For Staci. Your angst, madam.

Disclaimer: dood, fanfiction. Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, and the characters and universes therein are the property of Disney and Square Enix. I receive no remuneration for this work; it is a parody and as such utilizes the Fair Use clause of the Copyright Act.

He was self-destructing.

Leon could see it in the way he moved, sharp and restless and unsettled, as if there was always something after him, holding him back and haunting him, even now, with Sephiroth gone. Or at least gone for now. From the little the others had told him, it seemed the man was a constant, unwelcome presence in Cloud's life, no matter where he went, no matter how many times he destroyed him.

He could see it in the paleness of his skin; the way his clothes hung just noticeably looser around his slender but still muscular form; the way he focused all of his energy on training, always looking for fights, seeking out Heartless to destroy wherever he could and acting solely on instinct as if he couldn't live any other way.

It showed in the lingering sadness in Aerith's expression, in Cid's ever-present frown, in Yuffie's badgering, and in the way Tifa never really liked to let him out of her sight, even though he was very clearly uncomfortable with her tagging along. He didn't ever seem to want any of them around at all, though he was far too polite to ever come out and say so. Leon knew deep down Cloud thought it was for their own protection, and he knew the girls and Cid knew that, too, but he also knew how it felt to not want to bring others down when you're falling so hard, when you're lost, so far down that your whole world seems blanketed by endless and overwhelming darkness. He couldn't blame him for trying to hide, trying to run away, not really. Not too much, at least.

Most of all, it was there, plain as day, in the distinct, quiet pain in those normally guarded blue-green eyes. It wasn't that he got very many chances to look the younger man in the eye, but when that silent, shielded gaze was cast his way, he couldn't help but be captivated by it; pained by it. They were the eyes of a man that never wanted to let anybody in again, that didn't want to fail anyone, not anymore, not ever–but just didn't know what to do to fix things, and didn't know how to start over or move on. Or maybe he didn't think he could. Maybe he didn't think he deserved it.

They were eyes not unlike his own, and beyond all he observed, all he instinctively knew...in the fleeting depth of Cloud's gaze, Leon could see that he was searching for something. Needed something.

It killed Leon to know he couldn't be the one to give it to him, couldn't heal him or mend the cracks that splintered and chipped away at him until he was a mere shadow of his former self. After all, what could one broken, jaded soul possibly offer another? He'd only make things worse by trying.

So every day, he waited.

Every day, he watched.

And every day, he broke a little more inside, right along with him.