the middle of it - the eye.
These were one of the rare cases were the dragoon felt it was safer to be inside and not out. Well, as long as his spear wasn't taking away innocent lives. As long as he didn't endanger the ones whom he held dear. But never mind - the dragoon didn't have to remind himself that there was absolutely no way, let alone easy way to stitch back the tears and rips he brought upon the curtain of his past, the shining, irreplaceable curtain of his normal life, his paradise.
His friends were there. Cid, Cecil, Rosa - they would be more than happy to help him. Forgiveness had been obtained easily but to the dragoon, that wasn't the problem. What mattered most now was his peace of mind and his sanity - without them everyone's forgiveness would be for naught. His friends forgave him, but if he succumbed to the darkness and let the Void conquer him again...
These thoughts surged all throughout him - heart, mind, soul, body, like a venom that had no counterpart antidote.
Kain inwardly offered himself a dark, dry chuckle. "And when I had some hopes that things would be slightly better once I break free of Golbez' control...Kain, you fool," he thought to himself.
Golbez' control. To the poison it spread throughout his whole being, being freed was like a merciful antidote. As if he consumed gallons of the liquid, all pain forgotten then - until he realized that it was a euthanasiac type of antidote - only there to give him a painless, merciful death.. it was just a fake, empty "promise" after all...for someone as dignified as Kain, of course he preferred to die trying, fighting hard and square.
"I'll stay here with you," Cecil snapped him out of his poisonous reverie, letting out a gentle sigh to catch his best friend's attention. Not waiting for Kain's approval, he settled on a wooden chair adjacent to the dragoon's dilapidated excuse for a bed.
Kain wanted to push him out of his room, never mind his concern and worry, but the offer was too tempting. The words "Go to bed, Cecil, I don't need help, you need to rest" couldn't just leave his tongue, though they were on the tip.
To the dragoon, Cecil's mini cavalcade into his quarters shed light to his poisonous darkness. With or without the shining armor, Cecil's mere presence was indeed illuminating. Kain, at the moment, was too disarrayed to further inspect the changes in his best friend that occurred during his traitorous absence, but at least he could notice the new light. Cecil seemed different. Unlike him, who was drowning and at the mercy of the Void, there was not as much as a trace of darkness left, nothing that could divulge the fact that a former dark knight stood before him. It was shocking - unbelievably shocking.
A river of moonlight streamed in the window - Cecil's face and the pittance of the exposed skin he had glittered. The dragoon's darkness was put to shame, succumbing to the light for now, it had no choice but to awrily cower away with a growl promising revenge when it returned. But to Kain at the moment, all his troubles seemed to melt away, for a while. For a while. He concentrated on the light and warmth his best friend was radiating, in hopes of completely searing out the darkness that plagued him until it was nothing, nothing but a distant memory.
"Are you sure? Cecil, you need sleep," Kain finally insisted - he had regained his composure, now finding enough peace to be able to cross his arms against his chest. "Don't worry about me."
The paladin sighed and shifted to cross his legs before he told him, "I can't sleep...something's telling me that I shouldn't be sleeping."
That I should be here with you, Cecil wistfully added to himself. Kain nestled under the covers, whether Cecil could guess Kain was still reluctant to sleep himself the dragoon didn't worry.
"..All right, then, I guess..." the dragoon certainly did not approve of his best friend's intentions, though the kindness was more than welcome. The words were uttered just in time before he drifted off to a slumber.
The seige of Fabul, his lance piercing Cecil's shoulder, the traitorous offer he made in Troia...he relived these horrors in his dreams again and again, too many times, that it was sickening.
Sights of carnage filled his eyes, made them burn so, so painfully.
Bleeding corpses were everywhere, painting the ground a horrifying shade of red, the vivid river-like image etched forever to his memory, no matter how light-headed he was or no matter how the world seemed to be obscured with mist.
Flames were shamelessly engaged in a passionate dance, conquering every single inch of territory and leaving nothing but ashes and debris as remembrance of its twisted, zealous performance.
The screams, those desperate cries for help and salvation, those wails a mirror of the blood river soaking the soles of his boots, reverberated all throughout his head, would neither wax nor wane. He was just standing there, lance dripping with blood, reminding him of his fresh crimes against humanity - most of all, to himself.
His face was contorted, his soul drowning in that nostalgic agony that was too familiar, a curse and crime against the dragoon's chiseled features. Beads of sweat soon began rolling down his now-pale face, and his movements were growing more frantic.
The paladin took quick notice of this, while trying to remain calm. His heart was already twisting as his eyes took in the unbearable sight of the suffering beauty before him. Almost as if by instinct, Cecil decided to place a shaking hand on his best friend's forehead, not knowing whether it would help or make things worse. But what could he do, the spells he learned as a paladin couldn't really exorcise the darkness that tormented Kain. ...Or could he? Would he really need magic?
He didn't think so. A paladin must be a pure soul, pure enough to exorcise darkness and demons with the light of his heart, he remembered the words that he heard during one of those arduous days of his training.
For now he just wiped the sweat off his best friend's ghost-pale face, praying to whatever deity that existed for Kain to overcome the darkness. Cecil was unbelievably frantic, so frantic that he didn't realize the incantations slipping from his tongue.
It was all too heart-wrenching. He knew that he was majority of the reason for Kain's jealousy and the growing, overlooked human darkness that painfully teared him away from his best friend. It was all too heart-wrenching, when the guilt was crushing him as giant hammers would. It was all too heart-wrenching, when he realized that he could do nothing. He could do nothing, not even lift the lightest load off Kain's suffering.
Cecil's pitch-black armor was an unbearably sharp contrast to the Crystal Chamber's clear, glass tiles and walls. The Dark Knight stood there, his feet frozen and unable to take even the slightest step yet his whole body was shaking. Kain noted that his best friend looked disbelieving, but the dark knight's petrified body surged out much more than that - a twisted, painful mix of unpleasant emotions and realizations. Cecil struggled to deal with the barrage of nonsense, to absorb everything thrown at him.
"Kain...you can't be..."
The dragoon felt his soul burn, seethe with an immeasurable hatred. A hatred that no darkness or light could ever dream of taming. Four other people were there, but his head felt too light, his mind too obscured for him to actually notice.
Reality seemed to attack him like a strong tidal wave as the tip of his spear penetrated the dark armor, his best friend's blood pooling beneath their armored feet. Kain couldn't see how the pain disfigured his beautiful friend's divine face because of the visor helmet. But what did he care? Killing Cecil, piercing his lance through that heart, laughing at the dark knight's pool of blood, weren't they the only things that mattered? To satisfy this hatred that sets his soul on fire? To prove himself as someone worthy..someone who wouldn't live as the dark knight's mere shadow?
The darkness poisoning his soul, the hatred obscuring his mind, the strings that controlled his body, which was no better than a puppet, were all broken and seared until they were only a distant memory. A girl's voice cried out - Rosa. The melody of her sweet yet brave voice shattered the force for awhile, giving his head some space and clarity.
The dragoon's gloved hands started to tremble and shake, and his spear slipped from the iron grip that imprisoned it mere seconds ago. The clang of the metal against the glass tiles was deafening and made his eardrums shatter, but his eyes seemed to burn with acid when he registered the bloody mess before him.
"Cecil..I...no..no...NO!"
The bed shook violently with the force of Kain's abrupt wake, and the creaks were heard throughout the entire room. Cecil could barely dodge the headbutt that promised him a headache with Kain's sudden jerk.
Kain's breathing was ragged and came in rapid gasps, as if air was a substance foreign to his lungs. Nevertheless he sucked in urgent, violent ones. His eyes were wide with fear and restlessness, frozen in terror, the torment so thick and tangible Cecil could feel it. The paladin was grateful that his best friend couldn't see the expression his face bore. Cecil's brow furrowed and his heart dropped to his feet, completely at a loss of what he could do or say. He was too deep in thought to notice that his best friend was already storming out of the room.
"...Kain," the paladin wistfully whispered to himself. The fates, unfortunately, contrived with the darkness. A darkness that was once too foul to be within imagination, was beginning to show its ghastly face.
ckckckckckckckckckckck
Kain slammed an un-gauntleted fist against the hard surface, he himself overlooking the whole Baron town from his current position in the balcony. But his eyes did little to take in the view.
He was indeed foolish.
How could he, after all that has happened? How could he shamelessly entreat for the paladin's light, as if it were a feast laid out for him to devour like an animal?
He cursed Golbez, the crystals, the Void...any foul name he could think of - he damned them all, with such a devoted passion. Damn Golbez and whatever his evil plans were for. Damn the crystals, for their existence, which were supposed to bring the earth prosperity, was abused and twisted and caused nothing but relentless agony and pain to countless people. Damn the Void, damn that darkness, despair ever dared to exist, ever dared to show their unwanted faces to humanity.
It took all of his willpower to stop a traitorous tear's fall down his cheek. His fist clenched and tightened in an attempt to aid him.
He was simply too tired. Tired of all this.
Tired of being an extra burden to his friends. Tired that his new existence such a crime to his buddy. Tired that he has lost himself. Tired of realizing that he was the victim most devastated by his inexcusable betrayal.
Tired of having to wrestle with his old self.
Tired of wrestling with the darkness.
His heart was shattering, the poisonous feelings too unbearable now that his body was beginning to burn, as if he was injured. It ached more when regret engulfed him. The dragoon was ecstatic that he had rejoined Cecil and could fight alongside him once again, like the good old days. But when he reminded himself that he had to return a burden, that he had returned, completely changed for the worse, that he -
Why did he have to suffer so much?
The dragoon bit his bottom lip harshly to prevent another tear to trickle down and betray him. He longed to see the smiling dragoon, his old, original self, the Kain that was supposed to be the one standing this very moment. The Kain Highwind that fought alongside his friend, who was living a very passionate life.
Not this sorry, pitiful excuse for an impostor.
He longed to feel even just a mere touch of its existence, a slight pleasant tingle of its warmth and being, for now it felt too distant - so nonexistent.
How he would kill just to feel himself again. His real self.
The dragoon started to hear gentle footsteps headed towards his direction. He was too unwilling, too tired, to turn back and show his face, but he knew already, anyway, whose arms wrapped around his slightly-quaking frame.
Kain decided that the chin that rested on his shoulder was slightly ticklish, but he didn't complain. Nor did he protest when the paladin's hand took his own, to bring him back to his bedroom.
"Cecil," the dragoon started talking when they were there, his voice almost dangerous, "go to bed. You need to-"
With that, the whole world seemed to have been engulfed in a blinding white. As the paladin's soft lips hit his shaking own, for a short time he felt all his thoughts burn away. Not caring whether this was wrong or right, whether the Void would seize him or not, whether this was Golbez messing with his brain again or not, he kissed back. Cecil's tender hand took Kain's own, their fingers gracefully entwined in a grasp that promised unity to the next thousand lives. Long, river-like golden locks were caressed by a sudden gust coming from the free, open window. The wind tickled the dragoon's ear, the midnight chill making the hairs on the back of his neck freeze up. But all that mattered to him was reveling in those lovely lips that so tenderly moved against his own.
Cecil felt the very same.
The two knights didn't even bother to stop for air. Kain was pushed on his bed, their lips still linked with an inextinguishable zeal, refusing to leave each other. Every single movement grew more passionate and the heat steadily rose until it was unbearable. Most of the younger man's weight still on him, Kain gently lifted his hand to the paladin's chest to indicate his discomfort, but knotted the other in the lily-white hair in fear that Cecil would misunderstand. To his immense gratification, the younger man didn't. Cecil urgently shifted, his elbows and knees propping him in a position comfortable for the both of them.
The paladin's hand trailed down Kain's neck, then eventually to his chest, the rough fabric of the dragoon's tunic uncomfortable against his palm. His lips parted with Kain's, redder than usual, and swollen with moisture. He ignored the protesting whimper that escaped Kain's lips, but the paladin looked deep in the grey-blue eyes to let his intention be known in some way. As gently as his diminishing patience would allow him, Cecil peeled off the offending fabric that veiled the perfect skin.
He let his warm hand explore the smooth plain, savoring the silky feel of it, which he had been too deprived of for unbearable, lonely weeks.
Kain focused on the copacetic feeling spreading through him. Cecil's hand, snug and soft, wasn't afraid of the darkness that his manipulated, messed-up soul harbored. To the paladin, it did not matter - it did not exist. Layer by layer, the dragoon knew the disgusting darkness that coated him like a second skin was being shredded off, letting him feel, for a long time in ages, how warmth and life really was. Cecil was fire itself, every second of its presence melting the ice that cocooned him, each lick and glow chaperoning him to the palace of light, the light he was in so dire need of.
Author's notes: ...There! All angst and depressing stuff relating to the mind control dumped here. The story of FFIV, and the situation Kain's in, always makes him much more sensible to be the uke. And believe it or not, it's sickening. He's just not fit to be uke.
It's really so sad that there are very few Kaicil fics out there. Can you believe it? THE SHIPPERS THEMSELVES WRITE THE FICS! ARE WE THAT PITIFUL?!