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Chapter Four: Flinch

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He had watched Cloud fall asleep as they conversed quietly in the warm glow of the flickering television. That same silly sitcom from the previous night was on again, but neither laughed at it.

Zack smiled down at the boy who drifted off from a combination of exhaustion from the seven mile hump earlier, and the inebriating effects of the pain medication dispensed to him for his injury. And like the icing, Zack had to force Cloud to take the pain medication as well, but this was done in a slightly less suggestive and forwardly erotic way.

He sat there and stared at his innocent features as he snored softly on his back, his right arm cradling his chest out of a newly formed habit of the bruising. He stretched suddenly, letting a soft groan of displeasure escape his throat as his legs pressed against Zack's thigh on the other side.

Zack chuckled and scooped the boy's legs up from off the couch and gently lay them across his lap.

The boy responded with a content sigh.

And if it wasn't for one pressing question in his mind, Zack would have spent that time musing over his feelings about this young boy until the odd hours of the night.

How did he get that injury?

Kunsel had questioned him over the phone, stating that Cloud claimed he had hurt himself on their training mission the night before. But after many moments straining his memory of an instance where Cloud could have possibly sustained the injury during their battles, he couldn't even think of a single explanation for it. He sat there, pondering and frowning in thought.

So where the hell did it come from?

Zack was unconsciously rubbing the boy's socked feet with his hand. Cloud purred in his sleep, and it made him realize what he was doing with a jolt of his heart, and he stopped. The SOLDIER watched the boy as his eyebrows met in the middle of a formally peaceful face, and he groaned in protest from the sudden loss of pleasure rubbing throughout his sore extremities.

Zack resumed massaging his feet and that peaceful look returned to that angelic face. He was too sweet for his own good, and it drove Zack absolutely nuts.

Images of the strange and suggestive advances he made towards Cloud flooded his mind and he bit his bottom lip, a feeling of worry and dread washing over him. What was he doing, what was he thinking?

He couldn't even remember harboring these feelings for the boy. They just seemed to appear over night one day and hit him upside the head, stunning him, and then took a permanent residence in his jumbled heart, dictating his increasingly erratic behavior towards Cloud. It worried him, it thrilled him. He was in love with the possibility of being in love with Cloud. It was torturous, and he enjoyed every slowly changing minute of it.

He really hated musing and dwelling on things like this, as he normally was the type to just deal with these situations as they came to him. He wasn't the type to sit and think with patience, and this fact alone was driving him even more nuts than Cloud himself.

Should he just kill the buzz he was riding on and just confess his feelings for the boy? Did he really have feelings for him, or was it a false sense of love shrouded by a simple infatuation with his innocence?

Rejection weighed heavy on his mind.

Letting out a shaking sigh, he leaned his head back against the top of the couch and closed his eyes, still rubbing the boy in his hands. He wished he was rubbing something else on the both of them, instead of Cloud's feet.

Shit, not now. Don't think that. He scolded himself.

'This absolutely sucks', was the last thought as he drifted off into a mind numbing sleep.


~*~*~
Sheer panic, and uncontrollable shaking.

Frantic eyes darting at the clock in disbelief. Heart racing in a heaving chest.

It was three in the morning.

Cloud tugged his legs free from Zack's surprisingly firm grasp – even while sleeping – and he collected himself up off the couch.

Why was he shaking so bad?

The bottle of pain medication rattled in his pocket as he moved, reminding him of exactly why he hated taking prescriptions. Yet another newly developed department of Shin-Ra, the monopoly giant. It was a company that had the motto 'Anything you can do, I can do better, and more flashy, and more extravagant, and will kick your ass all over the place if you decide to oppose me'. What started as a weapons manufacture, turned militia, turned energy company, then turned pharmaceutical. Was there anything that Shin-Ra didn't do?

Cloud scrambled to his surprisingly comfortable feet as he searched frantically for his belongings. Throwing on his boots he flew out the door in the quietest way possible for being terrified to no end of his impending fate.

As he ran down the hall in a frantic blond blur, he didn't even notice the silver-haired hero walking past him calmly in the hall towards his own residence.

Cloud threw a haphazard salute to the SOLDIER as he ran past, and didn't even notice that it was Sephiroth, otherwise he would have screeched to a halt and stood staring in childish awe, despite it being three in the morning. He managed to slip into the elevator as it began closing its doors from the previous rider, and he was able to stop himself before he tumbled into the wall. The elevator painstakingly carried him down to the Infantry floor where each grueling ding of the bell drove farther into his nerves.

He was trying to catch his breath through the pain in his rib. The medication was finally wearing off, or it least if felt like it was. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through his veins that made him feel that way as he managed to at least get the trembling in his knees to stop. He preferred to feel the pain, as it informed him of his limits as he moved. Otherwise, being pain free and drugged up would allow him to exert himself and cause more damage if he was feeling falsely better.

Nervous legs carried him through the halls, and he slowed and quieted his pace as he came up to his barracks. He knew some of the men had trouble sleeping at night and there was probably select few that noticed he wasn't in his rack like he was supposed to be, but prayed that Mejia himself hadn't noticed. Sometimes the SOLDIERs who were assigned to watch the unit didn't actually sleep in the rack with them like they were supposed to. They snuck off and did their own thing and came back in the morning to wake everyone up in the most annoying and petrifying way.

A quivering hand reached up to the handle of the door and pressed the latch down with a thumb. But he watched quizzically as the door suddenly became further away, as he was hoisted back by the muffler of his uniform.

"Little fuck!"

He found himself moving through a haze of cigarette smoke before he was slammed up against the opposing wall of the barracks. His head cracked against the wall. Wild, confused eyes darted around as the blurry form of Mejia appeared in his vision. "S-sir!" Cloud's voice squeaked out, breathing panicked and unstable.

"And I suppose this cadet thinks he gets special treatment since he's so buddy-buddy with Zack Fair." His voice was sinister, mocking.

"Sir, n-no, sir!" He shook his head, forcing the trembling in his body to stop.

Cigarette smoke was blown into Cloud's pale face. "Little fuck, I see how you look at him," he said, his hands slowly reaching up to grasp his wrists. He roughly pulled them up from Cloud's sides and slammed them behind his blond head, pinning him.

Cloud swallowed heavily, eyes flickering against Mejia with uncertainty and fear.

Mejia's twisted face closed in on Cloud's, his voice lowering to a mere whisper. His breath was hot against Cloud's clammy skin. It smelled of gum and tobacco. "A little fuck like you doesn't deserve to be graced by such a great man."

Cloud gasped loudly as the man pressed his body up against his, crushing him with his weight. "S-stop..." He winced, his wrists painfully being squeezed by the muscles of the SOLDIER. Mejia's strength was unfathomable, his nerves and fibers in his body being enhanced by mako.

"A little fuck like you doesn't deserve to lust after Zack Fair."

"S-shut up!" His face was red with anger and embarrassment as he could feel the man's erection pressing against his crotch. He grinded him against the wall.

"What were you doin' there until three, huh?" He pulled Cloud's wrists back and then slammed them against the wall as he spoke. Mejia dipped his head down into the crook of Cloud's taut neck and ran his tongue across shivering flesh. "Little fuck, that's all you are." He murmured into him, his hips slowly thrusting into him.

"Shut the hell up!" Cloud yelled, writhing under the sickening touch of the 3rd.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Mejia lifted his head from nursing Cloud's neck with his tongue, his eyes coursing with anger.

"S-sir...please, s-stop," he said, and he was pleading now, realizing what he had just said, twice, to his superior. He bit his bottom lip in his teeth, his eyebrows arched in a pitiful look that released a perverted purr from the man pressed against him.

"Wanna know why I call you 'little fuck'?" He released Cloud's right wrist from his grip, and then struck Cloud across the face with the back of his hand. Cloud let out a restrained cry as his teeth tore through the lip he was biting down on as he was hit.

Crimson blood dripped down onto the floor and Cloud watched it in a dazed interest as it formed patterns of anguish across the tile.

Mejia grabbed Cloud's wrists again and spun him around. A forceful hand was pressed into his back between shaking shoulder blades as he once more slammed the boy against the wall face first.

Cloud uttered another small cry as he felt the man grinding against him once more.

"I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you." He kept one hand pressed against Cloud's back as he struggled meekly beneath him.

Maybe the medication hadn't wore off like he thought it had as his body no longer had the strength to move. His energy was sapped.

The sound of a belt unbuckling filled Cloud's ears and he began to become frantic. Eyes widened, breathing was unreliable, muscles non-existent.

"If I can't have Zack Fair, then I can at least have his little fuck buddy, right?" A quick grunt and Cloud assumed he had released his erection from the confines of his trousers. A hand was now at Cloud's waist, sliding around his hips to the front of his pants. Fingers began to fumble for Cloud's belt.

"D-don't do this, p-please." Cloud could feel his warm blood slithering down his chin. He could see the red smeared across the wall in front of him through blurred eyes. He gasped as Mejia's hand slipped into his now unbuckled trousers and gripped him possessively, in a firm grasp.

It was the first time anyone had ever touched him. He felt like crying.

"You will let me fuck you, or I will tarnish Zack's reputation and ruin him. I can work the system." As he said this, he began stroking Cloud's member with a gloved hand. It was uncomfortable, painful and degrading. He began to detach his mind to the situation, trying to think of other things, anything but what was happening.

He thought of Zack.

A sick moan came from the man as he pressed his lips against Cloud's ear, flicking his tongue over his earlobe. "You're bigger than I thought you'd be."
"Please stop..." He made a feeble attempt to tug away, but found himself being pressed against the wall again with unbelievable strength. The sound of the prescription in Cloud's pocket rattled and this caught Mejia's attention.

The hand was removed from Cloud's groin and shoved deep into his pocket. The bottle was removed and Cloud could hear the pop of the lid.

"You'll need to relax for this." A hand was brought around to Cloud's bleeding mouth holding three pills.

Cloud clamped down his jaw, resisting the fingers that scraped at his mouth and teeth. They pried their way in forcefully and flicked the pills inside. The hand quickly retracted and pressed down against Cloud's mouth as the other hand pressed against the back of his head, pinning him to the wall in front of him. He could feel the enzymes in his saliva breaking down the coating on the pills, and it filled his mouth with a revolting bitter taste. He gagged.

Mejia seemed to enjoy this reaction, waiting for Cloud to swallow the pills. "Swallow," he demanded.

Cloud tried to shake his head between the hands but he couldn't.

"Swallow!" His hands were squeezing his head tight, causing his vision to darken. "You better swallow it, little fuck, or I'll force you to swallow something else."

He managed to shake his head weakly, tears brimming at his frightened eyes. He hummed a protest before Mejia yanked his head back by his hair, and then slammed his forehead up against the wall with a disturbing crack of his skull. Pain erupted throughout his entire body. Cloud was seeing more blood mingling with darkness in his eyes. He swallowed instinctively.

"Good little fuck, ain'tcha?." The bottle was slipped back inside the pocket of his pants.

Cloud let out a delirious moan, his head lolling to the side as he felt his pants being tugged down in a sharp movement. They fell to his ankles as he could feel Mejia's hand grip his bottom firmly. Blood was seeping down his face, trailing along the contours of his eyelid and cheekbone. The quick sound of it dripping onto the floor vibrated in Cloud's ringing ears, enhancing each noise, focusing his slipping consciousness on it.

"Know how long I've wanted to grab this ass?" He chuckled nefariously, his finger trailing along the waistband of Cloud's boxers. "For as long as I've wanted to fuck it."

Muscles tightened, nerves heightened. The air was thick; it was suffocating.

Pain filled Cloud's head, he felt as if he were drowning in blood. His body began to become numb as the pills started to dissolve in his stomach and release the potent dose of medication slowly into his veins. His blood pressure plummeted, his breathing was coming out scarce and labored. His head was bobbing back and forth, trying to stay conscious through it all.

He couldn't hear the footsteps approaching them as Mejia was hissing words into his ear he could no longer understand. He murmured incoherent protests as his boxers were slowly being removed by the man. He could feel the man's erection sliding up against his rear slowly, hot, violating, shameful.

And then an unsettling sound of skin striking skin.

Cloud felt himself falling, but couldn't stop.


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Shouting voices, chaos all around.

Darkness that wouldn't scurry away.

Pain that was relentless and hovered over him like a fog.

He could feel someone tapping his face with a shaking hand.

He could hear his name being called out to him through the darkness.

He pressed his face into the hand that touched him so gently.

He wanted to sleep.

So he did.


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Why was there more shouting? He was trying to sleep.

"That fuckin' mother fuckin' prick! Fuck!! He'll get what's comin' to 'im!"

Why was Graves shouting when he was trying to sleep?

"Graves, quiet down. There are people trying to rest, here, yeah?" Ratcliff made a poor attempt in hushing the man, which only went ignored.

The sound reverberated in a hazy mind, causing the blood in his eardrums to vibrate. It began to rouse him from the sleep he so desperately wanted.

"Sir, can you please quiet down?" A female voice, unfamiliar.

Graves was growling angrily. The sound of his frenzied footsteps were pacing across the floor.

"I can't believe they didn't detain 'im in the brig for attempted rape!"

Rape. The word caused Cloud to peel his eyes open, the sound of the heart monitor besides him becoming frantic in its insipid beeping.

It caused the men next to him to silence.

"Oh shit, he's awake," Graves said.

Cloud could feel a kind hand on his chest. "Hey, you with us, yeah?"

Words attempted to flow from a dry throat, but retreated away back into his lungs. His vision was shaky. He could make out three forms above him. One he didn't recognize.

The one he didn't recognize hurried over to him and flashed a light into his eyes and he tried to pull back. The nurse's gentle, but firm hand on his throbbing head stopped him from moving away. She finished up with the annoying light.

Cloud made an attempt to remove the tubes that were shoved into his nose, but that was also stopped by the same pair of hands.

"Cloud, please don't remove that."

He made another attempt to remove the tubes that were shoved into the top of his hand, but that was, yet again, stopped.

"Or those."

"Just do the nurse a favor and don't move, okay?" Graves said over him.

Cloud weakly obeyed.

"I'll send the doctor in, in a moment." She walked to the door and ushered Ratcliff over, suddenly lowering her voice to a whisper.

Cloud could make out what she was saying, however, and it caused the heart monitor to go into a frenzy once more.

"I'll send in the psychologist shortly, as well."

Psychologist? Why in the hell would he need one of those...

Mejia's voice resonated in his entire body.

Good little fuck, ain'tcha?

Cloud let out a panicked whimper as his body suddenly jolted from its position on the infirmary bed. His movement caused several pieces of equipment he was hooked up to, to shift with a loud enough noise to get everyone to turn and rush over to him. Soon, three pairs of hands were pressing him down as he trashed about rabidly.

"Hey! Settle down, Cloud!" Graves was practically on top of him, which made Cloud panic even more.

"Get the fuck off of me!" he cried through an onslaught of whimpers, scrambling through their weight to sit upright.

They left him there once he began to calm, despite his shuddering. The I.V tubes were swaying from his arm, the wires from the heart monitor plastered to his heaving chest were tapping together in a frenzy. He suddenly felt like vomiting, and it must of showed as a bedpan was placed on his lap. Just the sight of it alone made him vomit, as if on cue.

"Good, good. Get that medication back up." The nurse was rubbing his back, holding the pan in front of him as he heaved into it. He coughed, the bitter taste from the pills flowing back into his mouth as he retched. Saliva dribbled from parted lips as short cries were uttered from a burning throat. The muscles in his stomach were taut, rigid. He felt like collapsing backwards, but the nurse steadied him with a skilled arm. A few more retches and he was empty.

"Nice job. That's what we were hoping for." She moved aside as Ratcliff appeared with a few tissues and he wiped Cloud's mouth for him, carefully patting the new stitches in his lip. The nurse disappeared with the bedpan, much to Cloud's relief, as the sight of it threatened him once more with vomiting.

Ratcliff sat on the bed next to Cloud's knees, and the closeness of the man made Cloud flinch, the heart monitor reflecting this on the screen. "Hey, no stomach pumping for you, yeah!"

Graves chuckled. "Yeah! They said that the amount wasn't lethal, but sure as hell would give ya a hang over if it didn't come back up."

Cloud sat there silently, his eyes half-lidded over dark circles.

Ratcliff's hand affectionately rubbed Cloud's knee through the knit blanket over him. They all remained silent, not knowing what to say, or just how bad Cloud was physically and mentally. It was like treading on egg shells, which Graves was especially not very good at doing. And that showed as he suddenly blurted out something that made Ratcliff smack his forehead in utter shock and shame. "That fucker's gonna pay for tryin' to rape ya like that."

"Goddammit Graves, just get outta here!" Ratcliff said, throwing his arm out as if to shoo him away.

Cloud was shaking uncontrollably again, his face draining of what little color it still held. His chin began to quiver as his eyebrows arched. He felt like screaming, knowing no other way to express himself, but he held it in, fear washing over him at the sight of the two doctors who entered. He just wanted to leave the place, to rip the I.V from his arm and hide somewhere – anywhere.

"Okay, welcome back Cloud," one of the doctors said rather impersonally. He flicked through several pages of chart that he held on the young boy and then tapped it against an open palm. "How're you feeling?"

Cloud didn't respond. Instead, he just stared down at his legs underneath the blanket.

"Nurse, can you get him to lie back down? He shouldn't be sitting upright yet," he said, and a nurse hurried in shortly after.

"Well Cloud," he said while the nurse urged him to lie back down, but to no effect. "You'll be staying with us for a few days to keep an eye on you. You did a little number to your head there." He motioned up to the stitches above Cloud's left brow where Mejia had cracked him against the wall the second time.

"Cloud, please lie down," the nurse said, making another pathetic attempt to push down on Cloud's rigid shoulders. He shrugged her off roughly and she retracted her hands, afraid to touch him as he sat there emotionless.

Ratcliff tried to urge him back down, but Cloud shoved him away with a frustrated whine as well.

"That's okay. He'll get tired and lay down on his own soon," the doctor said, rather blandly. The nurse left the room.

"I don't want to be here," Cloud whispered.

"Well, you don't have a choice. You need to be observed for several days."

"I don't want to be here," he said again, his voice rising in strength.

The doctor glanced over at his colleague, a rather pretty woman who was watching silently, studying him.

She walked over to him, her curly blonde hair bobbing around her shoulders as she approached. She spoke softly to him. "Is there someone you want here with you? Would that make you feel better?"

Cloud continued to stare down at his legs, his hands fiddling with the I.V in his arm, contemplating on if he wanted to rip it out or not.

"Zack Fair," Ratcliff said for the young boy.

The heart monitor voiced the skip in his pulse as the name was spoken.


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...To be continued in Chapter Five: Consensual.