This will be a very dark story, to begin with. It will involve torture, loss, depression, suicidal thoughts and attempts, self-harm, and other themes. You have been warned.

And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones

'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

Setting fire to our insides for fun

Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong

The lovers that went wrong

- Daughter, "Youth"

~-o-0-o-~

" Why'd you go along with him?"

Cloud glances at the boy with heavy eyes, burdened with the weight of years of living in the dark. The answer to his question is long and difficult. It's not something the boy needs to know.

"… I was looking for someone. Hades promised to help."

Ten Years Prior

The hand hovers in front of him, a promise, a threat, an impossible choice. His freedom, for the life of his friend. His soul, for the soul of the girl who gave her life for the planet – a planet that is now gone.

Everything is gone. Gaia, Edge, his friends and family, the people he's lost, and the ghosts that guided him. All gone. Taken the night those dark creatures skittered out of the shadows, invulnerable to nearly every attack, multiplying into the millions as the battles went on. They were hopeless. The world filled with black and beady yellow eyes, a great sea that swallowed the earth and him with it.

Now he is here, standing before a strange blue-skinned creature whose slick words speak of things he never dreamt possible.

"Still not on board?" Hades huffs, hands falling to his sides. "What's a guy gotta do to get a little trust around here?" A snap of his fingers; The air beside him thickens, shifts and twirls into smoke, and from it the perfectly reformed body of Aerith Gainsborough appears. Cloud's breath leaves him all at once, sharp and agonized.

"Now, see, that's the reaction I was looking for. Come on, what a deal, right? One life, for one life. You serve me, help me get rid of this upstart goody two shoes, and your girl goes free. One Get-Out-Of-Hell free card. How's that sound?"

Brow furrowed, eyes wet and wide, the man falls to his knees before her. "… how?" He whispers. "How did she come here?" She's supposed to be in the lifestream – supposed to be at peace.

"That would be the Heartless – nasty little guys, with the feelers, and the big eyes?" He mimes with his hands. "Any world taken by Heartless, any people killed, those souls all come here. Good, bad, ugly, whatever. And your little girlfriend here, too."

Cloud's throat goes dry. He knows his answer before his mouth opens. "What do I have to do?"

The smirk on Hades' face takes on a sharp edge.

It takes agony. It takes letting Hades sear into his flesh the words of enchantment that will bind him. It takes letting him cut and paste his body like a doll, taking piece by piece the parts that make him human. It takes swearing his soul into servitude until such time as the contract has been fulfilled. It takes blood, sweat, suffering, and tears.

And when it is over, he watches Aerith's body brighten, and then fade away.

"Wait, you said -!" Despite his exhaustion, he leaps to his feet, even as Hades holds his hands up.

"Hold your horses, kid, she's fine," He swipes a hand behind him. A portal appears, showing another place, somewhere beautiful and full of life. He sees her, sees her eyes blink open and his heart skips. A gasp tears out of his throat. She's alive. "See?" Hades grins. "Am I a God of my word, or what? She's safe, she's alive, and I even went and sent her somewhere nice, see?" He gestures to the world. "I mean, come on, you didn't expect her to stay here, with you, did you? Down in the Underworld with the damned and dearly departed?"

That cold truth sinks into his chest like a lead weight. "No…" Cloud murmurs, eyes somber as he watches the girl stand, shock upon her face. She deserves better than this, than him. Better that she live in this other world, this world full of flowers.

"That's him?" Cloud stares in shock at his target, then turns angry eyes upon Hades. "I can't kill a kid!"

"Hm, well, that's unfortunate" The man scratches his chin. "Because I seem to recall something about owning your soul until you do."

The realization has his stomach sinking, and he looks back at the boy helplessly. He's training with his mentor, long gangly limbs and youthful vigor tripping him up each time. It hits too close to home. "No," Cloud frowns. "I won't."

Something in Hades' face then almost looks pleased. "Fine," He shrugs. "I guess he can wait, Prophecies take time and all, and maybe you'll man up when he's older and less baby-faced. Fine. Until then…" He smirks. "I'll find a use for you."

He feels used. Used and tricked and Cloud knows he still would have done it, anyway.

He still can't regret it. He hates it, hates Hades with all his might, but the knowledge that she is out there alive and well gives him peace.

Sometimes, he will summon up a portal in the manner of Hades – a talent given to him along with all the dark magic pumped into his blood – and watch her. She's with their friends, and she is happy. But sometimes he sees her glance up at the sky with forlorn eyes, and it almost looks as if she sees him and he ends the spell, feeling shamed and vulnerable and so incredibly alone.

She stands in flowers, a thousand worlds away. The world is peaceful, but her mind rebels against it. A strand of nerves runs beneath her skin.

Her hands tremble at her sides. She stares up at the blue sky, her hair and ribbon fluttering in the wind, and she just knows something is wrong.

"Cloud…" Aerith whispers. "Where are you?"

Months turn to years. Over time, Cloud learns his "place" in this new realm. Hades will give him orders, and he must obey them. His body is compelled to from the spell upon his arm; and his soul is compelled by the torment he's put through every time he manages to disobey anyway.

But the God is smart, and his spell tricky. It – warps him. Shifts his thoughts and his actions, whispers in the back of his mind, and Cloud wonders if this is anything like what Sephiroth suffered at Jenova's hands. In battle, with every kill and every wound inflicted, a rush of euphoric pleasure floods him, like nothing he has ever felt, tingling up from his arm. He has never enjoyed battle as much before and never taken pleasure in pain. He doesn't want to. He has no choice.

Sometimes, if the command is strong enough, and he still resists, the spell overwhelms him with a bloodlust he can't control. More than once he has awoken to find himself covered in blood and filth, surrounded by the dead, and he weeps that this is what he is now. He is a monster. He is the nightmare children are warned away from.

Time ceases to have meaning, and Cloud ceases to have any hope.

Sora leaves, and Cloud remains.

He doesn't let the kid know that he is far from free. It's obvious the Keyblade Bearer thought it was just a matter of a verbal agreement gone wrong – that he can just walk away and never serve Hades again. If it were only that simple.

Today has been a struggle; the battle against Hercules is one he's postponed for a long time. Now, he is resigned to it. His life is no longer of his own making, and if Hades wants Hercules dead, he will have to do it. So he entered the tournament, ready for it all to finally be over.

But the boy… he couldn't do it. For the same reason he couldn't kill Hercules all those years ago. He was so young, so soft and full of light, and with a grin and a laugh which brought to mind people Cloud has not seen in a long time. He can't kill this boy. He struggles with the command throughout the day, dizzy from the rush in his head, the whispers and the promises, the thrum of energy beneath his skin…

Hades must have realized he was fighting back. He released Cerberus as a punishment, as a way of killing the kid and hurting Cloud in the process. By some miracle, the kid survived. That alone makes this all worth it.

Cloud does not avoid the inevitable. He returns to the Underworld.

Blue mist rolls out from the land of the dead, as Cloud strides with purpose through its shadows. This place is his domain now as much as Hades'. He does not fear it. He does not like it, either.

In time he comes to the throne room, at the end of a long narrow stair, dark and secluded above the great lake.

The moment he enters he is besieged by fire.

"Look who decided to show up." Smoky hands lengthened by magic grip his throat and lift him from the ground. He may not need to breathe but it still hurts. Everything always hurts.

He is thrown through the air into the far wall, where more fire bristles upon his skin. Like Hades, his role has made him somewhat impervious to the element, but it can still be used to hurt. It is a magic fire, the kind that can crawl between your ribs and blister your soul. Hades has done it before.

"How many times," The man mutters, hand thrust before him. "How many times must we go through this!? It's a simple arrangement. You do what I want, I don't maim you. Done and done. But after all these years, you still don't get it." A chain manifests from nothing, and swings through the room – CRACK. It busts against the side of his head and he falls, seeing stars.

Dazed and confused, he groans as the metal wraps itself around his body, tying him up. "You don't make the rules, Spiky. I do. And when I say you kill the brat – you kill the brat. Capiche?" Cloud says nothing. A moment later, Hades bursts into red flame and screeches. "Fine! Let's see how this changes your mind!"

The chains lift him into the air, toss him from the room, and he freefalls into the lake below.

- tbc