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Bleary eyes opened. They blinked, and he shifted. Something was wrong. Curved walls rose around him, and the ceiling seemed to loom miles above, dotted with colourful blurs. He extended an arm, crying when he caught sight of it. Soft, pink, chubby; tiny. Oh Gaia, oh Gaia, what was happening? Why was he shaking? Why did he wail so mournfully?
Something like thunder filled the room, and he realised it was the creaking of floorboards. He choked. A low rumbling pervaded the air. A figure loomed overhead, his vision too blurry to make out anything; anything but the silver strands that fell by his face. Hands slipped beneath his back, and the figure dove in, smile on his face as he lifted him from his cradle.
"Oh my, didn't have a good nap, did we?" He pressed him against his tender bosom, running his fingers through his fluffy yellow hair as he wept. "Not to worry; mummy's here, Cloud."
Cloud let out an ear-splitting shriek. He beat his tiny fists against Sephiroth's laughing chest. He cooed, beginning to rock Cloud back and forth, which only incited yet another indignant scream. How-- How, and why? What did the beast want from him now?!
"Not taking well to this particular revelation, are we?" Cloud wanted to ask when had he ever taken well to Sephiroth's bullshit. This was horrible. He wanted to cry, but no tears would come out. His tender throat was raw from all his screaming, and he could only manage a long, droning wail; but even that was proving hard. Sephiroth's lips pulled into a pout of faux-compassion, and he pressed a kiss to Cloud's head.
Strangely, all his rage melted away. His indignance simmered, but his fists fell and his mouth slackened. Just what was going on? Sephiroth's breath was hot against his forehead, and he kissed; again, and again, and again, and again. He peppered Cloud's cheeks, his fingers, even his knees and toes with them. Cloud's weak grunt was answered with a nuzzle to his stomach, followed by yet another kiss. An odd calm fell over him.
"There we go," Cloud felt him ease into a seat. "Much better."
Cloud whimpered. Those green eyes looked upon him with lidded triumph. Again, a hand ran through his hair, cupping his little head, stroking him gently with its thumb. A sigh left Sephiroth, and for a moment, he seemed perfectly enamoured. Cloud's big, baleful blue eyes looked on in mingled curiousity, trepidation, and contentment.
"You must be wondering why you're here, aren't you?"
Cloud's face screwed up, but eased shortly. That troubled him. Whatever it was that had been done, it'd rendered Cloud's body incapable of resistence; physical and emotional. He nodded.
"I thought so," Sephiroth smiled. He brushed Cloud's cheek, moving the hair from his face. "Let's get lunch first, shall we?"
And with that, he was hoisted onto Sephiroth's shoulder, and carried out of the room.
The journey was brief; the passage lead directly into the main room. Unease filled Cloud as it sank in how little he could see. Even still, he surmised that it was a homely, if sleek and sparse, space.
Presently, Sephiroth made it to the kitchen counter. After refilling, he set on the kettle, and waited. He leaned back against the surface, bouncing Cloud softly with one arm. His body revelled in it. The day outside was overcast-- if there even was an outside. There was a chance none of this was real; a chance Cloud clung onto; and dearly.
The water boiled, and Sephiroth poured himself a cup of tea. He cut up a sandwich, before settling down at a nearby table. Cloud lay, cradled in his arm. He began to eat. Cloud whined.
"We'll talk later," he huffed. "Unless,"
He gave Cloud a thoughtful look-- something that never boded well. A sandwich slice lay in one hand; looking ready to fall any moment. Cloud knew better.
"You're hungry?"
It was then he realised the growing hollow in his stomach. Fuck. Did he really want to be taking food from his enemy? Did he really?
Even still, that small body of his yearned. Dammit to hell. Just what did Sephiroth do?
He needed answers.
Cloud shook his head. Furiously. Sephiroth hummed.
"Suit yourself, then," and dug in.
Cloud glared for the next long, five minutes. Nothing was heard or done save for the beast's chewing, and the occasional bounce awarded to the furious infant. Cloud's stomach continued to ache. As Sephiroth made to pick up his other slice, he sighed.
"I understand you have little power here, but what do you hope to achieve with this meagre 'protest'?" He looked him over, and leaned in. "Hmm?"
Cloud sneezed. The beast laughed, and hoisted him up, kissing his cheek.
"Oh, I can't remain miffed at you for long, can I?" Cloud's breath stilled. Stilled as he took in the glory of Sephiroth; all pale skin, bright eyes, and frumpy tender grace. His belt was unbuckled, and his coat fell open. He wasn't even wearing any suspenders. He looked so, content.
"Not when you're my little baby."
Cloud.
Cloud.
Well, Cloud doesn't know what to think.
Was he just... toying with him...?
Like some kind of baby-doll?
W...W...?
Sephiroth's face rose into a snide, almost pitying look.
What?
"You don't get it, do you?"
Cloud blinked.
Sephiroth drew him in. Placed his mouth right by his little ear.
"You're here because I bore you." Something lit in Cloud's chest. Sephiroth's voice falls low and gravelly. "I'm your mother, Cloud."
It took half an hour of cuddling, coaxing, rocking and soft singing to stop Cloud crying. By the end of it, not a breath was left in his lungs. His throat was raw, and more snot had dribbled down his mouth and chin than he'd ever thought possible in all his life. Sephiroth was soft. Sephiroth was sweet. Cloud hated it. Hated him.
He was a bastard and Cloud wanted to go home.
"I know, baby, I know," he mumbled, for the hundreth time. Then why did he do it? Monster. Sick monster. "Chhh, chhhhh..." He kissed him, again. His lips had grown to be possibly Cloud's least favourite texture. And yet he melted, anyway. This body of his capitulated, because it was born of foul alien flesh and mako-laced milk. He hated it. Hated its chubby pink fingers and its soft pink lips open so eagerly to fill its stomach with poison.
Hated him.
Hated himself.
Perhaps none of this would've happened if it weren't for him.
None of it.
Perhaps, had he been man enough, he'd've gotten the courage to ask Tifa out and live those early years together. To leave the world to those who'd fight further.
Who wouldn't hand Sephiroth black materia.
None of this would've happened and he could tell Tifa he loved her-- Tell her he loved her, and mean every word of it.
"Look at me, Cloud," He couldn't. He wouldn't. His head remained buried in the crook of his neck. Eyes pressed deep. Pressed shut. Pretend he wasn't here. Somewhere else. Maybe he was. Maybe Sephiroth was lying. He'd done that before. It was all he ever did. "Look at me."
He nested his fingers beneath Cloud's chin, and tilted it upwards. Towards him. His eyes. His face was content and confident. The look of a man who believed all to be under control. Believed.
Cloud would prove him wrong.
He knew it.
Knew it like he knew the sky was blue.
"a."
Sephiroth laughed beneath his breath. "'a' indeed, my love." He tucked his sticky yellow hair out of his sticky red face. "And 'love' you are. All I ask of you, my dear," He took his hand in his; both rosy-knuckled. "that you love me too; for every night of your life."
And then he woke up, covered in sweat. In the sheets. With Tifa by his side, asleep.
And he clung close, all night long.