Clipped Wings Can Fly Too
By: Selim
Summary: Sora's a severaly detached child looking for his place, Leon and Cloud are new parents hoping to help.
Pairings: Leon x Cloud
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts nor am I making any money off this fiction.
Author Information:
This story is admitably harder to understand with prior knowledge of some psychology. This is a developmental story that starts with an abused child, Sora having an insecure attachment to his own parents and later being adopted. It's a few snapshots lacking detail as he gets over his problems with his new loving family and friends.
Why I wrote this? Because I could, for one. Because it's been a major question on psychologist minds on what causes serial killers for two. Er, I don't think Sora would ever kill a lot of people, but I got tired of adoption fics for Leon and Cloud that said Sora had a bad past but was fine now. I wanted to do some earlier psychological problems he'd be having.
If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I'll try to contact you back with the answer. I'm a psychology major, so this is actually more of a project I wanted to do to apply knowledge more than for entertainment purposes. Meh, figures.
Their bodies laid in a huddled mass, unmoving from the corner where the big man had rested them. Sora remained quiet, hidden in the closet as he watched his parent's things be grabbed by the large man. Wallets, jewelry, and valuables were shoved in a brown bag before the man rushed out of the house. Still, Sora didn't leave the closet. His blue eyes trained on his parents prone forms, the five year old could only stay in the closet staring out through a small crack. That man might come back, he told himself. He could wait for awhile.
It wasn't until an hour later, when his bladder began to tingle did the boy bother crawling out of his hidden space to rush towards the bathroom. Clicking the door shut, the brunette went about his business – including taking a shower as his small mind tried to understand what he was supposed to do. He could maybe go to the neighbor's house and ask for help, but Sora never felt he could trust the strange woman with blue hair. She was too kind. She gave him candy and called him nice things. That didn't feel right. The boy frowned. But he couldn't just leave his own parents laying there on the ground, the red ooze pouring from their lifeless bodies. It would stain the floor. Suppose him mother were to wake up and see the mess she had made – surely she'd punish her own son, just as always.
Mind made up, Sora left his parents small home to start up the street towards the nearest neighbor's house. He was getting lonely anyway…
"Daddy Crowd, I can't tie my laces," the little boy held his foot out from the stairs, wiggling his toes inside his loose sneakers. After the odd incident with his own parents (who, Sora was told, would never wake up), the boy had been quickly adopted by a same-sex couple that was eager to take care of any child no matter what. They hadn't been all that prepared for such a socially detached boy like Sora. Weekly psychiatrist appointments, daily sit downs, and games to enhance personality were always scheduled in already hectic schedules, but Cloud found himself unable to just give Sora back to the adoption agency. He wanted to fix this child, so the boy could learn that there were people eager to look out for him. That his parent's death was okay to cry about rather than brush off.
Bending down, Cloud tugged on the laces, forcing a small on his lips. He had to show Sora that he approved the boy asking for help. "So where are you going today?" He asked, tugging on the laces. It'd be a lesson for another day to teach the boy proper manners. Small stones were needed before big ones.
Sora blinked, even his small childish face held a sense of sudden arrogance to ask why an adult didn't know his own schedule. "Daddy Leon is taking me to the park."
"Are you going to play with the other kids?" Cloud smiled. It was Leon's small project, to get the boy to play with other kids. It was unnerving that the child was more grown up than either of them was. Already the boy wanted to do everything for himself.
Again, Sora was quiet. Bright blue eyes seemed to think over the question. "I'm going to throw sand at Riku." He explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world before he grabbed his back pack and took off towards the door. Alone, Cloud dropped his head to his chest as he heard Leon move from the kitchen with his car keys. The two men exchanged knowing glances before they turned for their days.
Because no matter how socially detached Sora was, he was still their baby boy – and baby boys needed loving, understanding parents.
Sand was cold. The small grains were irritating on the skin, making the plush ground uncomfortable to lay on but Riku was doing it and Sora felt he should too. The aqua eyed boy was talking amiably about something that Sora didn't much care about. Next to Riku was a red haired girl talking just as fast about something not even close to what the white haired boy was talking about, but neither cared. Too far into themselves, they continued ranting about toys and themselves. They weren't aware their new friend had drifted off in his own thoughts, taken far away from reality again.
Sometimes he could still see his parents.
When he was really little – a baby – he remembered shadows above his bed: mocking voices, criticizing everything about him. They were mad that he ruined their lives. All their money had to be given to him for diapers. Why he wasn't potty trained yet, they demanded to know. Sora was quick to do teach himself at two. It was clearly evil coming from his body and as long as neither parent could see what he'd done, they never called him evil. That done, they simply found other things to use against him. It never concerned them that their words, their actions, were stunting their son's own growth.
Going potty – bad. Talking – bad. Crying – bad. If hungry, Sora found food for himself. The silver cans on the floor in his father's work room often had bitter beverages that clenched growling bellies. It was a delicious substitute to anything else that he would be denied.
There was once, however, that Sora had been taken over to the odd blue haired ladies house where he'd been left for hours at a time. There he was given a white substance called milk, given sandwiches made of gooey purple and crunch brown stuck together, and read stories of knights saving beautiful princesses from mean stepmothers. It was then Sora had realized that he'd been abandoned with mean stepmothers. The people supposedly called "parents" were made to be killed by knights.
The man that killed them was his knight and like any princess, he'd find the man and marry him.
Sora flinched as he was lifted into the cool, loving arms of Leon. "Sora, would you like some ice cream?"
Sweet, milk stuff, Sora's mind chimed. Free food, not in silver cans. He didn't ask for some, knowing that he could just as easily been taken away, but Leon must have understood the look on the boy's face because the older brunette hugged Sora and said they'd get some ice cream. He didn't have to be that far away before he heard the little red haired girl say to (mostly) herself, "That boy's weird."
But Sora knew the truth. They were the weird ones.
When he turned six, Cloud and Leon had thrown a big party and invited all the kids from the park. At first, Sora wasn't sure if he could go, but his new parents had told them it was okay. The party was for him, for getting to be one year older. The idea of celebrating something like that was lost of the boy, but it came with free food and lots of toys, so he found himself uncaring why the two men were doing it.
Like most children, he was at a loss on how long he'd been living with his real parents (they had to be the real parents. Step parents were mean, real parents were nice – right?) but each day was a new start. He'd get kisses in the morning, a big breakfast; he'd play games all afternoon, crash on the couch for a nap until Leon came home, before eating again. Cloud had referred to the little boy as a "butterball" often, but the brunette didn't care what they called him. He was finally happy.
"Tie my shoes. Riku wants to play on my swing."
"Lift me up on the swing!"
"Higher, daddy Leon!"
Sora felt himself crying out with laughter on more than occasion that day. In his great time, he failed to notice his psychologist enter the house and take a seat, watching his actions. He didn't care, Riku was challenging him to a swinging match and the boy was getting lessons fast from Leon about kicking his feet out to go higher without a pushing hand. The first few times his daddies had helped him on the swings, their big hands touching his back, Sora had screamed and ran. Play equipment outside had been abandoned for the longest time until Sora had learned that it was a helpful hand that Leon was doing, not a attacking hand. His parents would never hurt him.
Riku was already moving off the ground, throwing his larger frame into pushing the swing up. Sora stared back at the older boy with eagerness to join in. He wanted to be just like Riku, so carefree. He wanted to be a bird and soar in the wind. His stubby legs kicked out and Leon gave the young boy a push forward before stepping back. Alone, Sora kicked frantically at first until he was at a pace. Slower then Riku's quick movements (but the seven-year-old had a whole extra year of swinging experience), Sora soon found himself flying into the air with a cry of relief. No longer was he strapped down to the ground. He was a free bird able to do anything he wanted to do under the watchful eyes of caring parents and new friends.
And through their son's joyous laughter, Leon and Cloud found the time to stand near the boy's doctor to see what she had thought about the boy's rapid change in personality over their care. She had wanted to see it first hand, of course. "He's doing marvelous," Aeris smiled, "I still want sessions until he's securely attached to you boys, but I don't see anything wrong with him now. He's slowly growing to be a healthy little boy."
Their own gazes fixed on the swings, on the children running around their backyard, Leon nodded. "I think he's doing better."
"His clipped wings are spread," Cloud added.
"And one day he'll really fly," Aeris nodded before leaving the party for another appointment.
