Skywalkers

Skywalkers

Description: Leon was used to living alone and going through the motions of his easy but dull life. Then, one night, a strange blond crashed into his bushes from out of nowhere, and he was drawn into a world no human ever dreamed of. AU, LeonxCloud, SoraxKairi.

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts, FFVII, FFVIII - they're all not mine. They belong to Square-Enix, the company with the bishie manufacturing plant. Now if I could only find the key to it ...

Warnings: Male/male love, lemon/lime, strong language, adult themes including rape and abuse.

A/N: This fic is dedicated to Katnoelle. For all the support and comments you've given me. Thank you.


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1: Fallen Angel

"Her heart fluttered against her chest like some wild bird as he moved in towards her. She could scarcely draw breath; his eyes stole the very air from the sky. She laid a trembling hand against her heaving breast and desperately tried to look away from those smoldering eyes.

"'Pietro, we can't!' she protested as his fiery lips descended upon the white column of her throat. 'My father! If he finds out …'

"'I don't care,' Pietro whispered against her alabaster skin. 'Too long have I been forced to look at you from afar. Tonight, fair Alexandra, I will make you mine!'

"Alexandra gasped as he roughly drew her body to his. She could feel his manhood throbbing with need against her leg, and she could feel her own core beginning to burn as well. As he lifted her chin to claim her cherry lips, she …"

… ring ring! … ring ring! …

Leon sighed and pushed away from the computer so that he could check the Caller ID on the phone. Although he welcomed a distraction from the drivel he was churning out for his editor, if the person on the other end was said editor, there was no way he would answer it. Thankfully, the screen showed a different and far more pleasant number.

He lifted the receiver to his ear and hit the accept button. "Yeah?"

"Squall! How's my favorite big brother?"

Leon smiled at the energy that was always present in Sora's voice. "I'm your only brother, you idiot," he remarked. He relaxed into his chair and let the tension from producing substandard writing drain away. Somehow Sora always knew the best time to call.

The young man on the other end laughed at his comment. "Yeah, well, you're still my favorite. Oh, hey! Kairi and I were watching this cartoon the other day, and one of the characters really reminded me of you! He was this young, sexy romance novelist, and I was all like, 'Hey, that's my brother!' Except then he started screwing this bubbly, hyperactive guy, and it didn't work anymore. I mean, you wouldn't be caught dead with this guy, no matter how cute and girly he was. I picture you with someone more mature, you know. If you were to start screwing guys, that is."

Leon had listened patiently through this entire speech - he was used to Sora going off for long periods of time on random subjects - but when the younger man paused for breath, he jumped in. "Sora, you're rambling."

"Oh, am I?" The innocence in his voice was overwhelming.

"Yes."

"Yeah, well, I thought it was neat. You in cartoon form. Except blond."

Sighing a bit, Leon tried to get more comfortable in his work chair. The damn thing needed a reclining lever or something. "That's a pretty adult cartoon if there's gay sex involved."

"I guess," Sora conceded. "It was awfully funny, although I didn't get half the jokes since they were Japanese puns."

"Wait, Japanese? So it was an anime?"

"Um, yeah. I think that's what Kairi called it."

Leon reached out to his computer and idly booted up Solitaire. "Then you'd better not call it a 'cartoon' ever again," he commented. "You might get lynched."

"Really? I'll keep that in mind. Oh! -"

Leon resisted the urge to snort in amusement. Whenever Sora said 'Oh!' it meant he was about to seize the conversation and throw it in a different direction. At least he had the decency to vocally announce his U-turns; following the young man's train of thought was difficult enough as it was without the constant switching of tracks.

"- Kairi wanted me to tell you that she wants a complimentary signed copy of your next book."

"Tell her I'll sign it, but she has to buy it like everyone else."

"You're so mean," Sora griped, and Leon could perfectly visualize the pout that must have accompanied it. "How's it coming, by the way?"

"That's an interesting way to inquire about a romance novel."

"Oh, shut up. How's the work going on it, then?"

"Fine."

"Breasts heaving yet?"

"Yes."

"Manhoods throbbing?"

"Yes."

"So, in other words, you're just about ready to shoot yourself from disgust."

Leon allowed another smile to take over his face. "You know me too well."

"Yeah, I do." Sora's voice faded away, and Leon sat up straighter in concern. Something in his brother's voice had set off alarms in his head. He somehow knew exactly what was coming. "But what I don't understand is why you keep writing them when you hate them so much."

Oh Lord, not this conversation again. He closed down the card game and, leaning onto his knees, lifted a hand to rub at his forehead. "You know why, Sora," he replied. "It's good money. Plus, she thought I'd be good at it. She said I had talent."

"You have talent!" Sora argued, just as Leon knew he would. "Which is why you should be writing meaningful stuff. You shouldn't be wasting it on stupid romance novels."

"Those stupid romance novels paid the down payment on your new car, I'd like you to know."

"Oh, shut up. I'd give up the car, and you know it. The point is you're wasting your life away. You're stuck in a rut, Squall." Sora took a moment for a breath, and Leon braced himself for the next question. "Have you gone out with anyone since the last time I called?"

Leon had leaned back again, and now he sank as deeply into the chair as the thing would allow. He was greatly regretting picking up the phone. "No," he admitted in a low voice.

"Have you gone out at all? And I don't mean to the grocery store or something. I mean a movie or a club or something fun."

"No."

"Are you trying to get me to come up there and kick your ass?"

"Look, Sora …" Leon sighed and rubbed his forehead again. Why couldn't the other just let this go? "… I appreciate your concern for me. I really do. But you just … you just don't understand. You can't understand, and I really hope you never will." He paused, allowing the pain to pass before he continued. "I don't want to go out. I don't want to look for someone else. I just …" His eyes moved on their own accord to the golden circle on his left hand. "I just want to be here, doing what I'm doing, and nothing else."

Sora had fallen quiet. When he spoke again, Leon could hear the hurt in his little brother's voice. "It's been five years, Squall."

"And for some, that's long enough. For me, it's not."

"I just … want you to be happy."

Leon ran a hand through his hair with another small sigh. "I know you do, kid. And that's why I can't really be mad at you, no matter how many times you butt into my life."

"And, you know," Sora continued, very quietly, ignoring Leon's comment, "sometimes I get to thinking, and I think that if she knew how you were living right now, then she'd -"

"Sora, don't," Leon ordered sternly, his fingers gripping the receiver with a sudden desperation. "Don't you dare finish that sentence. You think about her? I think about her every goddamn day. What could have been and what is instead. What has to be and what will never be anymore. Everything. Every … damn … day …"

Leon squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, willing himself not to start crying. Sora would never understand how much it hurt. To hear about her and think about her, yes, but also simply to go through his day. To pass from one day to the next. It hurt just to live. Someone as happy as his brother could never understand. You had to experience real tragedy to even begin to comprehend.

"I'm sorry," Sora was saying, his tears evident. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Leon interrupted. He inhaled slowly and forced himself back under control. "It's okay, Sora."

For several minutes, neither brother said anything. Then, Sora whispered, "I love you, Squall."

"I love you, too, Sora."

"I really messed up this call, didn't I?"

The corner of Leon's mouth twitched in a small smile. "Not too badly."

"Should I let you go back to the heaving and the throbbing?"

He snorted in a mixture of amusement and disgust; his eyes darted to the computer briefly before turning away again. "Probably."

"Okay then. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. Bye."

After hanging up with Sora, Leon just sat for several minutes with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His brother only had the best intentions for him, but that didn't make it hurt any less. The problem with only wanting him to be happy was that Leon knew he couldn't be that anymore. Without her, he could never be happy; the best he could manage was content. Squall had died the same day she had - he only let Sora call him that these days, and that was only because the young man had insisted. Now he was just Leon, writer of crappy romance novels and fantasy heartthrob to hundreds of silly schoolgirls and lonely housewives.

He sighed and closed down his computer. He didn't have the stamina to deal with Pietro and Alexandra anymore. Instead, he would pour himself a scotch, watch some mindless TV while he drank it, and then go to bed early. His editor would just have to deal.

About an hour later, Leon lay on his couch, covered in a fleece blanket, sipping the last of his scotch and watching the Giants and the Eagles smash repeatedly into each other. Outside, the wind whipped through the trees with the promise of a late-night thunderstorm. Normally, Leon would have stayed up a while to listen to it, but this evening, he stretched, yawned, and, flipping off the TV, rose to put the glass in the sink before retiring to bed.

He had just turned off the kitchen light when a huge CRACK resounded from outside. Leon inhaled sharply at the sound and immediately began searching for his shoes. He had just planted three pear trees in his front yard, and the landscaper had warned that they were still fragile while this young. A wind like this could have torn off a branch from one of them, or worse, knocked the whole tree down. Grabbing a flashlight and a light jacket, he opened the front door and went out to inspect the damage.

A light rain began to fall as Leon directed the flashlight's beam over his yard. There were the pear trees, and while they bent and shook, they still stood there with all of their branches intact. Leon frowned. What had caused the noise then? Another one of his trees? God forbid one of the older ones was about to drop a monster branch directly onto his house!

He turned and aimed the light over different places in his yard, checking the trees and the house for damage. Nothing seemed out of place. Leon sighed and was about to head back into the house when the light moved and something flashed golden for the briefest moment. Curious, Leon tried to find the spot again and, failing, moved closer to where he thought it was.

There, lying face-down in his hydrangeas, was a man. The glint of gold had come from his blond hair which fell about his face in a disheveled mess, covering a good part of the man's features. Everything else he wore was completely black.

Leon dug one fist into his hip and frowned deeply. How had a drunk found his way onto his property? The nearest bar was miles away. Hell, the nearest house was a five minute walk. How in hell had this guy stumbled through the surrounding forest to land in his hydrangea bushes?

"Hey," Leon growled, kicking the prone form a little, "get up. Find somewhere else to sleep it off. You'll catch pneumonia if you lie here in the rain, and I don't want to deal with the police paperwork."

The man didn't move. Sighing in frustration, Leon knelt down and proceeded to shake the man's shoulder. "Hey, wake up! I said you have to move!"

This close to the other man, Leon expected to be assaulted with the smell of alcohol, but he noticed no scent other than the rain-soaked flowers of his bushes. His shaking had moved the mess of blond hair, and he now had a better view of the other's face. Instead of the blank, stupid look he associated with drunks, the blond man's expression was tight as if with pain. Scratches from the bushes littered his face, but the lines in his forehead spoke of a greater pain than nicks from twigs. Leon sat back on his heels in surprise. This guy wasn't drunk; he was sick, or hurt, or something else entirely.

Confused, Leon let the flashlight move upwards so he could examine the bushes and the part of the house directly behind them. The plants looked bent out of shape in several places, almost as if a mass had fallen onto them and pulled them down. But not just from a standing height. It looked like someone had fallen off of the roof into his bushes. How the hell had this happened?

He looked down again at the blond on the ground. He looked to be about Leon's age, maybe a bit younger, and he was grippingly handsome. He could easily have been one of the male models who graced the covers of Leon's idiot romances. Not a good fit for a Pietro, but maybe a stableboy or a young boy off to war. Something more rugged than aristocratic.

Leon shook his head violently. What the hell? He was kneeling in his front yard in the rain with an unconscious stranger before him, and he was wasting time categorizing the other's looks? What was wrong with him?

"Hey," Leon tried again, pushing aside more of that blond mass and lightly tapping the other's scratched cheek. "Come on. Wake up. It's not good for you to stay here. Come on now."

The blond only moaned slightly and shifted onto his stomach, hiding his entire face in his arms. Leon half-growled in frustration and placed his hand on the other's back, intending to shake him yet again. But as his fingers and palm pressed into the fabric, he felt something warm and sticky spreading over his skin. Shocked, Leon drew back his hand and aimed the flashlight onto it. Blood. From his wrist to the tips of his fingers.

With a violent gasp, Leon turned the flashlight back onto the blond and searched him for the source. It was hard to see because of the black fabric, but Leon could just make out a massive oval of darker color on the blond's back.

"Shit!" he breathed. That looked bad. Really bad.

Later, Leon would wonder why he didn't call the police or at least a regular ambulance. The stranger could have been a thief, a gang member, or something else equally violent and dangerous. Faced with that question, he would rationalize to himself that the nearest hospital was a twenty minute drive away and that if he had transferred the blond to his car, the extra blood loss from the movement might have killed him. However, at that moment in the rain, Leon didn't think at all. He acted purely on instinct. Running back into the house, he grabbed his phone and called his neighbor, a retired doctor.

Then, he went back outside and, thinking nothing of his own clothes, hauled the blood-soaked stranger into his arms and took him inside.