A/N: Written for the amazing Bunny-Boss of deviantart! If you have not seen her incredible fanart, you are missing out! Please enjoy a little fluff written on her behalf! (To be continued, possibly with more fluff, but possibly with some darkness...)

What Runs Deep

The hand on his shoulder had very long fingers. They curled easily over his shirt, not holding too tight or resting too lightly. He could feel the strength in that hand, even without it gripping hard. It was heavy, and evened the load between his armored and unarmored shoulders. At any other time, the touch of this particular hand would have left Cloud stunned and stuttering. But this moment was no time for panic or distraction.

"Strife," Sephiroth murmured from behind him. "We have been walking for an hour. You should take a moment to recover."

"I'm alright, sir," Cloud said softly into the cave.

His words echoed quietly through the cavern, and he ducked slightly at the sound of his reverberating voice. In his echo he could hear the quiet catch in his voice left by fatigue. He was tired. There was no use denying that. The thought of his bed back in the barracks had never been so welcome. Yet there seemed to be no end to the cave he was navigating through. It had been a long time since the ambush that left him bloody and bruised and left his General blind.

"How are your eyes, sir?" he asked softly into the darkness. He felt he probably shouldn't ask. It wasn't his place. He was only a cadet, after all—not even one of Sephiroth's soldiers. And even they knew better than to ask after their General's health.

Sephiroth didn't answer for a long time, and despite his adrenaline and the dire situation he found himself in Cloud began to feel his anxiety kick in. He swallowed hard, and winced at how difficult it was. He was dehydrated already. He inhaled deeply, ready to ask forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to-"

"They are not improving significantly," Sephiroth murmured, his low voice interrupting Cloud's apology.

He sounded... Frustrated. Cloud had to work hard not to balk and stare at him for the tone of his words. He'd never heard Sephiroth sound anything less than competent and controlled. He kept walking instead, aiming his flickering flashlight down at the cave floor to keep from falling and dragging Sephiroth down with him. Not that the General would have fallen. He probably would have stood there waiting while Cloud picked himself back up again. Cloud wasn't sure whether that was better or worse than the alternative.

"I'm sorry, sir," the cadet heard himself staying, not entirely of his own volition. "I wish I could help, but my cure materia-"

"Restorative magic does not work well on me," Sephiroth said with a shrug that shifted his hand on Cloud's shoulder. "It is no fault of yours or your materia's."

Cloud fell silent after the words. There was an air of finality to them that he knew better than to go against. If Sephiroth closed a subject, it was closed. There was no one in the military under the rank of Soldier 1st Class who would go against that rule.

Cloud shivered abruptly, the chill in the cave seeping into his bones as he started to wear down. He should have been able to handle the hike through the cave and more. He probably would have been able to if not for the ambush. Of course, if not for Sephiroth, the ambush would have killed him. Unfortunately, thanks to having to protect him, Sephiroth's eyes had been hurt. Cloud closed his eyes briefly against the memory of fresh, blistering burns his General's face while the man stood there, utterly calm, with blood on his sword.

"Cadet?" Sephiroth's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Sorry, sir, did you say something?" Cloud asked, glancing back. He couldn't see much more than a pale shadow behind him, but even in the dimly reflected flashlight's beam, Sephiroth's hair glinted silver.

"I asked if you were injured. You are shivering."

"It's just the cold, sir," Cloud replied, shaking his head mildly. "I'm fine."

"Strife, we are inside a cave," Sephiroth said slowly, as though talking to a child. "And there is no draft."

"Just a little chilly, sir," Cloud insisted, shaking his head.

"I am aware," the general replied with a dark note in his voice. "My point is that you should not be. The interior of caves remain at between 60 and 70 degrees in this part of the world, regardless of the time of year outside. If you are beginning to feel unwell, there is likely another reason behind it."

"Oh," said Cloud softly, hesitating for the first time and frowning as he took stock of himself.

"We are stopping." Sephiroth insisted firmly. "Find a place where you will be comfortable."

"But-"

"Now, cadet."

The tone left no room for argument. Cloud cast around with his flashlight, but every damp nook of the cave seemed exactly alike. He took a deep breath and lifted the light to his temple, shining it alongside his vision. It was a trick he'd learned from Zack. Looking at the world from that angle, the eyes of insects and animals glittered back with an almost jewel-like brightness. Cloud picked the corner that had the least number of little jewels looking back at him, and led his General there.

Sephiroth's hand left Cloud's shoulder to touch the wall lightly. Cloud watched his fingertips slide down the stone, and shivered at the very sight.

"Are you getting colder?" Sephiroth asked, sounding concerned.

"No, sir," Cloud said quickly. "Just thinking."

"Don't dwell on the battle," Sephiroth advised. "There will be time for that after you are safely back at Shinra."

"Yes sir," Cloud agreed quickly, trying not to sound too eager.

He put out a hand to the wall, starting to slide down to sit, but was stopped by a touch from Sephiroth. It was more a brush of his hand than anything, but the intent behind it stopped Cloud dead in his tracks. Sephiroth's hands relocated to his chest, fiddling with the buckles there carefully and slowly, feeling them out blindly before unfastening them and drawing his glorious jacket off his shoulders.

"Sir-"

"It is made to get wet," Sephiroth replied before Cloud could object, laying the coat down on the floor before sinking blindly to sit up on it, his legs stretched out before him.

Cloud watched in quiet awe as the General pulled his hair over his shoulder, letting it pool in his lap rather than drag over the slimy wall of the cave. He stared at the beautiful (and now shirtless) man in open shock. It wasn't until Sephiroth cast him a confused, curious look through eyes that were intimidating even with their pupils dilated and unfocused that he remembered he shouldn't stare.

"Sit down, Strife," Sephiroth instructed.

Cloud followed the command without conscious thought, and in the blink of an eye he found himself seated right next to his hero—the greatest fighter in Shinra—the demon of Wutai—the Silver General. He was bigger up close. His head was easily an extra foot or two over Cloud's. It didn't help that in the dim light from the flashlight, all of the muscles in his bare chest were perfectly lit to show off their depth and perfection.

A pang of doubt and worry drew Cloud's thoughts away from the vision seated next to him, and he turned his attention to the worry gnawing at his chest. It wasn't that he'd forgotten why he was here. He was trying not to think too hard about it. After all, there was nothing he could do for any of the others he'd come with. He could barely do Sephiroth any good. There was absolutely nothing in his power that could help Tifa or Zack, whatever had happened to them.

His mind was filling up with what-ifs the longer he stayed seated in one place. What if the bridge hadn't broken? What if he'd been paying less attention to the sway of Sephiroth's hair in the mountain wind, and more to the unusual creaking noises from below their feet? What if Zack hadn't been flirting so loudly and openly with Tifa?

What if Sephiroth hadn't caught him as he fell—if the bottom of the gorge hadn't collapsed and sent them tumbling into this cave—if Sephiroth hadn't noticed the young dragon in time to cast his partial shield spell? And what if he hadn't been so pathetic, and had gotten out of the way without Sephiroth having to stand his ground with nothing but a weak shield spell between him and the blinding dragon-fire?

All of that from a moment of bad luck. They had almost made it to the reactor, too. They were so close to reaching their goal when the bridge broke. He would have finally been able to get out of his hometown—for good this time.

"I hope Zack and Tifa are okay," Cloud whispered aloud, trying to take his mind off the guilt slowly weighing him down.

"They are fine," Sephiroth said with an easy shrug.

"No offense, sir," Cloud said softly, drawing his knees up to his chest, "But how can you possibly know that?"

"I know Zack," Sephiroth answered easily, offering no further explanation than that.

"Yeah," Cloud murmured after a moment. "He is a first-class Soldier, I guess. But if that dragon could hurt you..."

Sephiroth tilted his head towards Cloud slowly at the words, quirking an eyebrow ever so slightly. Cloud blushed, feeling the anxiety that always accompanied his nervous stutter rise. His heartbeat sped up and his face heated. Sephiroth sat at his side, waiting patiently for something to be added, and Cloud had no idea what he ought to say. Had he offended Sephiroth by talking about a first class like that? Was the general waiting for an apology? Or was he just waiting for Cloud to finish his sentence?

"He does act with less decorum than most," Sephiroth commented at last, his voice cutting through Cloud's panic. "I can see how one would forget his rank."

"He doesn't allow me to call him 'sir,'" Cloud agreed quickly, "And I don't know any other Soldiers who hang out with cadets. Much less first-class Soldiers who do..."

"He does not 'hang out' with cadets, Strife," Sephiroth corrected calmly.

"But," Cloud said after a moment of silence. "He's always spending time with me."

"Yes," Sephiroth agreed, casting Cloud an odd glance, "He spends time with you. Not merely any cadet."

When the words struck home, Cloud could have sworn his heart skipped a beat.. He stared wide-eyed out into the dark cave, not actually seeing anything.

"Do...Do you know why?" Cloud asked after a long moment.

"He wants to be your mentor through the Soldier program," Sephiroth answered easily. "And he likes you."

"Oh," Cloud whispered, lifting a hand to rest over his heartbeat.

There was silence for a moment. Then Sephiroth inhaled again, slowly and thoughtfully, as though preparing to say something very important. Cloud braced himself.

"I like you too," Sephiroth stated with a quiet, calm certainty.

Cloud's world narrowed to tunnel vision. He felt dizzy, and just a little sick. It took him a moment to realize that the soft, squeaky sound filtering into the air was coming from him.

"Strife," Sephiroth's voice sounded very far away. "Breathe in. You will pass out if you continue."

"Sorry, sir," Cloud rasped.

"No apologies necessary," his general replied with a slow shake of his head. "It is perfectly acceptable for you to refuse my attentions. It is a significant breach in protocol, after all."

"Wh—What?" Cloud stuttered before his mind caught up. "No, sir! That's not what I meant! I was just—I mean—I was forgetting to breathe and you had to—wait, your attentions?"

Sephiroth was waiting patiently at his side, watching him through the dark. Cloud could see his eyes glowing. He would have suspected that the man was regaining his sight without saying anything if it hadn't been for the way his eyes were fixed just behind Cloud instead of directly upon him.

"My attentions, yes. I find you... Appealing. Both in physical form and personality. I can count on one hand the number of people who, upon seeing me injured, would instantly jump to my aid."

"I know it was dumb," Cloud said softly.

"Perhaps," Sephiroth nodded in agreement as he spoke. "But it was also appreciated. As I said, very few would. At the moment, I believe you and Zachary are the only ones. Though there were once others."

The look on Sephiroth's face turned ever so slightly pensive, and Cloud couldn't help but reach out. He touched Sephiroth's hand. It was just a brush of his fingertips against the gloves Sephiroth was still wearing, even though he was shirtless. It took extraordinary effort for Cloud to keep from hyperventilating again when Sephiroth's hand turned to grip his gently. The general's fingers were so long, and his palm so wide. Cloud swallowed hard and tried to keep his mind from going very inappropriate places.

And then Sephiroth was kissing him with uncanny aim and his mind short-circuited. Fortunately, his lips were happy to go on auto-pilot and kiss Sephiroth back. When the two of them parted from the touch, it was softly. 'Gentle' had never been a word Cloud associated with his general, but it seemed to be becoming more and more appropriate.

"Sir," Cloud whispered quietly into the shadow of the kiss. "It's against regulations. I could be court marshalled. You could be court marshalled."

"If you can find someone in Shinra with enough spine to try and any incentive to do so, then I am the great god Odin." Sephiroth commented mildly, his fingers tracing idly over Cloud's hand, which he was still holding.

"People will say I'm trying to sleep my way into Soldier," Cloud tried again, though he was working harder to talk sense into himself than Sephiroth.

"And will what they say alter reality?" The question was softly spoken, but held just a hint of warning.

"No," Cloud agreed softly. "But it will make me very unhappy, sir. I've worked hard for this. I want to keep working hard for this..."

At that, Sephiroth paused and frowned. Though it was a reaction to Cloud's argument against them being together, having his concern taken seriously filled Cloud with the certainty that he wanted this. It meant more than any words could say that his feelings meant something to the Sephiroth.

"Then it will have to remain a secret." Sephiroth declared quietly. "Until you are of an equal rank or I leave Shinra myself."

"Leave Shinra?"

"Let us not discuss it now. There are more important things to be spoken of," Sephiroth murmured, leaning forward to whisper the words straight into his ear. "While we are telling the truth, did you or did you not get burned?"

"I-" Cloud hesitated, shifting a little. The discomfort he'd been trying to hide flared at the reminder of its existence.

"Strife?"

"We just kissed," Cloud whispered, trying to change the subject quietly, forcing his hand not to curl around himself defensively. "Can't you call me Cloud?"

"Cloud," Sephiroth said, his voice caressing the name in ways the blonde had never heard his name said before. "Don't dodge my question."

"It's just a little burn, sir," Cloud whispered after a long moment.

"There is no such thing," Sephiroth replied, shifting to run his hand up Cloud's arm to close gently around his shoulder. "I do not carry a cure. We shall have to get you to medical help. Can you continue walking a while?"

"Yes, sir," Cloud replied instantly, shifting to stand.

The hand on his shoulder restrained him easily, and Cloud looked up to Sephiroth in confusion. The man was frowning just a little, as though considering something.

"When we are alone," the silver general finally declared, "you may call me Sephiroth."

"We're almost never alone together, sir," Cloud murmured, gazing at him with rapt attention.

"Then I shall find a way to rectify that situation." Sephiroth replied, rising slowly to his feet and extending his hand to Cloud.

Cloud took the hand without thought and stood up. For a moment, the two of them stood face to face, still holding on to one another. It was hard to say what it was exactly, Cloud thought, but he could almost feel the connection between them. Not just their held hands, but something much deeper. And though he wasn't sure what exactly it was, he knew without a doubt that Sephiroth felt it too.

Even though his burns ached, and his general was hurt, and the cave as damp and dark, Cloud felt like he was floating on air as he started walking again, searching for the exit. Though he was eager to find Zack and Tifa and be certain they were alright, he hoped it would take just a little while. Even with the burns aching under his roasted shirt, he wanted to keep holding his general's hand as long as he could.

Genesis gave up waiting for Sephiroth after two days of silence and loneliness in the Nibelheim reactor. When he realized the man wasn't coming, he let his rage boil over, throwing flames, burning the monsters that had once been men—Burning the truth Sephiroth had not come to face.

As he flew down from the mountaintop, he heard the building explode behind him. He did not turn to enjoy the flames as he once would have. Instead, he stared down at the Banora White in his hand, which was possibly the last of its kind. Within a few days, it would wither away. Not as fast as he had, but quickly enough. He let it fall from his fingers, and watched it vanish into the sparse forest far below him.

He landed in the little town on the edge of the forest and strode through it swiftly. He didn't bother putting his wing away. People scattered before him as he walked, running inside their little houses and locking their doors and windows tight. They would never know how much his whole body ached—how utterly betrayed and alone he was. The one-winged monster was all they would ever know of him. As it should be.

He was almost out of town when he saw the newspaper lying on the ground. Despite the soreness of his knees, he bent to pick it up.

There was Sephiroth, front and center, as usual. But instead of himself and Angeal at his sides, there was the wild haired puppy, caught by the photographer in the middle of tackling Sephiroth and the blonde cadet beside him in an enthusiastic hug.

Anger boiled, and he clenched his fists, ripping the paper. It was from two days ago, when Sephiroth should have been at the reactor. Should have been learning the truth, and lending his genetic stability to Genesis. He spread his wing briskly, ignoring the pain that shot through him at the movement. He lifted off in one sharp flap, and started flying, heading back towards the shrine of his goddess.

Deep inside of himself, the piece of Genesis that was still sane and stable relaxed, just a little. It would be easier to fade away and be devoured by madness and corrosion knowing that Sephiroth was not alone. He had worried about his unstable friend after Angeal came to join him, and worried more when Angeal died.

He had been hoping that Sephiroth would join them eventually. He wasn't surprised that the silver general hadn't, though. He knew very well that Sephiroth had been abused by the company his whole life, and he was also well aware that if abuse was all a person knew, they were very unlikely to ever leave it behind.

He knew that he himself could no longer help Sephiroth. That time had passed, even if he did survive the degradation. He could only hope that Sephiroth's new friends would have better luck saving him than he himself and Angeal had.