Whom He Owns (FFVII DoC, Genesis/Weiss) Title: Whom He Owns Author/Artist:_ice_lady_ Rating: PG13 Warnings: Incest? Word count: 3326 Prompt: October 12 - Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core, Genesis: Angst - And in my pain, the screams of the forgotten echo inside my brain Summary: Genesis wakes up to find himself inside the Deep Ground complex. A/N: LATE LATE LATE! *flails*
---
“Anything else you need?” The voice was a weary, quiet whisper, so untypical for the demanding tone that drowned it even now.
Genesis couldn’t bear himself to look away from the wall. Sometimes, the simplest things bore the most excitement, seemed to occupy him the most.
He was not supposed to be this way. He was not supposed to feel so… tired. He was supposed to die, be accepted, for good. Perhaps even… no, it didn’t make sense to linger in the past.
He was supposed to, though. A lot of things.
“My lord?”
Genesis sighed, finally tilting his head to the side only a bit, enough to see this man with the corner of his eye. He didn’t have to, because he could feel him. It was a strange thing, something he knew of deep down inside, but never really made a conscious effort of dealing with.
They were his. His children. The idea of fatherhood seemed absurd as well as terrifying and the only good thing about this whole ordeal was that they were all adults. Well, except one, but she wasn’t much of anything to begin with.
He didn’t see any of them. He didn’t have to, but he knew the entire complex was in the state of watchful alert, not quite used to foreigners among their ranks, and definitely not used to… Weiss referred to him as god, didn’t he?
Weiss was strange. In that way where Genesis could find far too many similarities between the two of them to be able to relax in this place. But that didn’t bother him much. He really wanted to die, and it felt relaxing his own flesh and blood might do that. Perhaps then… perhaps then it would be successful.
But Weiss didn’t feel like that. No… it would have been too easy. Since the first moment, all Weiss projected was utter submission and respect, even though it was obvious how hard it was for him.
“Nothing,” Genesis finally whispered, slowly, returning his eyes onto the wall. It was perfect, cold, metal surface filled with small dots, mistakes, dirt, didn’t matter. It was perfect. He heard a sigh then, weak and barely there, but he could hear it. By the tension that followed, it was obvious Weiss hoped he did not.
This time, though, Genesis did turn his head. It felt like such a hard thing to do, but it had to be done. There was something inside him, something that forced him to do it in spite himself, in spite his tiredness, his loss of will to live.
Weiss was kneeling before his bed, as any respectable servant of his god would. “Your chambers are being prepared. If you want to inspect them…”
“No,” Genesis cut him off, and it took a moment for Weiss to process the denial.
“Fine, then,” Weiss whispered, rising from his kneeling position but still somehow managing to keep his submissiveness. “I’ll arrange it for later, then.”
“No,” Genesis said again, keeping his eyes on Weiss, the way his shoulders were drooped and now rising, the way he fought so hard with himself to keep respectful before him, but having to kill that inner voice that kept on yelling he was the best, perfect, better of all of them.
Weiss forced his head lower then, waiting, hoping to be granted with an answer.
“No need for… chambers, I’m not staying,” Genesis said, matter-of-factly even, causing Weiss almost wanting to scream at him, but having no idea what.
“You can’t do that!” Weiss said, almost yelled, chiding himself (it was so painfully obvious on his face), then turning back to kneeling submissively, head down, as though begging for forgiveness. “You are our god,” he whispered, ethereally even, causing Genesis to chuckle dryly before letting his head fall back to the soft pillow, eyes on the ceiling. Or was it the wall? “We need you.”
Genesis hissed, a sound so much resembling that of pain that it rocked what was left of Weiss’ cool. And Weiss’ cool was never rocked. In spite himself and his every instinct, his hand went flying, gently covering Genesis’, partly protecting, partly actually begging.
It was a cause good enough to make Genesis pull his attention away from the room’s boundaries and to his companion. To his servant.
“We need you,” Weiss repeated, even though it wasn’t hard to read Genesis’ expression. He was better off quiet, not speaking and leaving in silence, but it was above him. He couldn’t force himself to look at his god actually dying. None of them probably could.
As though something simple as a touch (though, in this place, with these people, nothing really was just… simple) hurt more than all the wounds they’d had to patch up on him, Genesis quickly pulled his hand away, as though hiding it with pulling his arms higher, squeezing the elbows into the soft mattress, pulling his body into a half seated position.
Weiss was close to getting up and helping him, but even he thought that would be a bit too much.
Then something happened. Something appeared, barely there, definitely invisible, but oh so present. It passed through Genesis’ body, in a flicker, changing him from a sick man to something not much the same but not that different either.
A small smile flickered on those lips, a mixture of disbelief, hope even. Then he sighed, the arm closer to Weiss rising slowly, lingering in the air for perhaps a second before he allowed the tips of the fingers to brush Weiss’ cheek, causing such a strong, aloof, untouchable warrior to turn into nothing but a confused child, wondering whether his parent’s actions should be questioned or this was just a way of the adults.
“You remind me of someone,” Genesis whispered, by now confusing both of them. His fingers paused once more, before sliding slowly up, touching the wild silver hair. “A bit.” The smile appearing on those lips was as calm and gentle as ever, something Genesis never managed before. Hell, he didn’t even want to. Then, instantly, his face turned back to that serious blankness, sliding into mocking sarcasm. “Now leave,” he said, like a general ordering his troops.
Weiss was a soldier, and so much more. Disobeying was not in his blood.
He left.
---
Genesis could easily use madness as his defence because it was hard, even for his own mind, to grasp the absurdity of his present situation.
Weiss had refused to help, to carry him to the lowest levels of the complex where Genesis could lock himself and die. He stated that lack of action was not the same as direct refusal of order and, besides, it was at war with his moral values, though Genesis could not understand how a man fucking his own brother could find carrying a murderer to his grave morally questionable action.
And yes, Genesis knew what the two most feared warriors of Deep Ground were doing, and it perplexed him. It had given him enough an hour in which his mind mulled over the problematic of an incestuous relationship in a place like this. But, in the end, he’d decided that there were far graver things for a person to do and be than having romantic feelings for one’s brother.
It created enough of an interest in those long boring days which Genesis spent in something that looked like a park but artificially so. He knew that this was where the warriors trained, but nobody trained when he was here. He could imagine the extend of work required to change this place from deadly to hospitable and surprisingly nice on a deadly basis, whenever Genesis expressed his desire to get out of his room.
Weiss didn’t mind taking him there, but he refused to step foot anywhere else. And it would still take many weeks if not even months before Genesis was capable of walking on his own. He could make a few steps, but that was that. Most days it was too tiring to sit and he generally reclined on a myriad of chairs and different beds that the soldiers acquired for him.
Genesis tended to be quite demanding, mostly in hope he’d tire them enough so they would finally make his wish come true.
They still wanted him to join Deep Ground. He still refused to.
“It would be easier to use a computer,” Weiss said as he left three thick volumes on a small table next to Genesis, at the same time taking the thinner one Genesis had placed there mere seconds ago.
Genesis looked at him with a smile, playful almost, but mostly mocking. “That would not annoy you as much,” he simply said, words soft, voice dulled, as though he was singing a lullaby.
Weiss seated himself next to Genesis. He almost sighed but, at the last moment, decided against it. “We just wish to make your life easier,” he said, tone of voice royal. He was the Emperor in the end.
“Because you want to use me,” Genesis retorted with a snort, taking hold of the top book on the pile, placing it on his lap casually. He didn’t feel like reading, but he definitely did not feel like talking or listening about how wonderful, amazing, perfect he was, when the rest of the world knew otherwise. These… deluded fools were exactly that – deluded. And fools.
Weiss even managed to get the wrong book, but that didn’t matter really. He didn’t read them for the stories. He just needed something to kill his time, when others refused to kill him.
“Nobody here would dare using you,” Weiss said then, craning his neck to look at Genesis, who refused to return the gesture, as the book seemed more interested.
He didn’t even know whether he was holding it the right way, but that didn’t matter.
“I would die before allowing that.”
“Then I suggest gutting yourself,” Genesis snapped back, eyes turning into two thin lines, burning Weiss’ skull. “Or you are too stupid to see the irony, which would surprise me were you anything but an imperfect copy.” Genesis regretted those words the moment he spoke them, but it was too late now.
Weiss instantly got up, the inborn defiance burning inside him. “If imperfect is your way of saying ‘perfected’, then I apologize. At least we do not degenerate.” As with Genesis, Weiss’ tongue was faster than his mind and, the moment his own words reached his brain, he fell to his knees, back to being the submissive little minion he thought Genesis wanted him to be. “Forgive me, my lord. I shall leave now,” he added, getting up as quickly as he fell down.
It seemed almost comical, were it not for the fact that Genesis was beyond furious.
“No need,” he snapped back, closing the book shut. “You and that brother of yours can continue watching over me secretly, as you always do.” He turned his eyes away from Weiss, knowing the man was going to leave, knowing these words hurt more than either of them were ready to admit.
But, Weiss was his child, in a way. He could feel him. He knew exactly what hurt and how much it hurt. That way, he knew where to attack, where to hit to get the best results, to make the wounds the most painful.
Weiss wasn’t a delicate little flower, but he had a number of his own buttons that made his mind feel things it was not taught how to process and, in a way, it hurt even more.
The moment Weiss left from his sight, only to station himself at a distance enough not to bother Genesis and yet keep his watchful eye on him, Genesis felt a pang of guilt pierce his heart. He didn’t want to hurt Weiss, but he couldn’t help himself.
Most of all, he decided it was Weiss’ fault for making this victory seem so bitter, and it was simply a reason enough to hate him some more.
---
Genesis’ ego could easily compete with the world’s tallest mountain, and it would have probably won. That, in itself, was not a problem. Genesis liked to keep himself at the centre of the universe; it was comfortable there. He liked being comfortable.
It was a problem, though, as Weiss was supposed to carry him back to his bed. Genesis thought about it at first. He could sleep in that artificial park, no? But, as Weiss had informed him, they needed to use it for a drill exercise, so he had to be taken away from it.
Genesis even requested to be left to observe Deep Ground soldiers at their finest, but Weiss was adamant in taking Genesis away from a place that would soon be turned into a mine field with no remorse for anyone’s life, Genesis’ included. Besides, their god would only distract his minions from focusing on what mattered at the moment.
Then, Genesis decided he was well enough to walk on his own but, three steps later, it was quite obvious he was lying and even Weiss was tired of him enough to go against a direct order and lift him up and into his arms.
Genesis did his best to squirm and make the task as difficult as possible for Weiss but, after a minute, he realized he was behaving like a spoilt brat and, even though Genesis had no problems with imposing the fact that he was spoilt, the thought of someone regarding him as a young child disturbed a great deal out of him.
So, all that was left for him was ignoring Weiss, even though that was the toughest thing to do, considering the fact Weiss was right there, but he managed. They reached Genesis’ room eventually and Weiss approached the bed and, in this moment, Genesis decided that he could, again, use his feet, while Weiss had other things in mind.
Needless to say, it ended with a very messy situation in which Genesis fell onto his bed, ungracefully and his ego shattered, and Weiss didn’t know how to react to almost harming his god.
Eventually, the two of them remained staring at one another, frozen, until Genesis decided that he was incapable of sitting anymore, and he relaxed his body onto the pillows, flipping the covers over his body, strangely resembling a pup with the tail between his legs.
He turned away from Weiss then, to the wall, deciding ignoring was a better option, even though it was obvious he was playing on the spoilt card, but at least this way his dignity was preserved enough.
Weiss only sighed, and even that was silenced, before turning on his heel, with an attempt to get out of the room.
“Tell me what it’s like,” Genesis whispered then, eyes still on the wall, but he knew Weiss froze on the spot in an instant. He didn’t bother turning around, but Weiss did, waiting.
“What?” Weiss asked.
Genesis took his time. He kept his eyes on the wall at first, then slowly turned to the other side, purposefully using the least of his energy supplies, because he knew it was annoying Weiss, it was making him nervous.
Eventually, he did manage to roll from one hip onto the other, looking at Weiss now, who was frozen on the spot, like some beautiful impending statue, made of the purest white marble, with a touch of silver.
“To kiss your own brother.”
The array of emotions passing through that usually blank and controlled face was a bit too terrifying, even for Genesis who knew, under his skin, what went on through Weiss’ body.
“I’ll follow you,” Weiss started, voice deep and oh so defying. “I’ll cater at your every whim. I’ll make your stay here as comfortable as possible and allow you to embarrass me at every occasion…”
“Will you let me leave, then?” Genesis interrupted, but Weiss didn’t pay any attention to it.
“But you will not, and I repeat, you will not lay your tainted hands on Nero.” With that, Weiss finally turned around and exited the room before Genesis could react.
He stayed still then, turning to his back and keeping his eyes on the ceiling, as though the imperfections would help his mind process the complexity of emotions passing through it. But things weren’t that simple, they never were.
Defeated by his own mind, Genesis sighed, pulled himself up and slowly pushed his body onto his weak legs. He decided to make this wrong right, even though he hadn’t concluded how he was going to do it exactly. But, his small source of energy got depleted with the second step, and he staggered, falling straight after. And it was too late now. He was too weak to do something about it, but keep on lying there, exhausted, breathing heavily and feeling worse than after hours long exercise with his friend, feeling so ashamed for turning into who he was right now.
It didn’t last long, though. His body was too tired, and he fell asleep within moments.
---
“If you want to spite me, I do not care,” Weiss whispered softly, almost soothingly. Genesis slowly opened his eyes. Everything was still buzzing inside his mind, but it was unmistakable, the feel of Weiss’ gentle touch on his forehead. “But please, do not harm yourself.”
Genesis forced a smile. He was too weak to make a proper one, but he got his message across.
“You’re behaving like a child,” Weiss continued.
“I was serious,” Genesis whispered and the words made Weiss confused enough to stop whatever he was planning on saying. He even pulled slightly away, needing a sudden personal space much greater than before. “About Nero.”
The softness that wasn’t made for Weiss’ face in the first place, disappeared in an instant, replaced with anger, hardness, defiance that felt much more natural but still too strong than normally. “I said…”
“I can’t feel it,” Genesis continued, unfazed, voice barely a whisper and yet more imposing than Weiss’ shouted out commands. “I know it but…” He extended his arm, still shaky, still weak, until the back of his fingers touched Weiss’ cheek, making him blink, shudder even with shock and surprise, with violation of what was his. “Please, let me die.”
“No.” Weiss shook his head abruptly, but Genesis’ fingers did not shy away.
“Then show me.”
“But…”
“Show me,” Genesis said, more demandingly, the slight touch of the cheek now a grip behind Weiss’ head, pulling him closer. “I know you’re not the shy one.”
“If you promise to stay,” Weiss said after a moment of thought, words a command, not a plea.
Genesis pulled his hand away.
“Very well,” Weiss said then, wordlessly, existed the room.
---
“You do know I’d never let you die,” a strong, deep, dark, commanding voice said, imposed, as something grabbed him around the waist, pulling him up.
Genesis fought, sudden invasion of air to his lungs that felt like filled with water. He fought, his hands grabbing onto anything and everything they could, the hair, the leather, the rock. It didn’t matter. He coughed, screamed for the air, twitched, until finally, the first, painfully first rush of air entered his lungs.
And it lasted a while. A long, very long while. It hurt to hell and back, but he managed to remember how to breathe.
It took much longer to open his eyes, though. And they must have deceived him, because what he saw was definitely wrong. Dead. Dead, dead, dead. He was dead.
“Where am I?” he whispered, the question answered only by a snort, green eyes amused, far too amused.
“Get up,” the command came, something pulling him, indeed, to his feet. And he felt weak. As weak as… when was that? Last night? Yesterday? When had it happened? How many years ago? “Time to save that prodigal son of yours.”