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Cid had witnessed every kind of abuse, every kind of pain, had seen all manner of beaten down souls, and experienced it all in turn. He was no stranger to the kind of fragility that comes with being a slave to a cruel master, which was more like as not in their wretched little world. Every bearer that fell into his care, every harrowed expression, all their pain and misery - Cid understood it. He felt it. He knew it. And, if he said so himself, it had made him rather adept at helping people out of it. Sure, he wasn't plying people with rainbows and kisses, but he could always give a struggling bearer something else to focus on. And, before they knew it, that bearer was smiling again. Alright, perhaps not smiling, but at least they had a warm bed, three squares, and a non-aether-related job to do.
'Adept' might have been too generous. Perhaps 'better than the alternative' was a more apt statement. Still, Cid gave his all for his charges, be they warriors or gardeners. This made his exchanges with Clive especially frustrating.
The boy was an advanced case if Cid had ever seen one; eyes down, monosyllabic responses, always two steps behind and to the right of Cid, a good little soldier... And now that the truth of Clive's fiery role in Phoenix Gate had come to light, Cid could see the younger man's gaze grow steadily further and further away.
Jill's regaining consciousness seemed to have had a double-edged effect: on the one hand, Cid saw a spark of something glimmer in Clive's eyes - relief, perhaps - only for it to be replaced with crippling guilt, the likes of which gave Clive's first wave of self-hatred a run for its money. And so, he'd urged Clive to fight through his misery and speak with the girl.
Needless to say, he hadn't expected Clive to step into his solar right after, those big, blue, watery, kicked-puppy-dog-eyes putting a stop to his packing for a short departure. Judging from the strange look in Clive's eyes, Martha's Rest could wait.
"Clive," Cid said carefully. The younger man had simply walked into the solar, no knock, no call out, and now stood a few paces before Cid's desk with every muscle in his body clenched. Cid carefully set down his pack and walked slowly towards the man. "How's your friend?" he asked conversationally.
"...she's fine," Clive replied, his voice barely a whisper. His eyes remained fixed to the ground, staring intensely at nothing.
"That's good," Cid answered. A tense silence followed, though it seemed Cid was the only one to notice. "...and how did it go?" he asked, his voice softening considerably.
Clive sucked in a breath - more like a sob - before answering in a strained voice, "I told her everything."
"...everything, eh?"
He heard the squeeze of leather around Clive's clenching fists. "...everything."
"Well, I'm glad she understood," Cid replied. For surely, she had, as he hadn't heard any shouting from Tarja as she tried to prevent Clive from throwing himself off the balcony.
"Under... stood..." Clive whispered.
Sliding but a hair forward, Cid could finally see just how badly the younger man was shaking, just how faraway his gaze truly was, flicking back and forth as he watch some phantom memory. "Clive," Cid tried, reaching slowly towards the man.
Clive recoiled instantly. This triggered a few fat tears to roll down his cheeks as he shrank away, arms lifting to guard his face. "S-stop... please..." he wheezed out, eyes squeezing shut.
"Oh, Clive," Cid murmured. He slowly lowered his hand and took a couple steps back to ensure Clive didn't feel trapped. "Can you look at me, lad?"
Clive shook his head, eyes still squeezed painfully shut as he started to crouch down, trying to make himself appear smaller. When he took a step back, his heel bumped the corner of Cid's sofa, which startled the man so much he lurched forward to his hands and knees.
The older man jumped forward to catch him on reflex. "Clive!" he called out.
The "imperial slave" before him responded in kind, curling up with his forehead to the ground, arms crisscrossing over his neck to protect it from the memory of a terrible blow. "I'm sorry," he whispered as his breath took off, rushing dangerously in and out of him.
Cid's heart broke for the boy, just as it already had many times over. Kneeling before him, Cid kept his voice as calm as he could. He'd done this several times since absconding from the Waloed. Clive would be no different, even if the weight of his demons would put the average man in the ground. But Cid knew that Clive was strong. He'd seen it firsthand. Clive would pull through. "What's the emergency, Clive? Tell me where the danger is."
The brunet ground his head back and forth against the ground.
"Come now, Clive. You need to tell me what's got you so worked up," Cid continued. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."
Clive shook his head again. "I... c-ca-an't," he squeezed out between his teeth.
"Why not?" Cid prompted, eternally, frustratingly calm.
Small, pathetic whines dripped out of Clive's trembling lips. "I can't... I can't... breathe..." he finally managed.
"Alright, lad, but you're talking with me now, eh? If you can talk, you can smell. If you can smell, you're breathing. What do you smell, Clive?"
The brunet shook his head again, but Cid addressed him with that oddly enduring patience of his. "You spoke before. So, tell me now: what can you smell?"
Amazingly enough, Clive's sniffling became slightly less staccato and more intentional. Through whatever horrors his episode had him enduring, he really was trying. 'Just like a true soldier... A true Shield,' Cid commented internally.
"I... s... smoke," Clive whispered from the floor. His breath shuddered in his chest, his voice cracking with tears. "Smoke... it's burning... It's burning again..."
"What's burning, Clive?"
Slowly pulling his head from the floor, Clive tried to answer, "Fah... Phoenix-"
"You're mixing up your ruins, Clive, for these are the bones of the Fallen... not Rosaria." Cid put his palm flat on the floor before Clive, though kept a respectful distance. "Touch the floor, lad... Look around the room, find the source of the smoke."
Finally, eyes once beset by the demons of his youth looked up and observed the space about him. Cid waited patiently as reality fought against the tides of trauma, treading ever closer to the surface... Until those cerulean eyes found the long, thin trail of blue-grey smoke that curled against the filigreed ceiling, and carefully traced the path to its origin: the final remnants of Cid's cigarillo, which had been abandoned, left to burn itself out the moment Clive had arrived. "...tobacco," he eventually whispered.
"Good boy," Cid murmured. "Tell me more."
Clive complied, clinging to Cid's order as the tether to the present that it was. Looking down at Cid's hand on the floor, Clive mimicked the motion. "...the solar. I'm... in the Hideaway."
"Aye," Cid replied, relaxing back on his haunches. "You're safe, lad. You're with me."
But for all his progress. Clive shook his head still. "No... no, this... I..."
"Did Jill reject you?" Cid suddenly asked. The question was so jarring that Clive's breath froze in his chest and his wide gaze met Cid's. The outlaw kept his own carefully neutral and tried to reason with the man again. "Clive, there is not a single one of us here at the Hideaway that condemns you for what happened that night at Phoenix Gate."
"BUT, I DIDN'T TAKE THE PHOENIX FROM YOU!"
The outburst seemed to rattle the walls around them. Before Cid could even brace, Clive flung himself at the older man, bowling him over so that Clive straddled his middle and shaking fists wrapped themselves up in Cid's collar. "You don't understand!!" Clive cried. Cid flinched on reflex as a hot tear landed on his cheek from above. "It was not your brother I stole away...! I thought... I tried to... to be strong..." He choked on another sob. "But that... that was easy when I didn't have to look into the face of a life I ruined..."
"Clive," Cid said carefully, keeping his arms on the ground, no matter how much he wanted to embrace the man. "You are not the Ironblood. And you did not send a unit of bloodless assassins to slit throats in the night at Phoenix Gate."
"I still murdered my own brother!!"
"You were scared!"
Though his voice remained quiet enough, Clive still felt the urgency in what Cid said. He blinked a few times and his posture relaxed just enough that Cid was able to get his elbows underneath him. Sitting up slightly, he finally allowed himself a dangerous touch of gentle fingers on Clive's tear-stained cheek. "You were a child, Clive... And you were frightened. And understandably so."
Clive's bottom lip quivered as he whispered out a denial. "N-no... No, I... I am... wah---was... a Sh-Shield-"
"And Shields get scared, too, Clive." He swiped away a fresh tear. "Everyone does. Shields, Commanders, lords, and peasants. Adults..." He pushed himself further upright, painfully aware of Clive's chest so close to his while the brunet still seemed completely unaware that he was bestride his mentor, their breath mingling. "...and children," Cid finally finished. "None of us is immune, pet. Not even an old sod like me."
"...what?" Clive whispered. For a split second, Clive's teary eyes flicked down from Cid's to the older man's lips, then back up... Though perhaps Cid imagined it.
"I feel it constantly," Cid admitted quietly. "I fear for the future of our kind, for the continued concealment of the Hideaway, for my daughter's safety, for all our safety..." His other hand drifted up as well, compelled to communicate to Clive in every way possible that he wasn't ready to let the young man go. "But now... I fear for you... Clive..." He cupped Clive's face, stroking his non-branded cheek with a thumb. Despite his best efforts to contain his emotions, they slipped through the cracks in his voice. "I fear what you might do to yourself if you're left alone... if you suspect you are alone... and if your guilt convinces you of such a black and terrible lie:"
"Cid," he hiccupped before wrapping his arms tightly around the older man, sobbing into the crook of his neck. "She... She w- wants to go... go ba-ack... To Phoenix... Ga-ate-"
"And I know you can do it, Clive... In your own time, when you're ready," Cid provided.
Clive wagged his head back and forth, smearing tears and snot on Cid's neck. "I can't. I can't..."
"Clive, look at me, love."
'Whoops,' he thought distantly. 'Too late now...'
He grabbed Clive's face once more. They were so close, Cid could taste the salt of his tears on the air. "You can, Clive. I know it."
"...how?"
'Because I know you,' he wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat. He'd already gone too far, too deep - this fragile, precious man deserved to be worshipped for what he'd accomplished despite his trials. And Cid was wholly unworthy.
"Cid," Clive prompted, staring helplessly into the older man's eyes, desperate for an answer.
Suddenly, it was words that seemed wholly unworthy, and Cid acted on the impulse before he could reason himself out of it. He'd overstepped a boundary, that much was clear, but was it Clive's? Or perhaps his own? With their lips touching, it was impossible to tell.
Clive didn't respond to the kiss right away and Cid could feel those frightened eyes upon him. When he tried to pull away, however, Clive's grip on him returned with a vengeance and he practically assaulted the older man. Cid had been on the receiving end of desperation before, but never like this.
"Clive," he said, finally managing to pull the other man off. He could see the apology on Clive's lips before he said it, and so chased the regret away with a swift follow-up kiss. "It's alright, love... You have time. Remember?" He let their foreheads rest against one another for a moment. "...go get some rest. Think about what you want, what you need.. And we can talk about this..." He paused to run a thumb over Clive's lips. "...later."
The perceived rejection was easy enough to read on Clive's face, which Cid met with a soft, understanding smile. "I only want you to think on things, lad. You're in a lot of pain right now and I would rather we had that conversation when you have a clearer head, hmm?" He stared intently at Clive. "And make no mistake, Clive... It is aconversation I want to have. For both our sakes. Can you promise me that much?"
Slowly, Clive pulled away from Cid. There were still the dregs of rebuke in his eyes, but a reluctant understanding had started to form as well. "I... will try-"
"No," Cid interjected with surprising authority. Clive went rigid in his lap. "You will promise me here and now that you will think properly about what you want, Clive." Then, softer, he added, "don't make me wait on you just to bury you..."
Shame flashed through Clive's eyes, though it was warranted enough, Cid figured. "Alright," the younger man finally replied. "I'll think about... about everything."
"Good boy," Cid answered, finally releasing him. "You have time, lad. I'll be making a run with Goetz for a spell... As soon as you let me up, that is."
In a rather comical turn of events, Clive at last realized just what kind of position they were in - and turned the brightest shade of red Cid had ever seen. "I-I'm sorry!!" he stammered, scrambling off of Cid. He stood in a flurry of black leather and rouge cheeks. "R-right... Right, then... Cid..."
They stared at each other a moment. The flustering warrior was so damnably cute that Cid actually found himself fighting back a smile. But he managed, if only for Clive's dignity.
"...right, I'll... talk to you later, then..."
"Until then, Clive."
"..." The brunet just blinked... then let himself out of the solar in a blushing rush.
Cid allowed himself fall back to his back on the solar floor, wondering just what kind of answer the lad would come to...
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Sometime later...
Was he staring? He was probably staring... And so, he dropped his gaze to the floor in order to look quite serious and pensive, trying to keep from drifting back to the plunging 'V' that cradled Clive's chest. Not that he was complaining; Cid could only imagine how much of a relief it was to finally get out of the clothes issued to him by his slave masters. Despite the unforgiving grip his new leathers had on his body, Clive seemed almost completely unburdened compared to when they last spoke.
If his and Jill's recounting of events was anything to by, they'd found answers during their sojourn to Phoenix Gate. "I know beyond any doubt what my role was in the Night of Flames," Clive had said when they miraculously returned to the Hideaway. "And what I now must do."
Cid was still reeling from the state of Clive's dress and the fact that he and Jill had returned at all when Clive had said that. More than anything, Cid wanted to attribute his newfound conviction to their mission - destroy the Mother Crystals, free the land and her bearers from their chokehold... But the conversation had been cut short by everyone's exhaustion. Jill had done most of the talking anyway, and Clive acted less like an invested revolutionary and more like an escort who had just finished his last job: he'd delivered Jill back to the Hideaway, now there was nothing left to do...
The older man sighed and ran a hand over his weathered face, but managed to nod to the others as they departed the solar for some much needed rest. All except for Clive, whom he stopped with a gentle hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Hold on a mo', lad. I'd like to ask you more about your trip to Phoenix Gate."
"What more is there to say?" Clive retorted, though his voice sounded genuinely curious as opposed to obstinate.
"How about everything?" Cid countered. He crossed his arms and carefully observed the other man's body. Language. Body language. "Seems you've had yourself quite the revelation... I'm curious how the ruins helped you find the answers you were looking for."
"The answers I was looking for," Clive repeated quietly. His gaze slanted away from Cid as a small, horribly sad smile appeared on his face. "You can ask Jill if you don't believe me, Cid, but there was no grand reveal or brilliant fanfare... You told me once that it was a good chance I killed the Phoenix." He paused to turn that heartbreaking smile on Cid. "Turns out you were right. And I've accepted that."
"You came back all this way to tell me I was right, then?"
Clive shrugged, but followed up with a shake of his head. "Jill wanted to return to hear what you had to say. About your master plan."
"And you?" Cid asked, his voice dropping in volume considerably. When Clive didn't immediately answer, he reached out a second time to rest his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You promised me a conversation, after all..." It felt a bit self-serving to bring it up, especially so soon after their return, but-
"No," Clive answered, shocking Cid so much that he retracted his hand. Something dark flickered in those fathomless eyes, as dark as an untouched forest and holding just as many horrifying secrets... until it was paved over with the same eerie calm Clive had been fronting all day. "I promised you I would think about things. And I have." He smiled at his mentor, but the expression was empty. "Thank you, Cid... It was a good idea."
"I told you to think when you had a clearer head," Cid countered. All the softness was gone from his voice, though he tried to keep his anger from showing through it. "And did you do that?"
"...my head has never been clearer," Clive replied, albeit more demurely than he'd been when speaking before. "I've thought about it all, about myself, Jill... about Joshua..." He swallowed audibly, eyes unable to meet Cid's. "...you. "
"And what was this grand revelation, eh?"
He could see the clench in Clive's jaw, the urge to runaway... "That I know what I am. That... That I see my life, my past... And I know that I can no longer deny it."
"And what about now?" Cid asked. "What... what about your future?"
The silence stretched between them, bloated with malignant intent. Clive countered it by mustering one more smile. "Thank you, Cid," he said. It was obvious he was trying not to let his voice crack. "For everything."
"Clive-"
"Good night, Cid," the younger man stated with every sense of finality. He turned and hurried out of the solar, leaving his mentor behind, stunned into immobility. Several seconds passed this way, Cid's hand reaching out to the empty space... before the ache in his chest settled into his stomach like a stone, far worse than any lithified patch of skin or calcified organ wrought by the Crystal Curse. Slowly, he let his hand drop uselessly to his side.
"Oh, Clive..." he murmured to the vacant room. "Don't do this..."
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It was cold, but at least the wind wasn't blowing. Any other night and Cid would be chain smoking his worries away in the brisk twilight. Not this night, however. He couldn't risk being detected. And while he was confident enough in his ability to remain obscured in the dark hollows of the rocks at the mouth of the Hideaway, he was not so foolish to think a trained warrior like Clive wouldn't smell his tobacco. Should the young Dominant try to sneak away in the middle of the night, that was.
For all his nicotine fiending, however, Cid was glad he refrained, for the soft, unmistakable crunch of armor-clad feet was soon heard. Staring carefully at the shadows, Cid watched Clive emerge from the cave, still looking as fine a man as ever in his new garb... But it was the vacant expression on the younger man's face that Cid found himself staring at. If he hadn't known any better, he would have taken Clive for a sleepwalker.
But it was not a dream that piloted the warrior so mechanically away from the shelter of the Hideaway; it was a nightmare. A waking one that Clive seemed convinced he couldn't escape. Cid would have let his wallowing pass, but this was no midnight stroll to clear his head. Why else would Clive leave without Torgal?
He could feel his earlier anger return, followed by an ache in his chest he was all too familiar with - one he'd hoped he'd negated with his time and words spent on Clive. But it seemed he had failed thus far. Not his speeches nor Jill's acceptance seemed to be enough. Clive seemed to have made up his mind, the rest of the world be damned.
Anger intensifying, Cid waited until Clive was far enough ahead to avoid detecting his mentor, before Cid pushed himself from the rocks and quietly gave chase.
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Clive let his feet guide him, and it turned out to be the right decision.
Many of the paths through the wood were still clear of antagonistic creatures thanks to his and Cid's earlier clear-cutting on their way to meet Gav. Clive exhaled in what was likely meant to be a laugh. Of course the paths were empty. That had hardly been a week ago... But it already felt like ancient history to Clive. Perhaps that was thanks to the fatigue that had settled so very deep into his body. But that was no matter, he'd be free of it all soon enough. They'd all be free of him soon enough...
His only regret, he realized as he gathered up the edge of his cape to step through some branches, was that he would sully the fine clothes Lady Hanna had gifted him. His father's clothes... The clothes of a proud and noble man. Clothes Clive did not deserve.
It would have felt more fitting to go in his soldier uniform, so thoroughly looking the part of the villain that he was. It was a shame he hadn't thought to bring the armor back with him, but then again, he'd been beside himself with anger and heartbreak over the massacre his mother had unleashed upon Eastpool.
"Just another of my sins," he mumbled as he crossed a familiar bridge.
He was almost surprised that his automatic walking carried himself right on past the point he'd once considered throwing himself from. Clearly, his body had a different destination in mind. This location slowly became clear to Clive as he progressed and he nodded to himself, as if giving his feet his blessing to keep carrying him there...
...to his death place.
The bodies in Eastpool, the bodies of those he assassinated for the Empire, the bodies in the ruins of Phoenix Gate... All of them could have been prevented if there was just one body, one tiny, frail, precious body that he had not made. To think of all the bodies he would prevent himself from making in the future by finally atoning for all that carnage...
Finally, the cliffs beside the waterfall came into view. It was stunning. The roar of the water was gentle and constant, pillowing the night air with its soothing sound. From the center of the clearing, he could still make out the scarring in the earth from the scuffle between him, Cid, and the Imperials, though whatever wildlife lived in the area had long since absconded with the bodies. Clive admittedly didn't feel so much guilt about those ones. Then again, Gav never would have been in trouble to begin with if not for him. He sighed at the thought, then continued to the cliff's edge.
Stars sang brilliantly in the sky above him, the entire sparkling canopy on full display thanks to the cold, cloudless night. It was as if the universe itself was turning down a bed for him, as if it wanted to somehow ease his passing. Clive certainly did not deserve such a serene end, but he wasn't too proud to be thankful for the setting.
Walking to the precipice, Clive stared down at the dark, foamy waters below. Subconsciously, his hand trailed to the thin short-sword strapped to left hip; he'd left his father's sword behind, keen enough not to deny the Hideaway of its use. Or, at the very least, Lady Charon of its profit potential. But he'd need at least one blade to do what needed to be done. He wanted to be closer to death than to life before he hit the water, at the very least. Without even realizing it, he'd drawn the blade out of its holster.
"It's a pretty enough night to die, I suppose."
Clive coiled up instinctively, whirling around to point his short-sword at the unexpected voice, body crouched and ready to fight. He'd been so lost in thought, and believed himself to be alone, that he hardly even recognized the older Dominant as he stepped into the moonlit clearing. "...Cid?" he asked in disbelief.
"I can't decide if your choice of location is poetic," Cid said with a put-upon sigh, "or just cruel."
Smoke practically funneled out of Clive's head as he tried to understand what was happening. Cid waited patiently, though his expression was as hard as Clive had seen it be towards any of their foes. "You... you followed me..."
"Noticed that, did you?" Cid asked, his voice a caustic sting to Clive's ears.
"...why?" he couldn't help but ask. This couldn't be happening... Cid wasn't supposed to be here... His mind was just playing tricks on him...!!
"Why?" Cid barked out, making his anger clear.
When he took a step towards Clive however, everything came crashing into place, his mind finally catching up with his body. "Stay back!!" he shouted, bringing the edge of his sword to his throat.
Cid froze in place, but his eyes never lost the rage that burned within them. "That would be why," he replied. "You are many things, Clive Rosfield, but in all my days I would have never considered you a coward."
"Shut up," the younger man whispered. He could feel his hand starting to shake.
"So, I had to come see it for myself," Cid continued. "...and so here we are."
"You don't understand," Clive said breathlessly. "This... this is how I atone. How I put an end to the misery I have sown...!"
"Misery begets yet more misery," Cid grumbled. "Or did you conveniently forget about those who are waiting for you back at the Hideaway? What of Jill? Gav? Your own bloody hound?''
Clive shook his head just enough that the tiniest slit of red appeared on his neck. Not enough to do real damage, but enough for a thin string of red to drip down the hollow of his throat and vanish into the 'V' of his chest. When Cid tried to step forward again, Clive took a dangerous step back, successfully halting the older man's movement. "They will understand," he whispered deliriously. "Once they see what it is like to finally be unburdened of me, they will see..."
"And what of me?" Cid's eyes narrowed, his brows practically meeting in the middle. "Jill and Torgal notwithstanding, I certainly never asked to be unburdened of you."
Clive stared unblinkingly at his mentor, a mad look in those frightened eyes. "You'll see, just the same," he answered. "I refuse to be a harbinger of death a moment longer."
Cid's face remained unchanged by Clive's words, though it was clear from his tone that he was growing even more impossibly angry with Clive by the second. "...you once told me, Clive, that the only reason you were here was because of your brother."
Without meaning to, Clive's body went rigid at the mention of Joshua. "...don't," he whispered, but Cid didn't listen.
"Is this how you will repay him? By throwing your life away?"
"Stop it!!" he shouted. Hot tears formed in his eyes, but he tried to keep them from falling.
"You truly believe that this is what he wanted? What he sacrificed himself for?"
"He didn't sacrifice himself, he was murdered!!" Clive practically screamed. A few renegade tears made their escape down his cheeks in the outburst. "Murdered by me! His own brother! His Shield!"
Cid's scowl darkened. "Then Joshua Rosfield must have been a cruel master indeed... One who does not deserve the pain you feel at his loss."
At these truly outrageous words, Clive's jaw fell open and he nearly forgot himself. "Slander..." he whispered. Then, stronger with his anger, he said, "Joshua was noble and pure and deserved to live!!"
"How noble could he be to make his First Shield want to take his own life?"
"No, he-" Clive gritted his teeth. "He didn't- wouldn't-"
"He wouldn't want this?" Cid prompted.
Clive yelled in frustration. "That's not what this is about!!"
"Is it not?" Cid asked. "Clearly he was no better a master than your Imperial ones, if he would demand the head of a fifteen year-old boy too scared to know what he was doing!!"
"STOP! STOP IT!!" Clive screamed again, squeezing his eyes shut to the unshakeable logic.
Cid immediately took advantage. Closing the space between them in a flash of levin, he seized the sword from Clive's grip and flung down to the murky water at the cliff's base.
"NOOOO!!!" Clive roared as he lunged for it. Cid grappled with him, pulling the thrashing, wailing man away from the edge.
The wrestling that ensued was violent. While Cid had managed to drag Clive down into the clearing, he was no match for the younger man's strength and stamina - especially when Clive quit fighting for the cliff and instead starting fighting Cid. No matter how hard the Outlaw struggled, it was only a matter of time before Clive had him pinned to the damp earth, hands around his throat as he wept angrily overhead.
Cid relaxed completely into his hold. "Go on, Clive," he rasped. "You'll... have to..." And then, he managed to bring his weakened arms up, hands touching Clive's face. "If you want... to die... then you'll... you'll just have to... kill me, too... love."
Once again, Clive's world came crashing down around him and time came to a screaming halt.
The second his grip loosened, Cid was upright and wrapping him in the tightest hug he had ever felt. "...I won't let you go that easily," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please... I'm begging you.
Clive was still, the display of emotion and the depth of words from his mentor nearly putting him into a state of shock.
Cid somehow held him even tighter. "Please, don't take you away from me..."
The sound of rushing water replaced the sound of rushing blood in Clive's ears. First, his lip quivered. And then, his traitorous, shaking hands slowly rose... until he found himself clutching Cid so strongly he heard the older man wheeze.
"...it hurts," Clive whispered brokenly. "It hurts s-so much..."
"I know, love," Cid replied as he stroked Clive's back. "I know it does..."
Clive tried to speak again, only for his breath to catch and cause him to start hyperventilating.
"Shh... It's okay, Clive. I've got you... Just breathe. Breathe with me."
It took considerable time, but Cid was able to help the younger man through his gulping, panicked breaths until he was breathing a bit more safely. At least, Cid figured he could stand without passing out. Still holding the distraught man, Cid asked, "will you come back to the Hideaway with me? We can get you cleaned up in my solar... Can you do that for me, love? Walk with me?"
There was a long pause before Cid eventually heard a murmured, "...alright..."
And so, he stood them both up, waiting for Clive to steady himself before departing, their hands never separating.
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The walk back was slow, but that was never an issue. All the while, Cid kept his hand tightly around Clive's, leading the stricken man home to the Hideaway one sluggish, trembling step at a time. More than once, he'd feel his arm come to a sudden halt and he'd look back to see Clive had slid to a stop, his wide eyes staring at the lifeless Deadlands dirt at his feet as tears fell to its sooty surface. Such was all that remained of their life-or-death ordeal only moments earlier - tear tracks and footprints in the ashen earth...
After letting the man stand there for a moment, Cid would eventually give him a gentle tug and, sure enough, he'd jilt forward and start his trek again. Sometimes, Cid didn't even have to prompt him and Clive would resume all on his own, though the best he could manage was stepping closer to Cid. In the end, the journey back took nearly three times as long as it did on the way out, and Cid was grateful for the calm winds and creature-less night that left them unimpeded.
Dawn was just beginning to crack open its eye from behind barren, mountainous lids when they passed the cave threshold. Just as Cid had instructed her, Tarja was waiting beside Charon's stall, ready to administer any medical attention that might've been needed should Cid have returned with Clive in worse shape than he already was. If that was even possible. Beside her stood Jill, who covered a quiet gasp with her gloved, slender hands as the two men walked past. When Tarja stood to meet them, Cid gave her a short shake of his head. Clive didn't even notice the women waiting for them.
Tarja raised her brow at the older man, but nodded and stepped back to give them some space. Jill exchanged a troubled look with all of them, but also kept her distance. Cid knew that Tarja would fill her in, had she not already, and so offered a small, apologetic tilt of his head before leading Clive towards and up the stairs. Already, a few of the early risers were starting to mill about the Hideaway, though they kept their heads down respectfully, allowing Clive some modicum of privacy despite being paraded across the main hall with his hand tightly clutching Cid's. The older Dominant was grateful - and a little more than moved by their decorum.
He made a mental note to thank them all personally later, for there were more important matters to attend to at that moment. Finally stepping into the solar, he closed and locked the door behind Clive to ensure they would not be disturbed. Despite Cid's sudden relaxed grip and sidestep, Clive never released his hand.
Cid looked down at the trembling fingers, then back up to the vacant face of the younger man. "...Clive, pet," he said gently. He led Clive to the edge of his bed, where he slowly sat the man down. "I need to go get some water-" Immediately, the grip on his hand tightened, though Clive's face remained empty. Unreadable. Cid sighed helplessly and knelt down before his charge to try and catch his eye. "I'm not going anywhere, love," he rumbled, reaching up with his free hand to cup Clive's cheek. To his surprise, Clive leaned into it, even though his expression was oh so far away...
Using his free hand, Cid carefully pried his other one free of Clive's clutches. "I'm not even leaving the room, Clive. There's a basin just over there. You can watch me if you like?" He gently grabbed Clive's chin, manipulating the man's head upright ever so slightly. And finally, those red-rimmed eyes slowly lifted from whatever shadow they'd been staring into to stare at Cid. Hopeless, helpless, yearning, wanting... "...poor, sweet thing," Cid murmured, holding Clive's chin for a moment longer before finally making good on his word. It was easy enough to feel Clive's gaze on him as he moved to the far side of the solar and grabbed a small tub of distilled water. Setting it on the floor at Clive's feet, he let his good hand dip just below the surface, where he gave the water a single, mighty zap!
Clive jumped considerably at the sound, a child-like whimper slipping past his lips. "Oi, oi, oi, love. What's this, now?" Cid asked. His hands were on Clive's face again in an instant. "I'm sorry, lad. I didn't mean to startle you; I was only heating the water. You're alright." He ran his thumbs beneath Clive's eyes, stealing away any tears that might fall there before they had a chance to stain his cheeks. He'd seemed to head the panic attack off at the pass, for Clive's increased breathing began to relax immediately. "There you are. Now, we need to get these dirty clothes off you... Can you?" he asked, but he had a feeling he knew the answer before Clive started to lower his head, a shamed expression on his face.
"...would you like me to help?" Cid asked.
"...please," Clive whispered. Cid hadn't expected him to speak, but quickly overcame his surprise at the raspy word, so shredded with pain, and nodded.
"Alright, love. Just hold still, then."
To be fair, this was not how Cid had imagined undressing Clive in all his wildest, traitorous fantasies. In fact, such fantasies were so far removed from what was happening that he went about his task of disrobing the younger man with an almost clinical air, as if he was no more than an aide at Tarja's side as he helped her prepare to dress a wounded man... It was much the same, he decided, only Tarja wasn't there to direct him. This was all Cid. And all Clive. And there was much of that to appreciate, if only later.
Piece by piece, Clive's leathers fell away, revealing the chafed, bruising skin beneath. As he was steadily exposed to the air, he began to shiver - a curious thing, for Cid figured that Clive had never felt the cold a day in his life. At least, not since receiving the Phoenix's blessing. To help, when he pulled Clive's hands free of his gloves, he immediately brought those shaking hands to his mouth, where he huffed out warm breath onto Clive's skin. The younger man gasped and Cid looked up in concern, but found Clive staring at his own hands, as if in awe at such a simple gesture.
Cid couldn't help but crack a small smile and repeated the gesture before brushing a quick kiss to Clive's knuckles. He ignored the second sharp inhale that time, and set about wetting a rag in the warm water, then started to run it carefully across Clive's skin. Slowly, blood, dirt, and grime came off the scarred surface of his knuckles, gathering in the basin at his feet. Cid continued his efforts, running the rag up Clive's arms, then his shoulders, only to give the slightest pause at the dried blood flaking around the nick on his neck.
"...it might sting, love," he warned before swiping the cloth over the wound. Clive shocked him yet again, this time with a tilt of his head and an almost satisfied sigh, his eyes fluttering shut as the ichor was washed from his skin. Cid cleared his throat and tried not to examine his reaction to that too deeply.
Though it seemed Clive had a different idea. Or, more like, he had no idea what he was doing when his body tightened considerably as Cid ran the cloth over his chest, his hand reaching up to grasp Cid's. Both men froze for a moment, staring at the other as steam rose from the basin and caressed their weathered faces...
"Cid," Clive breathed, his voice struggling to get free. There were new tears forming in his eyes. "Cid, I... I'm sorry..."
Cid never wanted Clive to cry again, for the man had shed enough tears in his lifetime for the world over. "Oh, Clive," he whispered, his hand finding Clive's cheek again. The brunet leaned into his touch, unmindful of his own sniffling and splattering tears. "...I forgive you."
At those words, Clive met Cid's eyes with the full clarity of his gaze. Had no one ever told him that before, Cid wondered as he stared back, desperate to make Clive see - no, feel - the depths of his... his...
"...love?" he prompted when Clive hadn't budged.
"...do you mean it?" Clive asked, his voice so terribly broken, but something else glimmering around its edges. Cid chose to believe it was something akin to hope.
"Of course, Clive... So long as you promise me now... That you will never do that again. Can you do that? Can you promise me that?" When Clive stuttered, unable to answer him straightaway, Cid added, "please... the Curse notwithstanding..." He turned a sad smile up to the younger man. "I'm not sure I could survive losing you to yourself." His smile grew somehow brighter and sadder at the same time. "I will have well and truly failed should that come to pass."
He could see the apology on Clive's lips before he said it, and so... like a moth to the Phoenix's flame, Cid tilted up to kiss it away.
Clive returned the kiss right away, followed by a sob that burst across Cid's lips milliseconds before Clive wrapped his mentor in his trembling arms. Abandoning his job of cleaning Clive up to sit on the bed beside him, Cid held his shaking charge in his arms as tightly as he could and ran warm, rough hands up and down Clive's bare spine. "Shh... Hush, now, Clive... There's no emergency, remember? You're with me in my solar. You're safe."
"Then why," the younger man choked out. "Why can't I stop feeling this way!?"
Cid pulled back so he could grab Clive's face, forcing him to look straight into Cid's very serious one. "Because you're sad, love... And you're hurting. And as much as I wish I could take that from you, I cannot... But I can help you through it. Jill, Torgal, everyone else here... We will all help you through it, understand me?"
"...what if it doesn't work?" Clive whispered, betraying his true fears.
It was a good question. After all, what more could Cid say if, after all was said and done, Clive never recovered that piece of himself that Ifrit had decided to so selfishly swallow up?
Cid chuckled almost helplessly at Clive. "Well, I'd say you have to let us try, first."
"Let you try..."
"Aye," Cid answered. "Shall we try?"
Clive nodded... before leaning forward to press his lips to Cid's once more. The older man allowed it for a moment, but when he felt Clive's body shift closer to him, he pulled back. "Remember what I said, love? About thinking about things with a clearer head?"
And Clive nodded a second time. "I've... I've tried... but the only time I... The only time I can stop thinking about... about..." He looked away for a moment, his face once more betraying the guilt he felt so deep inside. "Is when I'm... with you... here... like this..." he admitted. Once again turning those big wet eyes on Cid, silently pleading, he leaned forward towards his mentor. "If... if I let you try... Then I want to... to try, too... Please..."
Perhaps that was the best Cid could expect from someone as emotionally compromised as Clive. At the very least, he couldn't begrudge the younger man for his affections. After all, Cid had kissed him first. Damnit. "...if you're sure, pet," he finally acquiesced.
Clive responded by surging forward to wrap Cid up in the hungriest of kisses. The old Dominant nearly fell off the bed from the force of it, but he quickly regained his composure before returning the kiss in kind. Clive's desperation was... intoxicating... And he soon found himself pressing back with just as much strength as his charge... until Clive was on the bed, flat on his back, his bare chest arching up into Cid's.
As much as Cid wanted to ask again - and again, and again, and again - if Clive was sure about this, he found each inquiry burned away before he could speak it, consumed by the force of Clive's pent-up emotions. The brunet had started crying again at some point, but his attack only intensified. His hands, now sturdier than they'd been in weeks, slipped beneath Cid's jacket to paw at the skin beneath, blunt nails bouncing off stony flesh... Cid obliged his silent request and reeled backward for only a moment, just to remove the offending piece of clothing. Clive rose up to meet him before his arms were fully free, demanding yet more kisses from his smoky lips.
"Cid," the younger man whispered, the name repeated like a secret mantra on his lips over and over again as he drank in every bit of emotional support and intimate expression Cid had to offer. And when the space between them was too much to bear, Clive pulled Cid against him as if he could crawl into his mentor's skin as stay within the safe confines thereof. If only he knew that he'd already found purchase there, long ago, occupying nearly every cell in Cid's body, nearly every thought; a frustrating distraction turned into a passionate obsession...
"Cid," he said again, pausing his assault for the first time to stare up at the older man. Finally able to catch their breaths, it was then Cid realized just how firm he was - how firm Clive was - their groins pressed tightly together. Clive bent his leg to hook it around one of Cid's and the motion sent a levin-jealous jolt through Cid's body. Clive seemed to feel it, too, for his lips parted to emit a small whine.
"...is this what you want, love?" Cid finally asked, as if it wasn't already painfully obvious. Then, allowing himself a playful moment, a welcome break from all the misery... he smirked and rolled his hips just a hair... only for Clive to release a most delicious groan. Cid decided then and there that so long as Clive was with him, the young warrior would never again bemoan his existence, and only moan for ecstasy.
Cid kissed Clive again, this time licking at those moaning lips, asking for entry, which was easily granted. While distracting the younger man with his tongue, he lifted himself slightly away from Clive's body; just enough to slip a hand down the perfectly balanced musculature of Clive's midsection and tug at the strings of his trousers. Impatient as ever, Clive whined into his mouth and bucked up against the lost space, but was so quelled when Cid's hand dipped in and grabbed his length firmly. Cid thought he heard Clive gasp his name yet again - that would certainly never grow old - but the brunet was soon reduced to a garbling mess as Cid stroked him.
It didn't take long for Clive to remember himself and he soon was clawing at the waistband of Cid's pants. Sighing and shaking his head, as if dealing with a petulant child, which he wagered wasn't too far off, Cid pulled away from Clive completely. The younger man's eyes flew open, full of fear, perhaps thinking he'd pushed his mentor too far... Only for Cid to smirk and slide back to get better access to the legs of Clive's trousers. "Patience, pet... I said I'd help you, didn't I?" Grabbing the cuffs of Clive's pants, Cid made quick work of them, shucking them off shapely legs and tossing them aside, the garment landing half in the bucket of still-steaming water.
Fully exposed before the older man, a dark blush finally bloomed onto Clive's cheeks. Cid smiled, a hand slipping up Clive's torso as he resituated himself closer again, his palm coming to a rest at Clive's neck. "...Cid," he said urgently.
"So much for patience," Cid rumbled, reaching off towards his nightstand. Clive tried to follow the movement, but was quickly distracted by Cid resuming his long, teasing strokes of Clive's cock. Between smearing his thumb across the leaking tip to slipping down to fondle his balls, Clive was soon nothing more than a writhing, moaning wreck beneath the older man. So overcome was the warrior with Cid's ministrations that he almost missed the slicked finger sliding up against his entrance, doing nothing more than rubbing small, soothing circles around the muscle. "...Clive," he murmured.
"Cid... Please..." Clive whined.
And so, Cid obliged and pressed his calloused finger in. Clive's response was immediate and he cried mutedly at the intrusion. Cid went to work finding the nerve bundle within, eager to bring about Clive's pleasure before his own. A moment of twisting and prodding later, and fresh tears rained from ocean-blue eyes as he fought back the wail of pleasure, his back arching dramatically. Burying his nose in Clive's neck, Cid immediately inserted a second finger and alternated between stretching the tissue and prodding Clive's prostate, all to the chorus of moans and cries as pain and pleasure warred within the overburdened man.
It wasn't long until he was ready... and with a strangled, "wait!!" Cid finally paused. "Wuh... wait... please... Cid..." the younger man gasped. His chest heaved as he stared at the ceiling, tears braiding his lashes together as he fought to regain his self-control before he went over... Until he finally met Cid's burning gaze. Reaching for the older man, he wrapped his arms around Cid's shoulders and pulled him in for another deep, hopelessly needy kiss. While he did, Cid pulled his fingers free so as to pull himself free, slick digits sliding up and down his own leaking length. Clive whined at the loss, but managed to keep himself occupied with Cid's lips...
Until he felt the bump of Cid's 'head' against his backside. He couldn't help but gasp, his eyes getting wide once more in anticipation. But Cid hushed him with a gentle click of his tongue and a sweet kiss to his cheek. "I told you... you're safe, love... Safe with me."
"Cid..."
Slowly, Cid guided himself into the quivering man beneath him. Clive reacted with the most beautiful cacophony of gasps and cries, clenching and twisting in the sheets as if in the throes of a nightmare. Only this time, Clive was no longer the unwitting beast of some nightmare's burden. Nor the sleepwalking afflicted. This time, it was the throes of pleasure that beset him. And Cid was glad of it, eagerly seating himself within Clive before withdrawing, and then fully pressing in a second time. Clive curled beneath him, his knees splayed apart as he hooked his legs behind Cid. "Duh... deep... deeper..." he wheezed, somehow asking for more when he looked like he'd already had too much...
"As you wish," Cid replied, leaning fully into his charge, folding the man in half.
Due to the early hour, Clive did his best to swallow his cries, as that paired with the gentle smack of wood against the wall might have made abundantly clear to anyone who approached the door - or the hallway - of the solar just what was occurring within. Cid felt it was too bad, for he'd found himself deriving strength from those lovely little sounds, like Martelle's trees from the sun... but he'd take what he could get at this point. If it was this or collect Clive's body downstream in bloody pieces, he'd take these muffled whimpers any day.
Without warning, Clive clenched around him. "Ci-!" he tried to warn, but was soon spurting hot gobs of seed across his own stomach. Cid drove into Clive with renewed effort, fucking him through the shuddering orgasm to the point where Clive's eyes started to roll back into his skull. Without further ado, Cid bit down on Clive's clavicle, mouthing the man's name around the taut flesh before exploding within him, painting his insides.
At long last, they were spent. Both men were panting, though Cid's body was now the one trembling. Finally reaching the point of his own exhaustion, he shifted to the side so he could at least collapse without crushing Clive - only to have the brunet suddenly cling to him as tight as he had in the clearing by the river. "Don't go..." he whispered, hot tears on Cid's neck once more.
The older man chuckled. "Come on, lad..."
"No..." He murmured petulantly. Cid sighed, but easily caved to the demands and let himself fall bonelessly onto his young lover. Neither seemed to mind the seed sticking to their bellies, gluing them together.
Some time passed this way. Before too long, they were breathing normally again and Clive had taken to mindlessly running the edge of his fingernail against the back seam of Cid's trousers, which were still halfway on. Cid was busy inhaling the sweaty, sooty scent of Clive's hair as it tickled his nose... only to suddenly snort a laugh.
"...what is it?" Clive asked, almost as if he should be embarrassed about something.
"...here I was trying to clean you up," Cid mused. He'd long ago gone soft inside Clive, trapping his spend within as well as keeping them locked together in their moment of passion.
"...you can try again," Clive eventually replied. "I promised to let you, after all..."
The response was so serious that Cid couldn't help but burst into laughter. Clive's head whipped around to stare at him incredulously, but Cid disarmed the attack with a precision kiss softly pressed to Clive's lips, just as a ray of rainbowy morning light slipped through a crack in the wall. "...that you did, love," he replied, smiling happily. "That you did..."