A/N: … yeah, enjoy I guess.. ^.^
I Don't own a single thing in here except plt bits that I add…. The first part is during the part in disc one when they're imprisoned in the HQ. All the rest will have explainations after their respective pagebreaks…this fic is gift to someone super super importantly special that has something important happening today, so I thought the theme was appropriate. there will be more chapters later. Slight AU, and I mean SLIGHT… loosely inspired by a quote in advent children, and by the song included in this A/N… not the actually story, the A/N, so suck it. Oh yeah, I even don't own the shit in the toilets… that's all property of square-enix/soft
Going through edits. This is likely going to turn into yaoi since the reason it wasn't before is void. My boyfriend doesn't like to read... XD
You can't fill your cup until you empty all it has
You can't understand what lays ahead
If you don't understand the past
You'll never learn to fly now
'Til you're standing at the cliff
And you can't truly love until you've given up on it
That's why we won't back down
We won't run and hide
Yeah, 'cause these are the things that we can't deny
I'm passing over you like a satellite
So catch me if I fall
That's why we stick to your game plans and party lives
But at night we're conspiring by candlelight
We are the orphans of the American dream
So shine your light on me
-Rise Against, Satelite.
end author note
I've thought of a wonderful gift for you, shall I give you despair?
He dreamt that night. That same familiar, yet unrecognizable voice he'd been hearing so many months flooded over him. It whispered comfort, teased him light heartedly, told him it'd come back for him and claim him. It talked of strange, confusing, and unexpected things- some initimate and personal and deep for the blonde; the voice seemed to know everything about him somehow. It spoke to him for a handful of hours, as always, then after a while told him with a dark chuckle to wake up. He instantly woke with a start, confused as to how a voice in his dream could command him awake, but shook it off as nothing- that is, not until he saw something that caught his attention; the cell door was wide open. Elation and caution fought for dominance as the two conflicting emotions coiled around each other deep in his gut. He heard the voice again.
"Its safe. Escape now, it's a present for you, my cherished favorite." It's imperious tone washed over him in waves of comforting mania.
He explored outside to make certain it was actually safe to leave before he turned to wake the others. Cloud thought little of the connection between the voice and the carnage that splattered the walls in red, and soaked the halls in gore: it was almost as though something was literally preventing him from making a connection, or telling anyone else about the strange voice: or maybe it was just the overall surrealness of the empty, corpse littered hallways. It looked like a monsters playground. The only living Shin-ra employee they found was screaming about some kind of monster, however, their indignant wails really didn't affect him.
Not one bit of fear or concern sparked within him, that is, except that one pang when he found the sword that stuck in the deceased president's flabby corpse. He would recognize that horrifying blade anywhere, it frequently haunted his nightmares- as did its owner, and the memories associated with both were anything but happy. His only clear thought then was to stubbornly refuse to believe what his mind, gut, and heart all instantly knew. He asked around until he had a clear answer. He even threatened that random employee in the room- Palmer, if he remembered, his thoughts were too scattered by fear and confusion for him to possess much sense at the time. When the robust, physically trembling, man confirmed exactly what he'd feared all along- that somehow Sephiroth was indeed back somehow by some means unknown to all but the demon himself, he felt the need to flee before he came back for the blade stuck in that office desk. Or wait. But why would he do that? He felt the need to see the once honored war hero- to be near him. But he had to run. Otherwise, Cloud knew he would have to face the nightmare from his past.
As it was he didn't need to encourage the others to escape with him. The sight of Rufus Shinra flying in on a helicopter had their attention in full. Still, he couldn't help but stare in terror at the impaled cadaver, as though the shiny edge of that feared weapon were a whirlpool that pulled his attention into its very depths. Just like its owner Cloud thought to himself, shuddering as they exited the room, him at the rear of the group. He felt like he'd just discovered ghosts of his deepest fear haunting him, with every intention of inflicting themselves on him even more. Naturally, he was soon preoccupied by the variety of monsters that they encountered along the way, and the sudden urge ghosting along his mind (kill Rufus. Kill him and come to me that voice, that insidious siren voice kept whispering, commanding to him) and upon reaching the top of the building he had begun to shove the image of masamune and its wielder from his mind, if only at the thought of getting his friends away from Rufus so that he could question the man's shady motives. And to beat the living shit out of the new president, for personal reasons. Mostly a strange desire to please this dark and disturbing voice. Even as he pummeled the other blonde he could feel it goad him on (yes, yes destroy him. Destroy this worthless garbage- he is in our way.) Praise him (such a good boy aren't you?) Tell him that he belonged to it (yes, you're mine. All mine, and soon I will have you for myself once more.) Before he knew it, the blonde president was fleeing via helicopter with Dark Nation held loosely in his arms.
Cloud turned to catch up with the others, but unexpectedly came face to face with someone he'd forgotten he'd been expecting to see lingering around. The twenty-one year old blanched, and quickly attempted to escape in any way he could, only to notice the absolute lack of an exit- well- other than the forty-kilometer drop straight to the hard ground behind him.
"Is that anyway to greet an old friend?" Came the deeply intoned question from somewhere above his head. He grimaced towards the metal roof he was staring at beneath his boot clad feet. He paused to glare at the second pair of black leather boots (these notably shinier than his own scuffed up ones) in his direct line of vision. then looked up to stare the other man right in his pale green eyes. Only to regret it when he felt his own blue eyes begin to tremble slightly.
"Only ones who burn down my home and have every inclination to harm me." He said, voice level. His hands were shaking, as was the rest of his body. Strong hands clamped onto his shoulders, and pulled him away from the dangerous precipice he'd been standing so precariously close to. One hand slid gently up his neck to hold his chin in place, forcing him to keep staring up at the face he tried so hard to despise. The man in front of him chuckled. It was deep, dark, heavy, cold, and entirely void of any measure of humanity- but still a chuckle.
"That isn't what I came for though, now is it Cloud?" The taller man's pale face inched forward ever so slightly, as if to examine the blonde's odd expression more deeply. As he did so, a single strand of his silver hair splayed itself across the shorter man's chest, imposing in and of itself. "Who was it that broke you out of that cell, hmmm? Does that truly sound like someone who wishes you harm?" Sephiroth asked him in a hushed, mocking tone that seemed almost casual. He also visibly smirked when trembling blue eyes closed in hesitation. He immediately snatched the shorter man's hand, and slipped something around his wrist before the blonde could protest. When the younger man's eyes snapped open in in confusion, he smiled darkly at him. "A gift." He said. "To remind you that there is no escaping your past." As he said it, there was a loud popping sound, accompanied by the sudden rustling of feathers. A single, yet large black wing extended from his shoulder, and he jumped off the edge of the building, proceeding to soar off into the distance, thus leaving an extremely confused and disoriented Cloud by himself on the cold roof.
Blonde spikes fell forward as the young man leaned forward to examine his wrist. On it was a simple ribbon of the purest ebony. It was such a dark pitch that no light seemed to penetrate the concentration of the color, anywhere; not a reflection of light to be seen. He reached to attempt to remove it, but the string wouldn't budge. He tried untangling it, yanking it over his hand, cutting it, biting through it, and tugging every inch of ribbon he could find. The bow stayed perfectly even and unchanged no matter how much he tried to remove it, and he eventually lost heart. Giving up, he resigned himself to catch up with the rest of the party, while trying to discern the cryptic message the ex-general had parted with. It only left Cloud even more confused. He punched a wall and stared for a minute at the blood that trickled down his knuckles before he stared at the ribbon once more, frowning at it as though everything was the ribbon's fault. He walked down to the elevator silently, a quiet paranoia causing his own echoed footsteps to sound unnerving as they bounced back at him. The cold grey and white and steel interior of the building, and the dim lighting hardly brought much comfort themselves, and Cloud was relieved when he finally got down to the third floor, and found a motorcycle, of all things- a motorcycle! He certainly knew how he was going to get out of the oddly horrifying building.
--(Page Break)-
Gold Saucer. It was a strange name for an amusement park, whether the park actually looked exactly like the name or not. Then again, amusement parks all had odd names, likely a part of the actual amusement, as the games and rides were truthfully more entertaining than amusing. Unlike meeting a strangely cryptic robotic cat, while running around in the square, and subsequently getting forced into letting said cat expel some very questionable, shitty fortune telling on him. Said cat also decided to follow him around. Everywhere. The cat- er, Cait Sith, followed him and Aerith around constantly through the various areas, bouncing around on his personal mog and talking excitedly about that arcade game, or this plaza. At one point, he gave a long, rambled explanation about the ins and out of Chocobo racing. After some time, one annoying encounter, and a massive headache, Cloud decided they were better off splitting up, and trying to locate any hint of Sephiroth's whereabouts, by themselves.
In his very thorough search through the entire park, a certain blonde nearly bumped headfirst into a large, robust man in what appeared to be a three-sizes-too-small boxing uniform. Or just really, unnaturally tight underwear. For a second, he thought it was Mukki and almost fainted in shock. he breathed a sigh of relief upon noticing that it was, not, in fact, the creepy man from the group bathing room. As it was the strange man before him questioned Cloud about whether or not he was friends with someone else at the park that, according to Dio, seemed around his same age. Honestly, Cloud wasn't paying much attention. Or at least, wasn't paying attention until he heard something about a black cape. And a number tattoo. Something about unusual silver hair. But Dio as he called himself, seemed to act as though the person in question had already left. He did mention something the man (presumably Sephiroth) had asked about- some materia Cloud had never heard of before, and an even more shocking question. Dio asked him his name, and upon answering Cloud was yanked right into a bear hug that he was certain jarred or broke at least three of his bones. The robust man then explained, to the very shocked and displeased blonde, that the man they were talking about mentioned that he was searching around the park for his friend, and told Cloud that he'd mentioned his name.
"Said he was needin' to talk to ya." Dio exclaimed excitedly. That was what sold him on his assumption of who the man was. There was only one silver haired man he knew of that would bother to even learn his name, let alone remember it. He paused from his thought when Dio continued talking. "But I think 'e left, so I guess ya'll hafta meet up with him somewhere else… oh, righ' he said this was for you." The man offered the blonde a slip of paper, and he calmly reached forward and grabbed it, before unfolding the note and reading it.
Meet me in the unused janitor closet in the hotel.
-S
So instead, Cloud found himself in the arcade trying to earn some GP, and avoid confronting the other until he got the entire group rounded up to accompany him. He sat at the only empty machine in the room, after finding a certain crimson colored lion-creature attempting the motorcycle game he'd wanted to play. The blonde was left with a large pink machine that read, in a very bold, unnecessarily pronounced script, MOG HOUSE. The game wasn't exactly fun, but if he got anything out of playing, he'd be fine with the oozing fog of demasculinization he could feel just looking at the damn thing. Anything to get enough points for that mystery item in the GP store. He'd just hoped, oh fucking planet, he prayed nobody he knew saw him in the back corner, at the absolute most embarrassing machine in the park. He was just about to begin gaining a slight interest in the storyline of the gaming machine's little romantic and cutesy seeming plot, not that he'd ever admit feeling so interested to anyone, when, suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. A very familiar, cold, and strong one at that.
"So it seems I can assume that feeding kupo-nuts to a virtual mog takes precedence over searching for me?" The man behind Cloud whispered, hissed, cooed into the blonde man's ear. He flinched. Only one person sounded so confident, so condescending, and so possessive when they talked to him.
"What do you want with me?" Cloud questioned the other man roughly through gritted teeth, as he released hold of the joystick he'd been using to play.
"Come." was the only reply he got from the man he'd respected more than anyone else as a child. No, still respected, but the admiration… Cloud wasn't sure about. He felt the waterfall of silver shift and pull away from him, and heard the creaking of moving leather. Out of curiosity, and the cautious need to keep the others out of this (which he noticed he felt all along, and realized meant he would have decided not to tell them anyway if he'd decided to wait until tonight), he turned and followed the other instantly, watching that hair cascade across the man's cape. It was a good thing that the other's pale hair stood out so much, and that the insane man was… inhumanly tall, or else Cloud was certain he would have lost track of him. He noticed suspiciously that Sephiroth never turned to check that he was still tagging along.
Cocky bastard. Maybe I should just sneak off and see if he notices. He seems too sure that I will just keep following along, but then again, it's not like I've bothered to stop yet. Cloud shook his head, a few light-blonde spikes swayed and danced as he moved his head, as though blown by some sudden breeze. He then looked up to see that there was no one else in the room, (that he did not remember entering), except for himself and Sephiroth- who was standing across the room, and staring at him. Cloud crossed his arms. This must be the janitor's closet he thought, as he looked around at the cheesy interior that resembled something from a bad, low-budget horror movie.
"So, what do you want?" He asked again, trying not to let his voice quake. He couldn't seem to hold his ground whenever he tried to stare into the bright gleaming emerald of the other man's eyes. Too many bad memories revolved around that cat-like stare, and the presence of something else he'd tried so fucking hard to force out of himself. Well, there's the admiration, Cloud thought darkly, momentarily distracted. In a flash,the leather-clad man was behind him, sword drawn. It took a while for Cloud to finally notice that his earlobe was sore. Throbbing actually. He reached up to feel it, and found a hole, not a large one, but it was noticeably there. Not to mention bleeding. His eyes widened. What in Odin's name was that? He turned to find pale lips twitching up into the ghost of a smirk at his reaction. The silver haired man re-sheathed his blade swiftly, his deft hand slipping it back with practiced ease. Cloud soon backed away as a leather gloved hand reached for the hole left in his ear, but instead of escaping he merely gasped as he backed up into a wall. The silver-haired man pinned him with a warning glare, then proceeded to shove something tiny through the fresh hole in earlobe, and clasp it a bit too roughly in the back.
"Just have another gift for you, Cloud." the man said, as he stepped back to admire his handy work. He chuckled slightly at the shocked look on the younger man's face.
"You just pierced my ear on masamune, how in Cosmos' name is that a gift?" Came Cloud's incredulous response. He received silence, then a chuckle in return.
"Because the earring has enchantments on it, one that should prove quite useful for you. Come now, I do nothing without a purpose." A leather clad hand reached into a small pouch. "I have one other gift for you today. Give me your left hand, Cloud."
"All your supposed 'gifts' are a double edged sword." Cloud stated simply, hiding the hand in question behind his back. "Why would a ribbon that only protects me from magic be useful, if it causes all the spells that would've harmed me, to instead hit my friends? I have others to take care of, and this makes it difficult to protect them!"
"It's only intended to aid you. The fates of rest of your little group hardly makes a difference to me, I have no use for them, as I do for you. Now give me your hand, or I will do something very unpleasant to those two girls you seem to care so much for." The darkness and insanity of the other man was more than enough incentive as a fear tactic, but that strange twinge in his gut, and the feeling like a tendril of some of the former admiration he held for the man before him (albeit tainted darker by something he couldn't place) that entangled his senses left him without a choice. His hand seemed to lift of it's own accord, and when it did, he saw a flash of green as something was shoved into his palm. He could feel the familiar pulsing of materia, a fully mastered Lightning materia, and the unmistakable sensation that was it entering the strand of black ribbon on his wrist. Looking at the two of them together clicked with something that Dio had told him earlier.
"What are you trying to say?" The blonde choked out.
"Whatever do you mean, Cloud? I feel like my statement was perfectly clear." came the other's response through smirking lips.
"Black Materia." Was all he could think of to say.
"Yes, what about it, Cloud?"
"What does it have to do with me?" He saw his reflection in the glow of the taller man's eyes. The earring looked really old… ancient in fact. Another piece of the puzzle?
"Depends on how you spend the next week or two. If everything keeps going the way it has been, you will know soon enough." There was a possessive edge to the man's voice that Cloud was unsure of. Half of him wanted to seethe and yell and deny the other's tone, but half of him felt the tightening of that darkened admiration and respect. Half of him wanted nothing more than to know exactly what the other meant, so that he could hear that voice again, feel the way it seemed to slide overaroundthrough him. He could feel some part of him longing for the other man's praise, acknowledgement, anything. As the man turned away to walk through the door, Cloud fell to his knees, and clutched his head to clear the conflicting emotions trapped in a painful cycle that tormented his skull. "And, I thought you should know… it appears your friends have managed to land themselves in jail. Something about a man with a gun for an arm killing everyone in the entrance to the arena." And with that he left. Cloud watched him walk away with half lidded eyes, and heavy thoughts he wasn't used to thinking. And that's how Dio found him. Still in the closet, lying on his side and curled in the fetal position, as he racked through his brain for anything that could help him make sense of the particularly vile thoughts racing around his mind in dizzying circles, and the absolute want, the need, the yearning, he felt to… NO! He would not think of that. No. n-no… no he couldn't let himself think like that… but it felt right, oh so right and disturbingly real… and he… oh god's he wanted nothing more than to find where the silver-haired man had gone. He needed to be wherever that happened to be… absolutely needed. He couldn't think of anything else, not even when Dio's large, muscled arms gently shook him, and concerned brown eyes gazed searchingly into his azure ones, that were instead quite turquoise at the moment. No, not a single thought crossed his mind as the large man brought him to a white walled room, and set him in an equally stark white bed, with crisp, freshly washed sheets, and nurses with warm, worried eyes, and shaking latex gloved hands hovering over him. Not a single thought except that need, that utterly consumptive belonging, he felt in that room. Yes… Belong… belong…. belong…
"Yes, that's right Cloud… You belong to me…" and as that voice whispered those words into his frazzled mind, and they began to echo around his skull, Cloud fell right into a deep, coma-like sleep, and thought back,
Only to you, master….
To "Ignis espiritus"