CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Cloud sat in the dry dust under the starry night sky, the knees of his pants filthy, hands smeared with black grease. He had a rag, equally as grubby, that he absently wiped his fingers on as he worked on his bike. His hand hovered over a selection of wrenches laid out across the ground, and for a moment he couldn't remember which one he needed. His mind was blank, thoughts flying far.
"Having trouble?"
His head snapped around, startled, turning to wariness as Zack emerged from the shadows, entering the spill of light coming from the open garden shed the bike lived in. Cloud eyed him for a moment, before picking the correct tool and silently shaking his head. He scooted closer to the machine, inserting his arm behind one wheel and continuing.
"Fenrir broken?" Zack inquired, shifting closer, hands dug into his pockets.
"Tune up," the blond answered shortly.
Zack bobbed his head. "Ah. Right."
For a while, there was just the sound of Cloud's tinkering, the man's face set in concentration, ignoring the soldier behind him. "Nice necklace," Zack commented quietly. Cloud paused, glanced down at the long chain that had slipped from his shirt, the dog-tags weighing it down, swinging with each motion. He grabbed them, tucked them away with a scowl. Zack sighed. "Are we ever going to talk about this?"
Cloud grunted softly. "What's there to talk about?"
The other man eyeballed his hands. "You know, you shouldn't be doing that with those knuckles. You want to get an infection?"
Cloud shrugged. "Maybe," he answered, sounding bored. The muscles in his arm sprang taut as he tightened a bolt. Zack sighed.
"Okay, Spike. I'll bite. What's on your mind? And don't tell me it's nothing."
"It's not enough that two good kids think they were put in hospital because of my ex?" the blond muttered. "Or that the people I was starting to think of as actual friends all hate me now?"
"They don't all hate you, Spike," Zack said patiently. "Yuffie's mad about Wutai, everyone else is surprised, and Leon – well, I don't know the man too well, but I think I can confidently call him an asshole."
Something clanged loudly as Cloud wrenched his arm from the bike's innards. "You know, Zack? You're right," he said curtly. He grabbed the rag, smeared his grease-covered hands uselessly. "You don't know Leon well. At all." He got to his feet, walked towards the shed. The black-spiked man smirked, hands moving to his hips.
"I knew it. You like him."
Cloud stopped short, fixed the man with a hard look. "Why are we still soldiers?"
Zack blinked, frowned. "Huh?"
Cloud changed course, came back towards him, a look of intense frustration on his features. "Why does it feel like it's only been one year since the war instead of ten? Damn it, Zack!" He balled up the rag, turned and threw it through the open doorway into the workshop. "Why are we still soldiers? There's no war anymore! Hasn't been for a decade! So why the hell was Seph still a general? Why was I a Captain before I ran?" He shoved the man sharply, catching him unawares, sending him staggering back with a startled look. "Why the hell are you still a Lieutenant?"
Zack caught his footing, annoyed. "Because wars don't just end, Cloud, you know that. The repercussions last longer than the fighting ever will! I'm still a soldier so I can help people, Spike – I might not be part of some Committee dedicated to it, but it doesn't mean I haven't rebuilt my share of houses. You've done it, too. Don't let six weeks among these people twist what you were once proud of!"
Cloud's arms dangled by his sides. Tiredly, he said, "Ah, hell, Zack. Pride doesn't last forever. What does it even matter anymore?"
They stared at each other for a long moment. "Is that really how you feel?" the darker man asked quietly. "Or is that just your guilt talking?"
Cloud lowered his head. "You want to know why the war still seems so recent here, Zack? It's because – Hollow Bastion's still rebuilding. And they'll probably be going when we're old and grey. Whatever I once was proud of – it melted when I got here. My pride – it's nothing compared to what these people do." He lifted his gaze slowly, resting briefly on the other man before continuing up to the stars. "Maybe if Sephiroth had felt some of what they've made me feel, he wouldn't have… lost himself."
Zack sighed, raised his eyes also, taking in the twinkling vista. "I don't suppose there's any news on who the real attacker was?"
Cloud hesitated. "I don't know. I haven't spoken to anyone all day."
Zack scowled. "Don't hide yourself away, Spike. You know it doesn't work."
He got a grunted response. Then the blond paused, detecting something in the other's tone. He twisted his head minutely to one side. "You're – leaving… aren't you?"
Zack shrugged, smiled faintly. "I've done what I came to do. I'll head down into Hollow Bastion in the morning, say bye to the guys in hospital – after that, yeah, it's back to the Gongaga post for me."
Cloud laughed shortly, bitterly. "Your first leave in three years, and you use it to come tell me my crazy boyfriend's dead."
Zack sobered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin things here for you."
The blond ruefully shook his head. "Any problems I've got now are all my own fault."
Zack regarded him with a sad smile. "Sure you won't come with me? There's still a lot to be done in the rest of the world, too – and the people out there don't hate Zanarkand like Hollow Bastion does. You could find a new space for yourself, Spike. You're not running from Seph anymore."
Cloud was quiet for a while. "I feel… pathetic, finding that so tempting. But…" He shook his head slowly, blond spikes shifting back and forth. "If they'll keep me – I – I want to stay."
"What if they won't?" Zack asked softly. Cloud fixed him with a blank look.
"Then, I guess – I – I'll come find you." He dipped his head. "Or – I don't know. I'll find something. Maybe… maybe I could move down to the city… I don't have to be part of the Committee to be able to help."
Zack inclined his head. "That's true." He studied the blond, watched the wide eyes, the way they gazed at nothing, directed to the ground. "But you know I'll take care of you if you want me to. You know you've always got a room with me, Cloud, no matter where I am or what I'm doing." He smiled gently. "You know how much I love you."
Cloud nodded slowly. "I know. I love you too. That's not going to change." A pained expression rippled across his face. "I'm sorry it was you that had to identify the body. I should have been there. I should have – should've at least…"
Zack touched his shoulder, and when the blond turned, pulled him into a hug. "No. It's better this way. I'd rather it was me than you… Seph hurt you enough when he was alive."
Cloud burrowed his forehead into the other man's shoulder. "I wish we knew who hurt the kids."
Zack nodded. "I know. Me too. And you will find out." He smiled, tightening his arms around the blond. "And when you do, make sure to send me a note. I'll come to the trial, the execution, anything. That, and I'm damn curious."
Cloud chuckled weakly. "As long as it's not Sephiroth back from the dead, I'll be satisfied."
Zack patted his back. "He's not coming back, Spike. He's gone. You're going to be okay now."
"It's not like he ever hurt me…" the man mumbled. Zack pulled away, gripping his shoulders, face serious.
"There's more than one way to hurt someone, Cloud. Seph's specialty was mental. He didn't need to lay a finger on you to leave scars."
Cloud shrugged. "Well, it is what it is. Or was."
There was a long silence between them, each studying the other. At last, Zack nodded, released him, arms dropping slowly to his sides. "I'll miss you."
"At least this time it isn't me leaving," Cloud replied, smiling weakly. Zack snorted.
"There's a first time for everything, right?" He sobered a little, gestured to the other's shirt. "You gonna keep those tags?"
Cloud's expression turned thoughtful, a frown in place. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it, I guess." He hooked them out, ran his thumb over the metal. "They're my last connection to him."
Zack watched him. "You know what I think?" When Cloud didn't respond, he said, "I think you should talk to Leon before you decide anything. About staying or leaving, about the tags, about – about anything. Talk to Leon." He smiled crookedly. "After all, you just all but told me he isn't an asshole, despite how much you've been bitching since the second I set foot in this place. Maybe he'll help you decide what to do."
"Help me?" Cloud echoed perplexedly. "How could he possibly help me with that sort of decision?"
Zack rolled his eyes, exhaled sharply. "Honest to God, Spike, sometimes I think you got dropped on your head. I'm not gonna tell you if you're not going to even consider it. Just – go talk to the damn man. Butt heads with him if necessary, but I think he'll…" He smiled. "Yeah. I think he'll help."
Cloud shrugged. "Whatever you say," he muttered. He shifted over to the bike, and started to clean up. After a moment, Zack grinned, and went to help.
.o.O.o.
Roxas woke up having his feet kissed, gentle, non-invasive pecks, like maybe Axel didn't want to wake him but couldn't help himself to touch them. A slow smile spread awkwardly over the boy's lumpy face. His toes curled slightly in reaction to the tickling brush, and Axel paused. "Roxie?"
Garbled, swollen jaw and a tooth gone from the back, throat hoarse from all the blood that had graced it, dry from the breathing through the mouth which was constant, "Hi."
Axel's hand was warm on his ankle, drawing up and down gently. "Are you okay?"
Roxas nodded, felt the stab and winced, realised the redhead couldn't see him and replied, "Yeah. You?"
A low chuckle. "Still breathing, aren't I?" Fingertips tapping the bone of his ankle. "What're you doing here?"
"Came to visit," Roxas rasped. "Figured you'd… you'd…" The lightness dropped; he couldn't think of an amusing response, because his brain was screaming the truth too loudly. "I was scared you were dying. I had to come see."
Axel sighed, lay a cheek against the curve of his soft sole. "I'm fine, Rox. I'm just glad that you're okay. That's all that matters to me. That fucking psycho… He half-killed you."
Roxas laughed weakly, coughed. "Exaggerating again. That's what you said the last time he beat me up."
Axel frowned, his long fingers tightening slightly against the teen's skin. "So it really was him in the valley? How do you know?"
"Ah…" Roxas sighed huskily. "The shit he said. It was the same guy."
Axel dropped a kiss on the ball of his foot, tickling unintentionally. "Dem said Vince was heading out after him. Guy used to be an assassin. If anyone can find that fucker, it's him."
"No one else got hurt, did they?" the blond asked nervously. He choked, throat catching, tapering off into a hoarse whisper. He scowled and cursed voicelessly, frustrated by his own uselessness. The pain thumping through every pressure point was exhausting, made him want to curl into a ball and escape, if only there weren't a vivid pyromaniac holding onto his leg, nails scratching gently through the hairs. Axel patted him.
"No, just us. Larx kicked fucking ass, though she didn't fry the guy like I hoped she would. Fucking taser. Then she grabbed you and ran. Sephiroth decided he didn't want to get set on fire and left." He added in a mutter, "I still can't believe no one caught him. It's like he just fucking waltzed out of the place without a care in the world."
Roxas laughed again, an aching noise. "You swear a lot more when you're in pain," he hissed.
"Jesus, listen to you. Hang on." Roxas closed his eyes, heard a clatter, felt the mattress shift, Axel giving a small grunt of what must have been pain. Roxas breathed slowly, taking his own stabs in stride. There was the sound of water pouring. "Can you sit up, Roxie?" Axel asked in a strained tone. Roxas wanted to refuse, tell him there was no way in hell he was sitting after the effort it cost him to get here, the toll it had taken that he had yet to recover from. But the thought of a drink was enchanting. His raw throat begged for it.
He clutched the sheets, brought himself up inch by difficult inch, face contorting, his torso hurting as if all but one rib had been snapped in half. He grunted, nearly in tears by the time he was upright. Axel's expression dropped slowly as Roxas was revealed, growing unemotional. As the blond finally stopped pulling, sagging down into himself, breathing hard through his lips, Axel's fingers tightened around the small plastic yellow cup. Roxas took a moment to catch his breath, gestured for the drink, looked up in confusion when Axel didn't move.
"Axel?" he whispered. Long fingers came out, touched the underside of his chin, tilting his head back a small amount before shifting around to lift the hair from the boy's face.
"Should've burned him," he said at last, so softly it was almost inaudible, "and fuck the consequences. It would've been worth it." He released Roxas, still flat, and passed over the cup. Roxas shook his head weakly, sucked the liquid noisily, felt the coldness travel down through his chest. The redhead took the empty cup and placed it on the nightstand. He opened one arm for Roxas to come into. "Can you stand to lie on your side, Rox?"
The blond looked over dubiously. "I – I don't think I can. It hurts too bad." Axel's expression grew duller.
"You should have stayed in bed. I'm not worth this."
"That's not true," the blond snapped suddenly, voice stronger with the fluid, patience thinner with the pain. "I told you. I had to come make sure you were okay."
"At the detriment of yourself, Roxas," Axel argued. "I'm fine, okay? I might have some splintering and shit going on, but hell, at least it's only around the one shoulder and arm. Your whole fucking body has been pummelled. You might get better quicker than me, but you're sure as hell in a lot more pain right now." They glared at each other for a moment, before the redhead said, "That's it, I'm buzzing the nurse."
"No!" Roxas grabbed him as he went to lean across, fingers closing on the arm belonging to the injured shoulder. Axel fell back instantly, growling, teeth clenched. Roxas gasped, felt dizzy.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"It's okay," Axel said tightly, hissing out a slow breath. "Just… the painkiller's wearing off a little… I'm due for another dose." He grabbed a small remote from beside the bed and pushed one of the buttons. Roxas deflated.
"You didn't need to call the nurse. If you really want me to go, I'll go."
"I do, because you're stupid to be walking around," Axel grunted, lying back down, "but that wasn't for the nurse." He grinned crookedly. "What, they didn't give you your own self-medicator? I just push the button, and a fresh dose comes flooding. I guess it's coz they like me better."
"Could be," Roxas agreed. "You're the prettier one, after all."
Axel stared. "You've seen, huh?"
"I can feel it." His fingers came up to gingerly touch the protrusions, Axel flinching.
"Don't. It hurts."
"You can't feel it, dumbass."
"It still hurts, Rox." He sighed, reached out and grabbed one of the hands, curling them together. "Don't," he repeated softly. "What you need right now is a lot of sleep. Stay til the nurse comes, then go with her and promise to be a good boy."
Your love is a good boy, just like you.
Roxas blinked, swayed a little. "A – a good boy?"
Axel smirked. "You can save the bad boy stuff for when we're both better, ne?"
"I – I'm not a bad boy," the blond answered dazedly. "I'm a good boy like you. I don't know who the bad boy is."
Axel cocked an eyebrow. "You okay in there, Rox?" His hand disconnected, rose up to gently touch the teen's forehead, again left almost untouched after the man's attack, the focus of the bruising around the cheeks and jaw. "You're kind of warm," he murmured. "Maybe I'll call the nurse after all…"
"No," Roxas breathed, eyes slipping shut. "I'm okay. Just – I feel a little weird. Just… tired out." He frowned as much as his face would allow, tongue catching on the hook of the tooth next to the gap where there had previously been another tooth, the broken splinters removed shortly after he'd been brought in. "Did you say that – did you call the guy by a name? You know who did this to us?"
"To you," said Axel quietly. "It's you he was after. He said his name's Sephiroth. Probably thinks he's clever… naming himself after that guy…"
"Which guy?"
"Nobody. It doesn't matter." He grimaced. "Vincent'll take care of him, I promise. This will never happen to you again, Roxas. I'll do anything to protect you."
"You… you've done more than enough. You got stabbed because of me." He shook his head slowly. "I really hope Vincent does get him." He raised his blue eyes, Axel seeing in the dimness that the white of the right one was coloured vivid red, capillaries burst. "I don't think I can stand to see you hurt again."
Axel smiled gently. "We'll both have to train extra hard from now on, then. Make sure the raids don't take us out."
Roxas groaned softly. "That wasn't even a raid… Just one guy…"
"One crazy-fast guy," the redhead muttered. "Don't worry, the ones from Zanarkand are cows in comparison. If they bred them like that, the castle would've fallen to them years ago."
There was a brief silence, broken when the nurse entered two minutes later looking flustered. She pressed a hand to her chest, breathed, "Oh, thank goodness." Her eyes narrowed. "It's lucky Miss Gainsborough warned me about you two, otherwise I would have thought you'd simply vanished from the hospital! This is not proper behaviour."
"It's okay," said Roxas tiredly. "I'm ready to go now. I'll… I'll be a good boy." The tone in his voice made Axel shoot him a strange look, but the redhead didn't comment. After all, Roxas had suffered some brutal blunt trauma to the head. Who could blame the kid for acting a little different for a while?
"Roxas," he said quietly, tugging carefully at the hem of the blond's shirt. Roxas paused, glanced down. Axel leaned up, kissed him. "That one's to tide you over." He lay back down with a smile. "Thanks for visiting, pain-buddy."
Roxas returned the expression half-heartedly. "Anytime." His brain caught up with his mouth. "Actually, no, fuck it, I'm not doing this again until I can walk properly."
"My thoughts precisely," the nurse bristled. Carefully, belying her tone, she helped him from the bed and led him out, leaving the redhead chuckling.
.o.O.o.
Zack entered Roxas' room the next morning with flowers, eyes darting about automatically for a vase. The blond slept. Not disturbing the boy, he went and opened the cupboard beneath the bedside dresser, found a large empty jam jar, pulled it out and filled it with a bottle of water. There was a scary-looking woman at the nurse's station down the hall that he didn't feel like disturbing to ask where the bathroom was. So the drinking water worked out nicely.
He sat the flower stems in, arranged them for a minute, trying to bring out their best side while automatically thinking of Aerith with a small smile, and placed the jar quietly on the dresser. He stood back to admire his work, eyes drifting over to the sleeping teen. He stepped closer, flinching visibly away from the damage, eyebrows knitting together. The kind of brutality it would have taken to pull something like this off sickened the man.
He found Demyx's discarded newspaper from the day before, sat down in Zexion's old chair, and started reading through the front pages. At length, it was the rustle of the paper that caught Roxas' attention, brought his mind curiously out of its floating state, eyes flickering open sleepily. For a moment, he was confused, didn't recognise the man that had come to visit. "Hi," he said uncertainly, sounding slightly better for wear than he had the previous night. He closed his eyes tightly, reached up slowly to rub them, ignoring the stinging. "What time is it?" he mumbled.
Zack smiled. "Does it matter when you're in here?" He checked his wristwatch nevertheless. "It's nearly midday, kid."
Roxas' newly opened eyes focused on the device with a scowl. "I hate those things."
Zack blinked blankly. "Watches?"
"Watches," the blond agreed in a mutter. "Nagging motherfuckers."
"…Okay, then." He raised his eyebrows, amused, as Roxas turned slowly, a frown forming, seeing the flowers out of the corner of his eye. He stared for a moment. The man was compelled to explain, "Aerith sent them with me. She can't visit til later this afternoon, so she wanted me to set you up. Not allergic, are you? She forgets sometimes that people can be…"
"No." Roxas shook his head, bewildered. His gaze fell upon the man again, and an identity clicked. "Zack." He rubbed his right eye a second time, an irritated sensation building up within it. "How – how come you're here?"
The man leaned his elbows on his knees, shrugged, smiling. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I've heard about you and all these little mishaps that keep happening."
Roxas snorted. "Little. Right."
Zack's smile grew strained. He tapped his fingertips together. "I also wanted to let you know that the guy that did this isn't who he said he was. I know you're from the Twilight network, so you don't know much of the local history yet, but the guy's pretending to be a general of the Zanarkand army. The real general is actually dead."
Roxas attempted to absorb this wedge of information. "So, uh…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "Does anyone actually know who did do it? Who the person really is?"
Zack shrugged. "Vincent's been tracking him, that's all I know. All yesterday and last night. No one knows who he really is though. All we've got is the physical description and the fact he's claiming to be Sephiroth."
"I thought at first that he was Riku," Roxas said hollowly. "I was so… shocked when he stabbed Axel like that… but then I realised."
Zack nodded slowly. "An easy mistake to make. It's not like there's a whole heap of guys out there with silver hair like that…" He leaned forward slightly, one eye squinted. "You don't think it was Riku, do you…?"
Roxas blinked. "No. Of course not. We'd have recognised him."
Zack sighed. "Yeah, you're right. Don't mind me, kid, just anxious to find a culprit." He grimaced, bent his head, scraped his nails through his hair. "Well, I can't stay long, Roxas, sorry to just drop in and shoot off. I just – yeah. I just wanted to set you straight, I guess." He stood, folding up the paper, leaving it on the chair, and folded his arms, looking down with concern. "Are you doing okay?"
Roxas snuffed a little laugh. "Nice time to ask… Yeah, I'm okay. Just – really sleepy. They keep waking me up to make me drink enough fluid."
"No I.V.?"
"They're worried about concussion… Won't let me fall asleep for more than two hours at a time…"
Zack was sympathetic. "Ouch. No fair, huh?" He scowled briefly. "Whoever it was that did this to you, I really hope they find him, Roxas. Not just to beat the crap out of him for hurting you guys, but so he can be put away where he won't hurt anyone else. This is all just sick."
"Telling me," the blond sighed, slumber once again sucking him back.
"Hey, before you fall asleep, I'll say bye, okay?" the man said softly. Roxas nodded.
"Okay. Bye. Coming back?"
"Uh – no. I'm heading back to my post." He smiled, flipped his collar. "Duty calls, and all that. I did what I came to do."
Roxas forced his eyes back open, frowning. "Oh. Well… it was nice meeting you. And… thanks for visiting me."
Zack winked. "No problem, kid. Take good care of momma Aerith, okay? And Cloud. Don't let him take himself too seriously."
"Uh… Well, I'll – try?"
The man chuckled. "Honestly? With those two, that's the best anyone can hope for." He sketched a wave. "Enjoy the flowers. You won't be alone for long, Roxas. Until the next time I come visiting, take care, okay? No more getting beat up!"
Roxas would have rolled his eyes, if he'd known it wouldn't hurt. "Yes, sir."
Zack exited the room with a final smile, the sound of his boots fading down the hall.
.o.O.o.
Cloud sat in the dining hall, after everyone had vacated. Even Larxene with her taser and screwdriver had left, either for sleep or a shift in monitoring Twilight Town or patrolling the castle. He sat in a metal chair at the Committee's regular table, the long necklace that once belonged to Sephiroth, identified him, woven between his fingers. His clear blue eyes were blank, fixed upon the shiny metal, flipping the tags back and forth, listening to the clink. Every now and then he'd pause, taking the tags between his fingers, feeling the coolness, the smoothness, thumbnail trailing slowly over the engravings.
Upon hearing the news, almost twenty-four hours ago now, he'd had no tears. Only… shock. And hopelessness. He'd tried so hard to stay, but in the end… In the end, Cloud had left, and Sephiroth had died. Those hands, at times gentle, other times rough, sometimes belonging to a killer… they would never move, never accentuate, never touch him again. It was over. Everything, that entire section of his life, was gone, blown away.
A coffee mug was placed on the table in front of him, loud in the silence, startling him from his reverie. Cloud glanced up, froze, shut down. He drew his eyes back down, flat and empty, all previous thoughts and emotions wiped from their shining surface. Leon turned the cup so that the handle faced him, took the chair beside him, movements heavy. A long silence developed. Cloud continued to play with the tags, while Leon slouched back in his seat, twisting his mug between his palms, frowning into the black depths of caffeine. At last, it was he who broke the contest of who could outlast the other. He was tired, of many, many things. "I'd have thought you'd be gone by now," he said carelessly. "Didn't Zack leave this morning?"
Cloud wound the beaded silver chain of the necklace around his knuckles, over the splits from the previous morning, tugging tight and relishing the pain. "I didn't want to go."
Leon raised an eyebrow, ever so slightly. "I can't imagine why not. After all, wasn't Sephiroth the whole reason you came here in the first place?" He sipped his drink. "Good idea, by the way. Hiding in neutral territory. He'd have been too scared to stick his nose around here."
"He wouldn't," Cloud said sharply. "He wasn't scared of anything this world had to offer." He took a breath, set his face carefully, yanked the chain harder, felt the splits begin to reopen. Leon watched dully.
"Why are you hurting yourself?"
"Because the physical pain distracts me from the shit going on inside," the blond muttered, giving another harsh pull. "Funny how the second you turn up, I get the urge to start bleeding."
Leon snorted. "You do this often?"
Cloud paused, twisted his head to give an irritated look. "What, punch windows and break open the scabs?" he asked sarcastically. "No, actually, I don't. Congratulations, you've inspired me in two minutes to do what the last two years with Sephiroth couldn't."
The brunet shrugged. "I try."
For a moment, Cloud wasn't sure what he meant. Try as in, make an effort to get on with him? Or try as in, do his damndest to be the biggest jerk-off he possibly could be? He sent the man an uncertain look, slowing in his activity. Leon didn't meet his gaze, but gestured his head towards the mug he'd placed down. "I got that for you, you know. It's not my backup."
Cloud blinked at him, at the coffee. He reached out, the chain still wrapped tight around his skin, pinching at the scabs, clinking when it touched the porcelain. He curled his fingers around the warmth, frowning, drew the mug up and took a mouthful. He swallowed, muttered, "You made it how I like it."
"One doesn't get to be the head of the Committee only by memorising one's colleagues' shoe sizes."
Cloud let out an unexpected laugh, startling the both of them. They stared at each other for a moment in surprise, before breaking off back into their own sullen little spaces. Cloud tapped his nails against the cup. Leon settled his elbows over the back of his chair, gazing over at the dark, reflecting windows banking the far wall. "So," he said casually, after another several minutes, "out of curiosity – why are you still here?"
Cloud scowled. "Look, if you want me to leave, just say so. Don't pussy-foot around it. I'm not in the mood."
"When have I ever pussy-footed around anything?" Leon asked, eyes rising. "If I wanted you gone, I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you. I wouldn't have got you a coffee, that's for damn sure."
"You might have spat in it," Cloud theorised. He glanced over with a faint smile, in time to catch Leon's eyes rolling. The smile died quickly. He placed his mug down on the table, hunched forward, elbows on the metal surface, slowly removing the chain. When it had come to its full length again, leaving numerous indentations in the blond's flesh, he laid it out, smoothing it straight, arranging the tags one on top of the other.
"How come Zack left without you?" Leon asked emotionlessly. "He seemed pretty fired-up to take you and Aerith away forever yesterday morning."
Cloud sighed, eyes narrowing down at the necklace. "That's Zack for you. Big brother extraordinaire. He takes it upon himself to look after me, whether I need it or not." He turned his head slightly, adding over his shoulder, "He didn't mean any harm by it. He was just looking out for me." He shrugged. "To be honest, I think he was feeling guilty after telling me about Seph. You guys gave him a nice outlet for his anger."
"So that's it?" the brunet asked sceptically. "He told you what happened, and now he's left?"
"I don't mind," replied Cloud quietly. "I don't need him holding my hand. I can handle myself."
Leon watched him for a while, before nodding slowly. "So, you want to remain with the Committee, then? Is that why you stayed?"
Cloud glanced back, held the man's gaze. "If – if I still can. I'd like to. It's… nice to – make a difference… You know?"
Leon cleared his throat, pulled his chair further in. He put his mug down next to Cloud's, turned it until the handle was facing the same way, until they looked identical aside from the black level within. "You can stay," he said carefully, not looking at the man, "on one condition. And – you're not allowed to argue about it. No matter what. It's this, or you're gone."
Cloud sat up a little straighter, blinking, brow creased in worry, a little trepidation, some suspicion. "What kind of condition?"
Leon took a deep breath, swung his eyes up, locked them on Cloud's. For a long moment, neither man spoke, just studied one another, neither flicking away, neither backing down. Before the risk grew too great for it to turn into a staring contest, their regular battle of wills, Leon quickly said, "You're not allowed to accuse me of accusing you of stealing anymore."
Cloud closed his eyes briefly, blond brows shooting high. When he opened them, Leon was watching him closely. "But – you do think – "
"You want me to throw you out on your ass here and now?" the brunet demanded. "Because, damn it, if you say it just once more, you're out of the team. We can't function if we don't trust one another."
Cloud scowled. "Do you trust me?"
"The question, actually, is do you trust me?" the man responded mildly. "You're the only one with issues around here. Except for maybe Yuffie," he conceded, "that'll take some work before she accepts you again."
"But…" Cloud's brows were drawn in consternation. "You mean – you don't think I stole that stuff? Even though it all started disappearing just after I arrived?"
Leon sighed. "Let me see." He tapped his coffee mug with an index finger. "You and your bike, with half a tonne of wooden struts, putting along – that would draw attention. You and your bike, with an emergency generator strapped on the back – that would draw attention. You disappearing for unaccountable periods of time, not telling anyone where you'd been – that would be suspicious." He levelled Cloud with a dry look. "Have you done any of the above? During your lunch breaks, maybe? While you paused to tie your shoe and we all went ahead that one time?"
"No need to be a wise-ass," the blond muttered. Leon shook his head, faintly frustrated.
"The point I'm trying to make is, there's absolutely no reason for me to suspect you. Not even a little bit. Not even for a second."
Cloud looked down at the necklace, features drawn into a deep frown. Then, very suddenly, he let out a laugh. "Out of all the things you should be asking me right now… All you want to know is if I trust you? Enough to believe that you trust me?"
"That's the proviso," Leon agreed. "Without trust, we've got nothing, Cloud."
The blond shot him a sour look. "We've got nothing anyway."
The first time either of them had acknowledged the vague emotions between them, and Leon chose to ignore it. "Then no, you can't stay." He shrugged simply. "Trust me, or fuck off."
"You know, I already talked to Zack about this," the blond said lightly. "I could always just move down the hill and work with Hollow Bastion directly."
Leon pursed his lips, stuck an elbow on the table, faced Cloud directly, a flat expression in place. "Do you want to stay, or not?"
Cloud flicked his eyes away, fingers fiddling with the metal beads of the necklace. He shrugged one shoulder. "I think it's obvious that I do."
"Can you trust me? Or is there something about me that just blocks you off?"
The blond shot him an irritated look. "Look, it's – it's not you. Yes. Okay? I have trust issues. That's… It's totally me. I have this – this guilty conscience thing going on. It's hard to kick. It's a habit."
Leon thought this over, staring hard. "Alright," he said at last. "I've got a proposition for you." He checked for Cloud's receptivity. "I want you to realise that no one thinks anything bad about you." There was a pause. He added, "That's it."
An eyebrow quirked. "What – that's it that's it?" Cloud rolled his eyes. "I'm not that bad. I just… I feel like if I were you, and you were me, I'd be pointing at you every time I entered the room. I'd be sneaking questions into casual conversations. That sort of thing. Try to catch you off-guard."
"And there's where trust comes into it," Leon replied, amused. "I trust you until you prove me to be an idiot for doing so. I give that benefit to all members of the Committee. You're no different."
Cloud sucked in a breath, smiled wryly. "I'm no different, huh? Even though I'm still technically a soldier of Zanarkand? Even though the guy that attacked Axel and Roxas is claiming to be my ex, who was the one that destroyed Wutai and helped demolish parts of Hollow Bastion during campaigns?"
Leon shrugged. "Does any of that make a difference to whether or not you're a worthwhile part of the Committee?"
Cloud's smile hovered. "No. I guess it doesn't."
"Do you accept that no one thinks anything bad of you? Barring Yuffie."
Cloud hesitated, flipped mentally through each member of the group, was forced to reluctantly nod. "I suppose… they don't, do they? Even – even you."
"Even me," Leon agreed calmly. Cloud fidgeted.
"So – who do you think is taking stuff?"
The man shook his head. "No clue. Cid's been coming up with some ideas for tracking the guy, but it all relies pretty heavily on the thief taking a certain thing… Making it too good to resist… I don't know." He sighed, drained his coffee cup. "Basically, I don't care right now. It's too late, and for once I don't have a whole heap of papers to work through. I just came to see why you were still around, and now I know." He pushed back, stood, tugged the short hem of his jacket around his waist. "You should get to bed sometime soon."
Cloud nodded, attention drifting back to Sephiroth's tags. A finger stretched out, touched the metal, slightly coloured now by his blood. Leon paused, looked down at him for a long minute. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "For your loss." He nodded to the tags as Cloud glanced up in surprise. "It can't be easy for you. I hope… it gets better."
Cloud swallowed, nodded. "I'm okay. Really. But – thanks."
Leon shrugged slightly, grunted, "Hn. Whatever," throwing them back into their known roles, easing whatever tension had grown between them during the conversation.
He left the hall, never feeling Cloud's small, genuine smile on his back.
