Disclaimer: Vulnerably not mine.
A/N: Written for Challenge #291 'Safekeeping' at KH Drabble over on LiveJournal.
Vulnerability
© Scribbler, August 2012.
Cid would never be able to explain how vulnerable watching these kids grow up made him feel. Him, rough, tough Captain of the Air Force. Him, war veteran, foul-mouth and all around ball-busting sourpuss supreme. Him, sewer of torn smocks, builder of tree-houses and keeper of magic band-aids that made cut knees feel instantly better.
"Ciiiiiid, Yuffie fell off the garden wall and she didn't want me to tell you but you gotta come right now 'cause she's bleeding and she bumped her head and she's making an awful noise and the neighbours are gonna complain and I wanted to heal her but you said not to use my powers in case they go screwy and –"
"Hold on, Aerith. Breathe before you pass out."
Fuckin' hell. I've gone domestic.
Watching Radiant Garden die had left them all numb. When that wore off it came as a complete shock to learn he had developed a grudging affection for the handful of children he had managed to save. He hated new recruits. Had always said so. Snot-nosed bunch of punks who expected their commanding officer to wipe their asses and blow their noses for them.
"Yuffie hurt herself. Can you come help? Please?"
Except that this bunch never asked for him to do anything for them. They asked for each other, but never for themselves. At first they fought help and acted as if someone caring about them was an elaborate ruse to make them drop their guard so it would hurt more when this new life was ripped away too. Leon hated himself for surviving when others hadn't and barely spoke. Aerith acted too adult and tried to do too much too soon. Tifa was angry at the universe and punched the crap out of anything inanimate that wasn't a load-bearing wall. Cloud wandered Traverse Town at night like a sleepwalker, except the dark rings around his eyes said he never slept. And Yuffie… well, Yuffie was special.
"Hold on, I'll get the medikit."
"Hurry, Cid, please. I think she might have a concussion or something."
"Has she quit talkin'?"
"No."
"Is she cussin' even though I told her not to?"
"Yes."
"She's fine."
It had come as even more of a shock to learn that something as simple and pure as that grudging affection, coupled with an impulsive desire to protect them from life, made him such an easy target for anguish. Cid Highwind didn't do anguish. Didn't even know the fucking word. Yet if surviving Radiant Garden had made him realise how fleeting life was, caring for these kids had honed that knowledge to a lethal point.
"Yuffie! How many times I gotta tell ya not to play on the damn wall?"
"I wasn't playing! I was practising being a ninja!"
"You an' that damn ninja stuff. C'mere."
He would fight for them. He would kill for them. And, yeah, he would die for them. But mention it to his face and he would rip your fucking throat out rather than admit it.
"This is gonna sting, a'ight? You cuss an' you're grounded for a week."
"No fair! You cuss all the time!"
"I'm the bad example you gotta avoid. Now hold still."
"Mrrfffffffff!"
Cid Highwind, Captain of the Air Force. Cid Highwind, war veteran, foul-mouth and all around ball-busting sourpuss supreme. Cid Highwind, unintended parent.
"There now. C'mon, squirt. I got some ice-cream in the freezer. You too, Aerith. An' I can see you behind that tree, Leon. You ain't foolin' no-one. Go find the others while I dish up."
"Fuck yeah!"
"Yuffie!"
"Sorry."
Fin.
.