He stood in the shower, quietly sobbing as his tears leaked from his baby-blue eyes and mixed with the water below. He felt dirty, violated, broken, used, worthless, humiliated—he could go on for a million years. What had he done to deserve this? He scrubbed away as hard as he could without hurting himself further, trying to cleanse himself. It was late at night, many hours past the cadet curfew, but he really couldn't bring himself to care at the moment.

xxx

"Wait, please, Sir, don't!" he cries, pitifully attempting once again to get away. 'Is this really the man I wanted to be?'

Emerald eyes glare at him with not a single speck of remorse or guilt for what he is doing. They are nearly devoid of emotion, save for an insatiable lust and a ferocious hunger.

"Shut up, Cadet. I don't want to hear your whining." he snarls. Then the boy is screaming, not in joy or pleasure, but in sheer agonizing pain as he is taken—unprepared—for the first time in his short life.

xxx

His best friend, an energetic black-haired Second Class, had attempted to find out what was wrong, had tried to help and console him, but the young boy just ran away, trying to hide his tears and weaknesses. He didn't want him to find out. He couldn't let his friend find out. Who knew what would happen?

xxx

"Hey Spiky! What's up?" he calls to the cadet. The blond is limping rather awkwardly in the direction of the showers, shaking; he doesn't acknowledge his friend.

'What's with him?'

The SOLDIER runs to catch up. "Hey, what's wrong? Somethin' happen?" he asks, voice laced with concern. He realizes soon after how stupid that question had been—he can see the younger gasping for breath as he turns away. It's dark, so he can't be sure what, but he knows there's some kind of liquid on his face—tears, blood, sweat, maybe some other things, too. His eyes widen at the sight, barely registering the fact that the infantryman's clothes are ripped and torn, hardly fitting right.

'Did he get in a fight...?'

"Whoa, c'mon Spike, please tell me what happened. Please?" he pleads. The cadet shakes his head, so gently the older barely sees it, and turns to go. The Second latches onto his arm gently, not wanting to scare him; it doesn't work, as the smaller flinches and lets out a very quiet whimper. Zack loosens his grip even further.

'Damn, someone musta hurt him pretty badly to make him act like this...'

"Please, Spike, I only wanna help you. Can you at least try to explain, please?" he looks into tear-filled eyes, desperate.

"You can't help—no one can. You can't fix this." he manages to croak out; he pulls his arm out of the older's grip, and runs off, leaving the stunned and slightly hurt man behind to stare after him.

xxx

His lithe frame shook violently as he dry-heaved into the corner of the stall, no longer able to produce any substance to vomit. He collapsed, finally, too exhausted in every possible way to keep standing. The water poured over him, sending anything that might have lingered even after the rigorous washing down the drain. He wept uncontrollably, tired of holding back the tears, and screamed as loud and as much as his fragile little heart desired. He didn't care that he had most likely woken every soul in the building—he just kept on crying.

xxx

'Why? Why me? Gaia. Oh dear Shiva, it's not fair. Please Sir, stop. I don't want this, I really don't. Please, General, just stop it!'

There's a low grunt from above, and a warm substance fills him, leaving him emptier than he's ever felt before. It takes him of the one thing he thought he'd had control over—he takes him of it. The man removes himself quickly and painfully, not a shred of concern for the young boy, who's left with a hollow relief. He is left to scramble for his clothing, inspect his injuries as best as he can in the dark. There are few minutes where he thinks he is finally alone, where he dresses himself, but then the General is back, and he is yanked up by his shirt. He's slammed against the solid bricks, and pain shoots through the back of his skull. Silver hair brushes against his collarbone –an unpleasant, prickly feeling— and wicked eyes are glaring at him.

"If I hear rumors of tonight's events going around, not only will those individuals be disposed of, I will not be as kind next time. It would be futile to seek help anyway. I can assure you, there is not a single soul in this company who would believe you." he glares. Then he is dropped, and the man is gone around the corner, leaving the boy behind with a hand on his bleeding head and a numb feeling spreading throughout his body.

xxx

The door opened, he registered vaguely, before footsteps approached the stall and pulled back the thin curtain. He didn't care, though. He cried. Not screaming or yelling like before, he just let the tears fall. The person turned off the water, still running, freezing by then, and he felt himself being lifted. That wasn't such a difficult task. His 15-year-old frame was much smaller and slimmer than other boys his age. Perhaps that was why the General chose him, because he knew he could not have fought back.

A towel was wrapped around him gently, and he was carried to the nearby locker benches where he was placed with the utmost care. His hair was dried, as was most of his body. He sat through it all, a blank expression on his face now that he couldn't shed anymore tears. He didn't even try to register who it was that was helping him, the numbness fully in control. The person clothed him in a simple T-shirt and sweatpants, not uttering a sound all the while, until—

"Guess it's not really a good question, to ask if you're okay, huh...," the person man murmured softly. The boy stirred slightly –he knew that voice— and with great effort, pulled his blue eyes up to meet glowing violet ones, which were filled with a great sadness.

"Leave me alone," he tried to shout. It came out quieter than a whisper.

"You want me to carry you back to my apartment, or can you walk by yourself?" the man asked, either not hearing or caring about the comment.

"What?" his voice was even softer than it had been before, and confusion came into his red-rimmed eyes. It took the ebony-haired man a few good seconds to figure out what he said. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I'm not gonna just leave ya here, Spike. I'm forbidding you to wallow in the showers, or to go back and sulk in your room. I told you I'm gonna help you, and taking you back to my place is the only way I can help, since you refuse to tell me what's wrong."

"I told you already, you..." he trailed off with a small sigh, too tired to continue. It was a losing battle, either way. He nearly slid off the bench, but the SOLDIER caught him— he was upset and bothered when the younger winced, eyes flashing with fear. What he remembering what happened to him?

"I'm not gonna hurt you Spike. I won't, can't…," he tried to reassure him, dejected. The blond shook his head, tried to squirm away, but failed miserably. He nearly started to hyperventilate.

"Hey, c'mon, Spike, take a deep breath. Please?" he asked, "Tell me what's wrong?" The smaller boy shook his head again almost violently.

"N-No, I can't! He might...he's gonna…," he shuddered, and stopped taking, eyes filling once again. The raven almost began to cry himself, his best friend's misery breaking his heart even more than his mentor's death did. He bravely, stupidly wrapped his arms around the younger.

"Shh, Spike, c'mon. It'll be okay soon." he felt the blond hair against his cheek as the statement was denied.

"It w-won't. You know it won't. I-I'm just worthless, used for whatever, t-then thrown aside like an old rag. It's n-not like anyone really c-cares." he spat, bitterness dripping from the words. The elder felt even more hurt than before, and grabbed the blond's chin in a firm grip, forcing him to look into his eyes.

"That is absolutely not true, Cloud. I care about you. You've been my best friend since I've known you. One of my only friends. Don't you ever say that no one cares about you, about what happens to you, because I always will, no matter what. Ya hear me?" Zack said, tone firm, even a little angry, leaving no room for denial as his eyes burned into Cloud's. Cloud was shocked into oblivion at the reprimand, but tried not to let it show- the only response Zack received was a brief flicker in the blond's eyes. A frustrated sigh filled the room.

"Cloud, come on, Spike, tell me, please. I just want to help you, dammit. Really," his last word was softer than the others, and he tightened his hold on Cloud, not really wanting to let go. He cared about Cloud, much more than a teacher should care for their student, their subordinate, but he wanted to comfort him, be there for him, if only Cloud would let him.

Cloud wanted Zack's help. He really, truly did, but he couldn't lose him, and he would definitely lose him if he told. Zack would storm over to Sephiroth's office –close friend or not—and attack him. It would be for nothing, Cloud knew. Zack would only get killed, written off as some accidental death within the company; Cloud would get an even worse punishment from the General. Telling Zack the truth would be disastrous, and besides, Zack probably wouldn't believe him anyway. It was out of the question.

He trusted Zack with his life, looked up to him and respected him, he nearly loved him for Gaia's sake. He didn't want him taken away, selfish as it was. So he leaned into Zack's arms and took a deep breath, reveling in this reassurance, thinking that maybe things could get better. Even if he had to keep quiet and never tell the whole truth, if he had to lie and be a bit selfish, he would, just to keep Zack safe.

Maybe things would get better, in due time. He could forget about what happened with the General, use it to strengthen himself, and he would live a normal life, or as normal as it could get.

Maybe now, Cloud is broken. He is kicked, and beaten, hurt and desperate, but with Zack there by his side to help and guide him, he can put himself back together.

Zack will help glue the pieces of his shattered heart and soul together, and one day, he'll be okay.

~*~AUTHOR'S NOTE THING~*~

so i was actually pretty satisfied with this fic (whoa crazy shit since when do i actually like anything i write) until the last 3 sentences lmao i want them to burn in hell but the fic nEEDS them but i just sort of wish i could make them sound less stupid and cheesy and not in present tense ugh ugh UGH whatever ok

also i can't remember why i refused to name anyone until the last couple paragraphs omfg like... what was i trying to do it makes the whole fic so much harder to understand omf silly ariana why do you do these things