Disclaimer: Same as it was in the first chapter.
Thank you NicotineGum for the encouragement! And I just discovered where ffnet hid the review reply button so I'll probably start making good use of it.
The mako bath was glowing an ominous green as the baby's body shifted restlessly in the liquid. Gloved hands tightened around the tiny body, trying to keep him in place, but it seemed to only have the opposite effect. Sephiroth screamed high and loud, furiously batting at the luminous bath. The green liquid splashed and little waves crashed against the edges of the glass box, the liquid creeping steadily higher as Sephiroth's movements became increasingly violent. His small hands slapped the surface of the solution, spraying mako everywhere and forcing Hojo to turn his head as the potent liquid flew towards his face. He hissed as mako flecked his mask and protective eyegear, barely missing his vulnerable eyes.
Distantly Hojo mused on how inconvenient the death of Lucrecia Crescent was. She might have been worthless as a scientist, but surely she would have fared better with the child.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw dark hair that was not his own and whirled suddenly, the baby still in his hands. Mako dripped from the baby's naked form to the dark, hardwood floor, a glowing puddle quickly forming near the scientist's feet. Glassy, black eyes swept over the man in front of him, checking for signs of hostility or the beginnings of possible violent movement. Detecting nothing, the scientist relaxed slightly. He did not believe Valentine was of any threat as the man had become increasingly withdrawn over the last few weeks. Hojo was sure the man's mind was in a questionable state, but it had not put him in any danger so far. In fact, if not for Valentine's consistently passive face, he might have thought the man was afraid of him.
Vincent's hands lifted slowly and he took a small step towards Hojo, his bare foot making a quiet splash in the mako puddle on the floor. His pale lips parted, as if he wished to say something but he made no sound. Blood red eyes glowed faintly in the darkness of the lab, locked on the crying baby in Hojo's hands. The scientist arched his eyebrows, did Valentine want to hold the child? His keen mind took note of the man's strange behavior, ready to transcribe the information to the official records later.
Vincent pressed his lips together before parting them again. He brought his hands a little higher, closer to the baby before him. A small noise escaped his throat. His mind struggled to form the words he needed to express his desire and his throat was raw from screaming. Since he had woken he had not spoken a word; Hojo gave him only opportunities to scream and gasp in pain. Vincent moved his lips desperately, trying to force the thoughts in his mind out of his mouth. He felt a deep and horrible shame as tears began to well up in his eyes. Tremors rolled through his body and his legs trembled. Vincent felt suddenly tired and collapsed on the floor. His legs became wet with mako, his thin patient gown offering little protection from the glowing puddle beneath him. Hands braced against the floor prevented him from falling completely, but Vincent still felt defeated and vulnerable. Overcome with a sudden wave of anguish his body rocked with a single, dry sob.
Hojo quietly assessed the crying man with cold eyes, the light of the mako bath reflecting softly off his goggles and glasses. Could this pitiful creature before him now really be the proud Turk he had watched wander the halls of the Shinra manor, venom and envy in the scientist's eyes? Had his calm, powerful facade been so completely broken by only the madman's needles and scalpels? A slow, sadistic smile spread across Hojo's face at the thought. His hands had shattered the will of this man. His hands had been the undoing of Vincent Valentine.
"Please..."
Hojo blinked as the hoarse voice drifted up from behind the pale man's long, inky bangs. He bent forward slightly to better hear the dark haired man's voice, noticing for the first time how quiet Sephiroth had become subsequent to Vincent's tears. The baby was still in his hands and he opened his mouth, the cruel smile still present, "What was that?"
Vincent's eyes were still hidden by his long bangs, but Hojo could imagine the pain they held as Vincent spoke again, this time a little louder. "Please."
"Please what?" Hojo's voice was deceptively sweet; mocking.
"Could I...," Vincent lifted his head, his eyes colder than Hojo would have liked, but barely masking his weakness. He looked fragile. Hojo almost wanted to reach out and touch him, just to see if he would shatter.
"Could you what, Vincent?"
"Could I... hold him, please..." Vincent's voice became quieter with each word.
Hojo frowned slightly. He had been expecting such a request but he still was not sure how to react. Vincent was so broken he would not be capable of doing anything to Sephiroth, not that he thought Vincent had it in him to hurt a small child anyway. The man might have been a Turk, but beneath the hardened exterior he had always been soft. Looking into the man's softly glowing eyes he could see a sort of desperate hopefulness that made Hojo's frown deepen. As if sensing Hojo's indecision, the baby in his hands released a loud cry and began its struggles anew. The scientist fought to hold the child while his mind dwelled on how the baby had stayed mostly quiet in Vincent's presence. At this point Hojo was willing to do anything to stop the baby's infernal noise.
Hojo growled, "Fine! Take him!" He thrust the baby into Vincent's arms, glad to be rid of the child.
Vincent gasped in surprise, but quickly tightened his hold on Sephiroth's small body, not wanting to drop him. The cries stopped almost instantly which made Hojo both stare in wonder and snort indignantly. Vincent gazed into the boy's wide green eyes while shifting his legs so that he was sitting on the wet, hardwood floor rather than on his calves. One long-fingered hand lifted and brushed the baby's soft hair and Vincent could not help but marvel at its strange, almost translucent color. At the ends of the short strands, the hair looked almost white or silver, but Vincent had never seen such hair color, at least on someone so young. The baby's skin was almost as pale as his own which made Vincent's lips twitch downwards minutely. His own skin was a nearly sickly shade of white, certainly having such pale skin was a sign of unhealthiness. He brought the hand brushing Sephiroth's hair down to one of Sephiroth's pale cheeks, smiling slightly as the baby brought his hands up to grasp one of Vincent's fingers and gurgled a happy noise. Sephiroth's coloration was surely unusual, but by far his most striking and disturbing feature was his eyes. Luminescent green eyes watched him unblinkingly, as if studying Vincent just as he was studying the baby. Never had Vincent seen such odd cat-like pupils in a person and he figured it was probably a side affect of the Jenova cells inside the boy. Unconsciously, his grip on Sephiroth tightened slightly as his gaze became suddenly unfocused, remembering a moment in time that seemed so far away, as if it had happened many years ago.
His fists were clenched at his side and he took a step forward, closer to the two figures before him, "Producing a baby for the sole purpose of human experimentation?! Are you mad? What kind of life would the child live?"
Hojo shifted in his chair, "It would be for the sake of science. We've done all we can with animal specimens and we can hardly grab some random person for an experiment as delicate as this. Creating a specimen from scratch, a perfect creation, would be best for this project."
Vincent could not believe what he was hearing. He was a Turk. He killed people for a living, yet he seemed to have more morals than the man in front of him. Vincent bit back a growl, "But what about the child? A lab is hardly a place to grow up. What would he play with? Syringes and test tubes?"
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Hojo leaned forward, placing his arm on the edge of the table, "He wouldn't be a normal child, Valentine, he would be a specimen. I doubt he would have time to play."
If he had understood correctly, Hojo had volunteered to donate half of his genetic material to the baby and Lucrecia would donate the other half (he ignored the way his heart wrenched at the thought), yet here the man was, stating quite plainly that he would deny a child, his own child no less, an even somewhat-normal life. Vincent was appalled, even Hojo could not be so heartless.
In his peripheral vision he could see Lucrecia shift uncomfortably and he turned towards her desperately. He had already expressed his concern about her safety, but she seemed dead-set on being a part of the project. Even so, surely she would see the madness in Hojo's words. He whispered hopefully, "Lucrecia... don't tell me you agree with this, there must be some alternative."
She gazed at him briefly, an unreadable expression in her eyes, before hurriedly looking away. The shock Vincent felt almost made him rock back on his heels. He could not understand, what could be more important than her own well-being and the happiness of her child?
Hojo sighed, he was growing tired of the Turk's silly, self-righteous accusations. "She and I are both scientists. We understand the risks and the consequences, though I wouldn't expect a brainless Turk, such as yourself, to be able to comprehend such things."
Still watching Lucrecia, waiting for her reaction to Hojo's words, Vincent held his breath. When she did not protest he lowered his gaze, defeated. How badly he wanted to argue against the Jenova Project. He wanted to protect Lucrecia and her child... No child should ever have to suffer such a horrible fate; doomed to be experimented on from birth until the end of his life. Vincent wanted to fight, but what more could he do? He was just a Turk, he had not authority in this situation, and he had never been able to deny Lucrecia anything...
Vincent looked down at Sephiroth once more. The baby had contented himself with playing with Vincent's hair as Vincent had reflected, the light tugs on his hair distracted Vincent from his dark thoughts. Such a wonderful child, how different his life could have been. Vincent poked Sephiroth's chest softly, causing the baby to giggle and grab his finger once more. Curling his finger around the child's small hands, he shifted his other arm and brought Sephiroth closer to his body. He hugged the baby to his chest and rested his cheek against the child's soft hair. Dark bangs stuck to his face, caught by the wet trail of tears slipping silently down his cheeks. The last time he had cried had been so long ago he had almost started believing he was incapable of crying, yet here he was weeping over a child that was not his, a baby he had only even seen once before. It was ridiculous but so appropriate, so overcome with sorrow was he. If only he had convinced them, if only he had stopped them...
Vincent's voice was faint and broken as he whispered against Sephiroth's ear, "I'm sorry... so sorry..."
Hojo suddenly felt awkward witnessing such raw emotion from the usually calm man. He shifted his weight uneasily. "Just put him on the table when you're done with him," he said lowly before taking a step away from the dark haired man and the child in his arms. So focused was he on the baby and his own anguish, Vincent did not even seem to mind that he was completely covered in glowing mako. Hojo was mostly unconcerned, however. He had exposed the man to so much mako over the past week his skin had developed an immunity to the liquid. The scientist turned and walked from the pair quietly, already running though the event in his mind and picking apart the scene for anything significant enough to be put into his notes.
Sephiroth leaned into Vincent's warm embrace, the feeling so foreign compared to the cold hands of Hojo and the frigid metal of the operating table. A soft voice floated down from above as Vincent sang a quiet lullaby. Though there was a slight undertone of sadness, the voice was steady and clear. Long fingers combed through Sephiroth's short hair, the smooth motion combined with the calming voice had his eyelids drooping all too soon. He wanted this peaceful, warm feeling to last longer.
Vincent felt Sephiroth's breathing even out, the gentle puffs of warm air brushing lightly over his chest, through the thin material of his backless gown. Leaning his head against the nearby mako tank he continued to run his fingers through Sephiroth's hair and his quiet lullaby grew ever softer but did not stop. He was still wet with mako and the lab was as cool as always, but Vincent felt strangely warm with the small body in his arms. He was content for the first time in a long time and he was unwilling to bring an end to the unusual tranquility he was feeling, so his simply sat and sang to the child pressed against his chest.
And the soft, sad tune of the lullaby drifted through the lab; carrying over the hum of the machines and weaving through the darkness.