A/N: Hey everyone! First FF7 fic an I am feeling nervous. This is a Genesis x Angeal fic - or will be for the most part (there may be other pairings later on). Hence, future yaoi warning now - don't say I didn't warn you...this fic starts off with Angeal and Genesis in Banora. I dunno how old they're meant to be when they first met, but in this fic: Genesis is 11 and Angeal is 10. No, they have not met yet. No, they are not even friends yet. Yep, that does mean this will be the start of a pretty long fic...^_^ but enough rambling. Rated for child abuse and just general dark themes. Rating will almost definitely change later on. As will the title, probably.

Thank you so so much to my beta, Cookiecat - who I SERIOUSLY could not have done this without.

I own absolutely nothing - pity, that.

Enjoy.

It took Genesis less than a second to realise where he was.

He didn't want to believe it was true, waking up to darkness yet again – already stripped, blindfolded and bound to a chair. He took a breath in trying to calm himself, when it hit him.

It was the smell that turned the blood in his veins turn to ice – the familiar scent of hell, the final crushing blow of defeat.

It was over.

He had lost.

Again.

Genesis screamed.

The house was strangely quiet that afternoon, not that he particularly cared or minded. But yet, he couldn't help but find the silence a little unnatural. Sure, the usual noise of the visiting politicians debating amongst themselves along the footsteps of their servants running past was a nuisance he could have gladly gone without – but it didn't seem right for it not to be there.

A frown pulled at the pre-teen's face, his gaze flicking away from the small black font of the book in his lap.

It was also rare for him to have the entire library to himself…

Perhaps something was wrong, or something important had happened he was unaware of.

That was possible. Unless the circumstances truly were extraordinary, like one of his parents died or the people of Banora attacking the estate, chances were he wouldn't be told about anything. Although… if the latter happened to be the case, there was a possibility that his parents would conveniently forget to tell him anyway. It wasn't impossible knowing them. No tears shed over their dead son's grave.

But admittedly, if the former happened to be true, Genesis couldn't see himself breaking down into a sobbing mess at the funeral either.

He wouldn't cry for them – crying implied that you cared about and would sorely miss the deceased person. And that certainly wasn't true. But then, those feelings, Genesis was sure, were mutual.

Once upon a time, Genesis had cried over the realisation that his parents didn't care for him like other parents did for their children. He had seen them embrace, smile and laugh together and wondered why his parents never did that.

Love. That word had been mentioned a lot, too.

His frown deepened – he never had quite figured out exactly what that word meant. Apparently, according to Esther, an old maid who had taken quite a liking to her young master, love was a very powerful and potentially dangerous emotion. It was something you felt when you found someone you liked so much, all you wanted to do was to make them happy, because making that person happy, made you happy. He had spent sleepless nights pondering over this strange 'love' Esther had described.

If being happy was a good thing, then telling that person that was all you wanted was also a good thing too, right?

So one day, Genesis decided to test out this theory.

His father hated him, of that much he was certain. He barely acknowledged his presence, let alone talk to him. But his mother wasn't like that - she just ignored her son instead. And she was always upset. Genesis didn't like seeing his mother that way, it made him feel sad. Was this what love was? Maybe telling her he cared about her would make her happy? Later that day, Genesis found his mother in her bedroom, staring out of a window. He knew he shouldn't have been there – he wasn't allowed to go that room without permission.

But this 'love' was a good thing…

Surely he wouldn't get punished for that!

Genesis ran up to her and wrapped his skinny little arms around her legs. She made a funny noise and tried to turn around. Genesis buried his face in the back of his mother's jacket. It smelled nice, of something sweet yet light and flowery.

'I love you' he mumbled.

His mother stopped moving. There was nothing for a few seconds and then Genesis noticed she was trembling slightly. Was she cold? He looked at his mother. Her eyes and face were wet. Oh no, he had made her cry! She was upset! Was 'love' not a good thing after all?

'I'm sorry!' he had said, fear and horror evident in his voice as he clung to her tighter. He was sorry, he really was! He didn't mean to make her more upset.

Esther was wrong. Love wasn't a good thing after all. It was horrible! He'd make sure he'd never love anybody ever again!

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' He kept repeating to her, but she said nothing - if anything she cried more.

Scared, frightened and feeling incredibly guilty, a 6-year-old Genesis had let go of his mother and run out of the room. He was already crying by the time he made it back to his room.

Neither had said anything about that day since.

Although he never found out why she had started crying, he did find out that love, was supposed to be a good thing after all – the books in the library told him that.

Small books with bright colours and pictures filled with tales of beautiful women locked up or trapped in some way, awaiting the day a handsome prince in a silver outfit and a horse would come and rescue them. The prince would defeat the monster guarding the princess and they would fall in love and get married and live happily ever after. Genesis had spent a lot of time pondering which of the characters he would be in the story. Would he be the dragon or the handsome prince? Or was he the princess? No, princesses were girls – and he was a boy. And he was human. So he had to be the man in the silver outfit. That was his conclusion anyway.

But then the years went past and Genesis began to realise more and more that the world he lived in was different from the world in the books. Things weren't as easy in this world as they were in the fairytale world.

The prince in the fairytales never had to go to school and do homework. The prince in the fairytales never got punished for getting less than perfect in class. He was never sad, never upset. He was never forced to attend parties and social gatherings against his will. Never had he felt alone and lost in a crowd of people…

… and never did the prince have nightmares.

And so it was that one day, some years later, Genesis concluded that he was not the handsome prince. He burned all the fairytales in the garden, angry and disgusted by the false hopes and dreams they had blinded him with.

He concluded that if he was anyone in the fairytale, he would be the dragon. Or the troll. Or the evil witch.

After everything that had happened to him in the 11 years he had been alive, he felt certainly ugly and disgusting enough to play that part.

Genesis's head drooped, a grim acceptance on his face.

Or maybe he just didn't acknowledge that there was a strong possibility of him being the princess locked in the tower.

The sun was considerably lower in the sky the next time Genesis had looked up from his book. Long shadows were splayed across the dark wooden floor, rectangles of orange spread out evenly where the light shone through the open windows. The whole room seemed to bathe in a soft warm glow. Genesis felt himself smile at that.

Outside really could be beautiful sometimes…

Oh, stop your whining.

He abruptly cut off that trail of thought - refusing to enter the world of pipe dreams, a one-way trip to anguish, sorrow and regret.

Genesis was only allowed to go into the estate grounds and even that needed his parents' permission. As if that wasn't enough, someone had to watch over him the entire time he was outside.

This was, according to those monitoring him, for his own safety.

Genesis refused to believe that was the case – but all his enquiries were met with silence.

Their house was separate from the rest of the town and despite the fact that his own father was Mayor of Banora, Genesis had only seen the town itself a handful of times and that was only when they were passing through to get to somewhere else. Genesis wished sometimes that he could go and see the town - it certainly would be a change of scenery. And also, he was curious. Not that he could help it, he had always been that way. His parents had never approved of that. One of the many things about him his parents hadn't approved of.

The sound of laughter and exclamations from outside begged the pre-teen's attention.

He could see it all from his view on the window seat. The group around the apple tree was quite a big one this time, at least 12 people, all about his age or younger. Most were gathered in a huddle around the wooden fence that marked the mansion's estate. About three of them had used the top of the fence as a stepping stone to climb the tree itself to get the fruit. But a couple stood back away from the crowd, just watching in silence. Genesis regarded the group with a hint of amusement and…envy?

He frowned slightly.

Well…he supposed it would be nice to be part of a big group of people like that.

A familiar wave of loneliness rippled painfully across his soul. Blue eyes slid shut and looked away as he gave a defeated sigh.

No matter how many times he pushed it away, it always came back. The overwhelming emptiness – like a black hole in his heart. Never in his life had he ever felt as if he had truly belonged - but then all he knew was this house, the one he shared with two people who thought him a nuisance. Was it any wonder he felt lonely?

One day, he thought as he looked back out at the group of people, I'll know what it feels like to talk to someone my own age.

One day, I'll to find somewhere I belong.

Even if that meant leaving Banora forever.

Genesis snorted.

You really think he'll just let you go? You're barely allowed out of the house. You're not even allowed to go into your own town by yourself – there's no way he'll let you leave Banora alive.

Then I'd die trying, Genesis thought courageously.

He found himself snickering cruelly, but the voice in his head slowly beginning to morph into something else.

We both know that's not true. You're too weak, Genesis. You're nothing more than a spineless pathetic brat! No – worse! You're a spineless pathetic –

"Genesis."

He curled up into a fetal position on the window seat, trembling arms wrapped tightly around his knees, eyes slammed shut just waiting for the final blow, the ultimate insult.

"GENESIS."

The voice was louder, more authoritative. That wasn't a request, it was an order. An order that sounded suspiciously like…

He didn't get time to finish that thought, as a loud thud sounded mere inches away from his face. Genesis gave a startled yelp as he jumped, not expecting the sound to be so close. He cried out in surprise and discomfort as a hand grabbed his wrist, the grip vice-like.

As their eyes met, Genesis felt the usual stab of fear and apprehension slice through him, an iron fist clutching his heart, struggling not to flinch or cry out at as the grip tightened. Disgust and contempt followed soon afterwards, bile rising in this throat, first at himself for letting himself be reduced this, then at the man in front of him – the man who had tortured and used him right from the beginning.

No, his father wasn't a man – he was a monster.

His head snapped to the side, fire burning his left cheek, bright lights exploding in his vision. There was a sickening SMACK as his face collided with the wooden panelling, something white hot slicing through the side of his head. He gasped in pain and the world began tilting, felt his knees gave way as he sunk to the floor. A rough grip on the front of his shirt yanked him upwards onto his feet. Genesis blinked repeatedly, trying to see through the bright lights dotted across his vision, blocking out the high-pitched shriek in his ears.

"You dare look at me with contempt, freak?!"

The low venomous hiss reached his ears, as Genesis attempted to pull himself out of the semi-conscious he found himself in.

He felt his eye twitch at the insult, but no more. The words had never truly stopped hurting, but he had managed to build up a kind of immunity to them, the stinging pain reduced to no more than a dull ache.

There was no real point in fighting back, as Genesis knew with a sickening certainty than IT had already won long ago. He didn't know why he fought back anyway. Probably because he knew how utterly unfair and unjust it all was. That and also the fact that what remained of his pride refused to let him complete his transformation into an worthless, whimpering slave - the rest of his life enslaved to a creature that wouldn't know kindness if it popped out of a manhole and slapped him across the face.

Genesis snarled through the haze.

"Yeah I dare – what you gonna do?" he bit out, each word as cold and sharp as ice shards.

His face changed at that statement. Genesis didn't trust his sight at that moment, but he was sure it expressed a look of surprise and disbelief.

Heh, he thought he'd broken me already. Fool.

And then it changed into something truly…hideous. Never had he seen anyone's face contain that much disgust and fury before – it was actually quite frightening. A little voice told him to surrender, to apologise now and save himself from the extra punishment – but he wasn't listening. His tattered scrap of pride was still gorging itself on the mayor's previous reaction.

Genesis was aware of a smug grin appearing on his face but did nothing to stop it. Instead, his father did it for him. Without warning, Genesis suddenly found himself being held up by a sudden death-grip around his neck, legs flailing madly in the air. His face began to change colour, eyes bulging, vein throbbing in his forehead – his vision narrowing, darkness closing in…

Oh God, was he actually going to kill him this time?

Just before the darkness completely swallowed everything, he felt himself move before the crushing pressure on his neck suddenly vanished and he was flying…

BUMP.

…and had come back to earth with a bump. Luckily, his shoulder it seemed took most of the impact that time, he wasn't sure how much more his head could take today. For a few moments, the room was completely silent, save for the pre-teen's wheezing coughs, chokes and gasps as he sucked in lungfuls of air.

All the time being watched by a pair of expressionless grey eyes.

'Mr Castro tells me you fell asleep in class today.' He continued icily, but Genesis was too pre-occupied to notice the tone of the voice.

Yes, he had fallen asleep, more than once.

Genesis had had precious little sleep the night before, his sleep plagued by all-too real nightmares – nightmares his father himself was partially responsible for, his own sub-conscious obviously feeling he didn't suffer enough as it was.

Genesis's breathing had almost returned to normal when he became aware of footsteps retreating towards the door.'

"So don't expect any food tonight. You are to go to your room immediately. If you are not there when I come back…" he left the sentence hanging, but Genesis got the point.

The door closed with a firm CLICK.

Genesis didn't move, simply lying on the polished floorboards, his bruised cheek resting against the cold wood. Yes, it hurt – but he was used to the pain.

A choked sob left his mouth, sounding more like a dry cough than anything else. He was vaguely aware that his face was sticky and didn't feel the need to check what it was that made it that way – the deep ache on his head told him all he needed to know. Managing to bring his arms up, he prized himself off the floor, wincing as the drying blood on the floor pulled at his wound. Standing up, he took another couple of seconds to calm himself, aware of voices outside the door his guest had just left through.

A female voice said something, but it was too muffled to make out.

Another voice replied, male. Genesis didn't need three guesses to figure out who that was. He didn't hear all of what he said, but he understood enough.

"…he says he's not feeling very hungry tonight. I'll bring him up something later…"

Like hell he would.

Recognising the unpleasant metallic taste in his blood, he spat something sharp out into his hand, grimacing as he saw the pink-stained bone lying in the small pool of puddle. A tooth.

Genesis glared at the door, hoping somehow it would reach the bastard standing on the other side.

When I leave this town, I'll make you pay for this.

And with that silent promise, Genesis walked off down the other end of the library – unaware of the steely blue eyes watching from outside.