[personal profile] clandestine_terrors
Title: Torn
Author: [livejournal.com profile] sphinxofthenile  
Fandom: FFVII - Advent Children
Pairing: Yazoo/Kadaj
Rating: PG
Warning: angst
Summary: How can they blame us?
A/N: They are just as much the victims as they are the villains.


He stares at me with huge, clear emerald eyes as his mind is flooded with the memories of what he had done, the Mako orbs filling up with regret and realisation, with fear and disbelief. I feel tears stinging my eyes, burning to be shed, and I hold him closer, stroking his silky silver hair, restraining my body from shaking.
My beautiful child prince, so tormented, so torn…
Sometimes, his mind is clear, and he looks at me with such pained, innocent eyes that don’t hold the slightest resemblance to his usual depraved glare.
"I didn’t want to hurt him, Yazoo.” His eyes are pleading me to believe him. His skin is so soft under the tip of my fingers, like that of a newborn baby, and I fight back sobs that threaten to shatter my self-control.
So little, so young…
And yet he had endured so much, so much… And he lives. Lives to stare at me with his cat-like irises, a constant reminder of the humanity we had been robbed of.
"Hush, Kadaj. I know you didn’t. You wouldn’t. I know.”
It’s no lie, and I repeat it like a magic chant, rocking his body in my arms.
I know, I know, I know.
I know he would never hurt anyone. He is such a sweet little child, a confused child. It’s all their doing, their fault. They made him do such awful things, just like they did with Him, hurting him, using him, tormenting him…
They call Him the Nightmare… they left him alone when he needed them, they watched as he lost himself, they turned away when he felt his sanity slip away, they closed their eyes to his suffering... And when they realised what they’d done, it was too late.
He was lost. Forsaken. Alone.
They made us. Made us to fight, to kill, to obey their commands and they tought us how to be cruel, cold, efficient. Did they teach us mercy? Did they teach us forgiveness? Did they teach us compassion? No. No. And again, no.
I look down at the small form in my arms, so confused, so frightened, so sad… I breathe in his scent that is so undeniably him and reminds me of summer grass, snow and wind; and I hold him close, and kiss him until all his tears and sobs are gone.