Loveless

Nothing except the OC belongs to me. It’s all Square. Sob. 4. Manna From Heaven The baby, a little girl, was born while Cid was in Wutai. He wanted to be there, but the baby wasn’t going to wait for him to come back. Shera had called him after she came into the world. “Anata.” Shera could almost see his shock over the phone line. “Shera! Is everything okay?” “Yes. The baby was born…Cid, the names we had agreed on—do you still want to use them?” She heard an annoyed susurrus as Cid exhaled noisily. “The baby? Already? Dammit, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for it…” “It’s okay, Cid. You’ll be home soon, won’t you?” “Yeah. If only he would’ve waited another two or three weeks, I’dve been there.” “She, Cid.” “Huh?” “It was a girl.” Silence. Then, “Oh…so, you wanna name her Skye?” Shera blew an irritated sigh. “Cid, we’ve talked about this…” “So? Why the hell can’t we name the kid that?” “What’s your last name?” “Shera, don’t be such a fuckin’ dolt. Ya know my last name is Highwind.” “Okay, Cid, string her name and your name together.” “Skye Highwind. So?” Shera grinned despite herself. “Slower, Cid.” “Tcha! Fine…Skye…High… Shera waited patiently for the shout of laughter that would inevitably come. Cid didn’t make her wait too long. She let his howls of mirth taper to random chuckles. “Holy shit, Shera! What was I thinking?” “Got me, Cid.” “Shera? What about Skyler? She can still be Skye to us, and the rest of the world won’t laugh at her name because it’s a bad pun.” Shera laughed. “Yes, Cid. Skyler is fine.” Cid grinned into the phone’s receiver. “Good. Um…who does she look like?” Shera’s trilling laughter had rung in his ear like a silver bell. “You’ll see.” O-O-O-O-O One month later, Cid returned. He had left rawboned but full of life; he returned gaunt, and he sported bruised half-moons under his eyes. He embraced Shera as if he was a drowning man and she was a life preserver. “Gods, woman! I missed you like fire,” said Cid, when he could speak coherently. “The baby…where is she?” Shera took his hand, and led him into their little house. “Bet you’d like to see her…” Cid laughed. “That’s a bet you’d win, Koi. Here?” He pointed to the spare room. “Yes.” They entered. The spare room was done up in pinks and purples. There was a tiny crib under the window. Cid pointed warily. “Here?” Shera glanced at him through the corner of her eye. “Yes, Cid…are you okay?” “Yeah, Shera! Christ almighty, I’m fine!” He crossed to the crib, and peered inside, where a tiny, incensed baby began fussing at being woken up so rudely. Cid smiled down at Skye. She had wispy fine blonde hair and a pair of striking blue eyes, eyes that, until now, he’d only seen staring back at him from his shaving mirror. Other than those features, she was all Shera—the contour of her finely made jaw, her little widow’s peak, and her ears set close to her head…all Shera. Thank Gods she looks like Shera; if she looked anything like me, he thought with a smirk, she’d be one ugly little bastard. He reached into her crib to lift her up. Skye opened her eyes and gawked at her father for a few moments before bursting into a terrified, ear-piercing screech. Cid nearly dropped her in alarm, and quickly attempted to hand the baby to Shera. Shera grinned and refused the bundle. “No, Cid. You’ve never gotten the chance to hold her yet. Get to know your daughter. I’m going to put up some tea.” Some time later, Shera became concerned when there was nothing but silence coming from the nursery. She made her way to the little room, only to find Cid speaking in a halting, choked whisper to his daughter. Skye stared at her father nearsightedly, enraptured by his words. It would have been a comic scene, too, if not for what Cid was telling his tiny child…and for the pain in his voice. “I’m so glad to be home, Skye. I never thought I’d see ya, ever. I…I saw the most horrible things when I was away. I never wanna see it again, but I’m not sure if I can un-see what I saw. I…I thought I was gonna die once, but now—now I’m glad I didn’t.” He smiled down at Skye. “I know ya don’t understand what I’m tellin’ ya, kiddo. But ya know…Gramps told me that it doesn’t matter who ya tell yer problems to, as long as ya tell them to somethin’. I think I might’ve told the big tree out front my problems if ya weren’t here.” He chuffed strangled laughter, then bent his head to Skye’s, and grieved for the year he had lost to the Wutai. Not long after the day he returned, Cid started drinking again. O-O-O-O-O Skye grew at an almost alarming rate. The years passed by in the same manner. Cid’s Gramps met Skye just before he passed away. Cid was shattered by grief when the old man finally died, but was glad Gramps met his great-granddaughter. It was a memorable Yule, the Yule before he passed on. Gramps had carved a beautiful star for their tree, and gave it to Skye as her first Christmas gift. His Gramps raised Cid from infancy…his father was killed in an accident, and his mother wasted away not long afterwards. When the old man went, it crushed Cid. Gramps was the last vestige of a family that he had never known. Maybe that was why Cid was so attached to Skye. She resembled her father only a little, physically, but her mannerisms were all Cid. She was a tempestuous toddler, and had a fierce need for independence. She learned to speak early on, and was intelligent and strong minded. When Skye wanted something, she made sure she got it. Lucky for her she had her father wrapped around her little finger. After the old man’s death, Cid’s drinking went from the occasional shot, to the everyday shot, to binge drinking, to the full-blown bender. Shera was powerless to do anything to stop it. She hid the alcohol, poured it down the kitchen drain (but only once; it caused one of the most horrifying scenes in her life—he was apoplectic with fury, and broke every window in the house), threats, crying…she ran the gamut. Shera supposed that it was post-trauma stress that caused his binges—that, and the pain of loss, but she was going to have no more of it, especially around Skye. But… But, she stayed. Was it, perhaps, a feeling of fealty to a man who was a shell of his former self? Maybe…was it just love? Was it love for a man who became increasingly secluded from his little family? Maybe…was she afraid he was going to waste his life, and drown himself in that sinister amber liquid? Maybe… Was she afraid he was going to drink himself to death? Definitely. She feared for him, and feared of him. When was it going to be too much? When would she leave, and take Skye with her? When his razor tongue wasn’t enough punishment for what he perceived was wrong, and he resorted to using his fists? He might. Would that be enough? Or if he were negligent…what if he were soused and he tried to pilot the Highwind? Or decided to clean his service pistol? Or any one of the hundred thousand scenarios that played in Shera’s brain…what would happen if someone else got hurt?