Final Fantasy VII

A family unknown

23.09.2009

Vincent would hide in his room that much resembled a library so often that it could no longer count as hiding. But it was still a sanctuary as no one bothered him there. He could sit there for hours; wrapped in his own thoughts until the silver-haired head of a young boy, barely a teenager, peered in through an half open door to inform him that dinner was ready.

Vincent would not smile at him, or acknowledge his words, but stand up nonetheless and follow the boy to the dining room. There he was met by another silver-haired boy, this one old enough to be called a man, who would smile in a way that sent shivers down other people's spines. But Vincent knew the smile well enough by now to know it was meant to be friendly, even affectionate. The older boy would wave a hand towards the younger and speak almost offhandedly to him.

Go get brother, Kadaj.

The younger boy would run off again and Vincent would sit down next to the third silver-haired child, this one even older than the second. The third would tell him something of the day's happenings; of finally repairing the bike or a memorable incident in a store. And Vincent would listen and even answer to the man.

I've told you to clean your guns, Loz, even if you haven't used them.

Soon a whirlwind that Vincent was undecided whether to call a demon spawn or Kadaj would run into the room.

Sephiroth will be down in a minute.

And the last of the silver-haired children, the oldest of them, would follow soon behind. He would look at the table and mutter something before heading for the kitchen for what he'd noted to be missing. Then he would sit down at the table and listen to the end of whatever tale Loz was telling. The food would be placed out, but no one would begin eating before everyone had settled down. Sometimes a wooden spoon that would later be used to scoop soup or sauce would hit an overly eager hand.

Oww! Yazoo, that hurt.

I told you to wait, Kadaj.

And Vincent would smile just a little at the antics. When all were seated and dining began Vincent would watch all four children. Kadaj would wave his arms to what he was saying, and later be told by Yazoo to calm down. Loz and Kadaj might or might not get into an argument. Vincent might or might not frown. Sephiroth might or might not settle the matter with a few sharp words.

It would be the youngest three who made the conversation, while Vincent and Sephiroth, like father like son, inserted small comments here and there. Dinner was a peace they shared together and Vincent enjoyed these times, observing the children. So different they were from each other, so alike. And when all were finished, the second to oldest would run out of the room with an excuse to meet someone at the city and a quick kiss against Vincent's cheek.

Don't wait up for me.

Loz was the only one who ever did that. And Vincent still felt himself instinctively stiffen every time. Kadaj would shout after his brother, calling him daddy's boy. A flick of a middle finger was most often the response the youngest got. And meeting Yazoo's clear gaze, Vincent more often than not would find himself helping with the dishes. Sephiroth would stay behind; pouring two glasses of whatever was available. He and Vincent would have a calm conversation between adults. Sephiroth would chuckle softly and Vincent would find himself smiling.

Yazoo would join them some time later, wondering why the two preferred to stay in the kitchen. The younger would listen to them for a while, too young and inexperienced to fully comprehend, yet content enough with the temporary stillness. Kadaj would sit in his room with unnerving silence, and then suddenly tear through the house. The boy's mood swings could put a woman to shame, Yazoo once said.

Sephiroth would later excuse himself, heading back towards whatever he may have been doing before dinner interrupted it. He may or may not be caught by Kadaj on the way. The teen may or may not manage to persuade his brother into some thing or other.

Sephiroth… you promised two weeks ago already, remember?

At some point Vincent would have enough of the more or less energetic company of three brothers, and he would retreat back to the sanctuary of his room. Out of habit he would always sit by the window, keeping half an eye on the happenings outside. He would fall into his memories, or pick up a book to read. At some point of the day Sephiroth would stride in through the door with a tray of food and drink; something small and easy to swallow.

Trying to hide from the demon spawn, Sephiroth?

As are you.

Vincent would continue what he'd been doing, enjoying the silence between them as Sephiroth would lean against the wall and stare out of the window. Sometimes Kadaj and Yazoo's shouts would be heard, but the adults would not break the silence, merely shaking their heads.

Loz might or might not return home before sundown. He might or might not shout out a greeting as he enters through the door. He might or might not try to talk the brothers into whatever idea he'd gotten. Yazoo might or might not knock on Vincent's door, despite it being open, asking if Vincent wanted to join.

Loz would like it…

Vincent might or might not agree. He might or might not notice that Yazoo deliberately passes Kadaj quickly while making sure Sephiroth stands between them. Vincent might or might not note Sephiroth's exasperated sigh, realizing he was once again a wall protecting Yazoo from Kadaj's temper. Vincent might or might not hide his smirk. And he might or might not excuse himself sometime later in favour of finishing an interesting book.

Nights, dad.

Kadaj was the only one who ever said it. The teen took comfort from the word, it seemed. To Vincent's ears it still sounded odd. There would be three voices joining in with their own wishes of a good night, and Vincent would take this one time of the day to tilt his head and answer them similarly, feeling himself soften slightly under four pairs of green eyes bearing various expressions in various degrees.

Sleep well. All of you…

When evening came and the sun disappeared behind mountains and trees, Vincent would set aside the book. He would stand up and leave the room. He might or might not follow a flickering light in the corridor and soft murmur of ending credits for something long forgotten. He might or might not stop by the door to watch the scene laid out before him.

The oldest child might or might not be leaning against the back in the far corner of the sofa, head bowed and one feathered wing spread out to cover both himself and the three younger. Kadaj might or might not be nestled against his brother's chest, long since given in to the call of dreams. Yazoo might or might not have his head leaned against the eldest's shoulder in a position that would pain his neck in the morning, this one as well far within the realms of sleep. Loz might or might not lie on what was left, one leg spread out over the others, the other touching the floor, head resting on the armrest as incoherent murmurs escape his slumber now and then.

Vincent's presence might or might not alert the oldest of the four. Sephiroth might or might not lift his face to gaze at Vincent with clear eyes. Sephiroth might or might not glance at the sofa and shrug with amusement tugging at his lips. Vincent might or might not return the smile as he chooses to settle into one of the soft chairs, listening to the ending credits and watching the brothers with a sense of warmth. He might or might not prepare to join the children next morning in the painful revelations of stiff muscles.

But Vincent would sleep peacefully, as he did every night, knowing that all was as it should be.

A/N:
I myself believe in the possibility of Vincent being Sephiroth's real father, even if just for the fun of it. And from there this story bloomed. And before you start complaining about time tenses and the like, I know already. I made them on purpose! Though, in case of spelling errors, please inform me and I'll have them fixed asap.