Hush Little Baby, Chapter Nine
Summary: Something is bothering Cloud, but the blond won't say a word.
Rating: Mature for adult themes.
Warnings: Vague descriptions of past violence etc, but nothing very graphic.
Characters: Zack, Cloud, Sephiroth, others as they pop up.
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of FFVII, nor do I make money out of this.
AN: Sorry, there's been a bit of a mix up. This is chapter nine, and it does come before chapter ten. (I know, I know, but bear with me). It's been posted after chapter ten because the original chapter nine wasn't working too well. Phew. Did you get all that?
Previous chapters
Chapter 9
Cloud seemed...calm. But this did not soothe Zack’s mind as he walked into the too-small cell holding his friend.
Perhaps the most immediately troubling thing was the fact that Cloud’s face was slightly red, his cheeks were wet with obvious tears and his nose was running. The younger’s usually pretty face was puffy and blotchy, sweaty with the exertion of shoulder-wracking crying, and there was mucus covering the soft, downy skin between nose and mouth.
And this, Zack thought, this is the reality.
And he had to deal with it.
For a moment he wasn’t sure that he could. For a moment he wanted nothing better than to run back to his bed, burrow under the covers and sleep until he had convinced himself that this was a bad dream.
The immediate guilt and disgust with himself felt like fire.
It spurred him further into the cell, and further into the eerily still air that surrounded Cloud.
He was perfectly static. No more tears or shuddering, no sobs, shoulders lax and still, eyes wide and blinking slowly. It seemed that time itself was static. Nothing moved, not even the stale, misty air of that wretched little cell, which was supposedly propelled by air con.
It reminded Zack of the eye of the storms that they used to have in Gongaga. The sun would be spitefully shining brightly after a wave of devastating destruction. There would be pleasant shadows cast through the trees, causing a summer-like dapple effect to lie on the grass. But the blackest of the clouds would linger above, tainting the sunlight and dappling strangely, as though the sun were trying to shine through a black gauze of netting.
Zack didn’t need to look to know that Cloud was sitting on a tiny, sun-speckled hill of green, where all was still, and he was cradled in the eye of the storm which continued to rage around him.
That solitary hill held no place for Zack. It could contain Cloud and the debris of the winds, but for the moment, that was all.
It didn’t seem as though Cloud had even noticed that Zack had entered the room.
For a moment the elder stared and sat in perfect helplessness that was new to him. He didn’t know what to say, and it was killing him.
But then his mother’s voice came back to him, distant and faint, but its message no less clear than the day he had heard it, ten years ago.
“Ma, his house has been destroyed, shouldn’t we...I dunno...say something?”
The old man had been sitting, staring at the debris that had once made up his house, destroyed by the winds days ago. And since then, everybody had just bustled by, picking up rubble and placidly going through the motions of rebuilding and restoring the house. No one had spoken a single word to him.
“Zack,” his mother had replied, pausing in her hefting of broken bricks, “sometimes, there aren’t any words that can fix things, or people. And then, the only option that’s left to you, is to just do. Because sometimes we can show people what we mean, far better than words could eve explain.”
Zack sent a prayer of thanks home to his mother, thinking of all the damn near indispensable pieces of advice that she had dispensed over the years, that had seemed like a crock of shit at the time.
With his mother’s voice in mind, Zack finally realised what he wanted to show Cloud, and he fished out a handkerchief from his pocket - and he’d eat his gloves if that wasn’t his mother’s hanky - and slowly reached out to Cloud.
Ever so gently and slowly, he smoothed the soft material over the younger man’s face, wiping carefully under Cloud’s eyes with just one silk-covered finger, drying the sticky tear-trails off of his face. He then carefully brought the handkerchief down to wipe away the mucus and the tears from around Cloud’s nose and mouth, determined to give the kid his dignity back before anyone intruded.
Cloud twitched a little and Zack stilled, but instead of being a prelude to disaster, the simple human contact seemed to reach Cloud. He stumbled away from the lonely hill. He looked at Zack for the first time.
“Zack?” His voice rasped.
“Hey.” The older man smiled.
Then he gently drew his friend to his feet. One strong hand cupped Cloud’s elbow and the other encircled his waist. Cloud followed docilely until they reached the door to the cell, whereupon Cloud seemed to have regained a little awareness of what had happened. Of how fucked up everything was, of how much trouble he was in -
“Zack?”
The voice was wary, and it wavered ever so slightly as he dug in his heels, refusing to go further, as if he thought people were waiting just outside to charge him with insubordination.
Zack had to take a step back so that he was once again level with Cloud. He rested his hand gently on the back of the other’s head, thumb stroking a slow and soothing pattern.
“It’s alright. Everything’s okay. It’s all been dealt with,” was all he said, voice low and quiet, lips pressed near Cloud’s ear, wanting to ensure that nobody interfered with them.
Don’t tell him that Seph had had to cut through the red tape, sign the paperwork. Don’t tell him that the instructor he had assaulted -no matter how understanding the man was - had been ‘informed’ of his situation. Don’t tell him that his privacy had been invaded once again. Not now.
He nodded to Sephiroth as they walked past.
***
Zack had said nothing until they got back to his apartment, upon which time he had simply turned to Cloud, wrapping him in his arms and a warm hairy blanket and simply asked, “TV? It’s primetime.”
The smile hadn’t been the usual one, but then again Zack probably would have been panicked if it was. This shaky but genuine smile, along with clear and focused eyes, were more than Zack had hoped for.
So he had guided them both to the sofa - he had never realised how soft and spongy it was before - it was nice, comforting. And he had flicked through the channels until he found something suitably ‘safe.’ And they had sat there, just the two of them, Zack’s arm draped very lightly over Cloud’s shoulders, ready to be taken away at a moment’s notice that he didn’t appreciate the contact.
But there wasn’t any such notice. So it stayed there.
***
The ringing of his PHS woke him, and he grabbed it quickly, silencing it harshly, because if it disturbed the young man sleeping against his chest, there would be hell to pay.
“Yes?” Hissed, impatient.
“Zackary, sorry to disturb you. I thought you should know.” That unmistakeably deep, authoritative voice.
A shiver tripped up Zack’s spine.
“Know what, Seph.”
“I’ve been through the footage of the surveillance cameras from the cadet dorms, and I’ve isolated images of an officer entering Strife’s room. It corresponds with the time that you gave me.”
Zack took a breath that was released in an aborted stutter, unable to know what to say.
Sephiroth quickly cut in before Zack could regain his composure.
“I have people researching. You don’t need to do anything. Don’t ask me for his name. It is irrelevant for now. He is currently posted in Mideel, on a mission. He will return in three days. I am not giving you his name, we don’t need you to kill him before we get a chance to speak with him. For now, stay with Strife.”
And with that, Zack was left with astonishment and a dial tone ringing in his ears.
He slumped backwards, wincing when Cloud shifted in his sleep.
How the fuck was he supposed to feel about this?
TBC
Huge apologies for the delay.
Rating: Mature for adult themes.
Warnings: Vague descriptions of past violence etc, but nothing very graphic.
Characters: Zack, Cloud, Sephiroth, others as they pop up.
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of FFVII, nor do I make money out of this.
AN: Sorry, there's been a bit of a mix up. This is chapter nine, and it does come before chapter ten. (I know, I know, but bear with me). It's been posted after chapter ten because the original chapter nine wasn't working too well. Phew. Did you get all that?
Previous chapters
Chapter 9
Cloud seemed...calm. But this did not soothe Zack’s mind as he walked into the too-small cell holding his friend.
Perhaps the most immediately troubling thing was the fact that Cloud’s face was slightly red, his cheeks were wet with obvious tears and his nose was running. The younger’s usually pretty face was puffy and blotchy, sweaty with the exertion of shoulder-wracking crying, and there was mucus covering the soft, downy skin between nose and mouth.
And this, Zack thought, this is the reality.
And he had to deal with it.
For a moment he wasn’t sure that he could. For a moment he wanted nothing better than to run back to his bed, burrow under the covers and sleep until he had convinced himself that this was a bad dream.
The immediate guilt and disgust with himself felt like fire.
It spurred him further into the cell, and further into the eerily still air that surrounded Cloud.
He was perfectly static. No more tears or shuddering, no sobs, shoulders lax and still, eyes wide and blinking slowly. It seemed that time itself was static. Nothing moved, not even the stale, misty air of that wretched little cell, which was supposedly propelled by air con.
It reminded Zack of the eye of the storms that they used to have in Gongaga. The sun would be spitefully shining brightly after a wave of devastating destruction. There would be pleasant shadows cast through the trees, causing a summer-like dapple effect to lie on the grass. But the blackest of the clouds would linger above, tainting the sunlight and dappling strangely, as though the sun were trying to shine through a black gauze of netting.
Zack didn’t need to look to know that Cloud was sitting on a tiny, sun-speckled hill of green, where all was still, and he was cradled in the eye of the storm which continued to rage around him.
That solitary hill held no place for Zack. It could contain Cloud and the debris of the winds, but for the moment, that was all.
It didn’t seem as though Cloud had even noticed that Zack had entered the room.
For a moment the elder stared and sat in perfect helplessness that was new to him. He didn’t know what to say, and it was killing him.
But then his mother’s voice came back to him, distant and faint, but its message no less clear than the day he had heard it, ten years ago.
“Ma, his house has been destroyed, shouldn’t we...I dunno...say something?”
The old man had been sitting, staring at the debris that had once made up his house, destroyed by the winds days ago. And since then, everybody had just bustled by, picking up rubble and placidly going through the motions of rebuilding and restoring the house. No one had spoken a single word to him.
“Zack,” his mother had replied, pausing in her hefting of broken bricks, “sometimes, there aren’t any words that can fix things, or people. And then, the only option that’s left to you, is to just do. Because sometimes we can show people what we mean, far better than words could eve explain.”
Zack sent a prayer of thanks home to his mother, thinking of all the damn near indispensable pieces of advice that she had dispensed over the years, that had seemed like a crock of shit at the time.
With his mother’s voice in mind, Zack finally realised what he wanted to show Cloud, and he fished out a handkerchief from his pocket - and he’d eat his gloves if that wasn’t his mother’s hanky - and slowly reached out to Cloud.
Ever so gently and slowly, he smoothed the soft material over the younger man’s face, wiping carefully under Cloud’s eyes with just one silk-covered finger, drying the sticky tear-trails off of his face. He then carefully brought the handkerchief down to wipe away the mucus and the tears from around Cloud’s nose and mouth, determined to give the kid his dignity back before anyone intruded.
Cloud twitched a little and Zack stilled, but instead of being a prelude to disaster, the simple human contact seemed to reach Cloud. He stumbled away from the lonely hill. He looked at Zack for the first time.
“Zack?” His voice rasped.
“Hey.” The older man smiled.
Then he gently drew his friend to his feet. One strong hand cupped Cloud’s elbow and the other encircled his waist. Cloud followed docilely until they reached the door to the cell, whereupon Cloud seemed to have regained a little awareness of what had happened. Of how fucked up everything was, of how much trouble he was in -
“Zack?”
The voice was wary, and it wavered ever so slightly as he dug in his heels, refusing to go further, as if he thought people were waiting just outside to charge him with insubordination.
Zack had to take a step back so that he was once again level with Cloud. He rested his hand gently on the back of the other’s head, thumb stroking a slow and soothing pattern.
“It’s alright. Everything’s okay. It’s all been dealt with,” was all he said, voice low and quiet, lips pressed near Cloud’s ear, wanting to ensure that nobody interfered with them.
Don’t tell him that Seph had had to cut through the red tape, sign the paperwork. Don’t tell him that the instructor he had assaulted -no matter how understanding the man was - had been ‘informed’ of his situation. Don’t tell him that his privacy had been invaded once again. Not now.
He nodded to Sephiroth as they walked past.
***
Zack had said nothing until they got back to his apartment, upon which time he had simply turned to Cloud, wrapping him in his arms and a warm hairy blanket and simply asked, “TV? It’s primetime.”
The smile hadn’t been the usual one, but then again Zack probably would have been panicked if it was. This shaky but genuine smile, along with clear and focused eyes, were more than Zack had hoped for.
So he had guided them both to the sofa - he had never realised how soft and spongy it was before - it was nice, comforting. And he had flicked through the channels until he found something suitably ‘safe.’ And they had sat there, just the two of them, Zack’s arm draped very lightly over Cloud’s shoulders, ready to be taken away at a moment’s notice that he didn’t appreciate the contact.
But there wasn’t any such notice. So it stayed there.
***
The ringing of his PHS woke him, and he grabbed it quickly, silencing it harshly, because if it disturbed the young man sleeping against his chest, there would be hell to pay.
“Yes?” Hissed, impatient.
“Zackary, sorry to disturb you. I thought you should know.” That unmistakeably deep, authoritative voice.
A shiver tripped up Zack’s spine.
“Know what, Seph.”
“I’ve been through the footage of the surveillance cameras from the cadet dorms, and I’ve isolated images of an officer entering Strife’s room. It corresponds with the time that you gave me.”
Zack took a breath that was released in an aborted stutter, unable to know what to say.
Sephiroth quickly cut in before Zack could regain his composure.
“I have people researching. You don’t need to do anything. Don’t ask me for his name. It is irrelevant for now. He is currently posted in Mideel, on a mission. He will return in three days. I am not giving you his name, we don’t need you to kill him before we get a chance to speak with him. For now, stay with Strife.”
And with that, Zack was left with astonishment and a dial tone ringing in his ears.
He slumped backwards, wincing when Cloud shifted in his sleep.
How the fuck was he supposed to feel about this?
TBC
Huge apologies for the delay.