Chapter 10

It had been four days since the banquette. Four days since the summon materia of Valkyria had been stolen from him. Four days, and there were still no answers, no clues.

One moment he had been surrounded by more than a dozen of Midgar's privileged and pretentious, trying to figure out how to give them and the Vice-President a slip without making a mess, and then there had been a crash, a large glass vase full of flowers and water crashing into the floor causing quite the scene.

A few seconds later – couldn't have been more than five seconds! – he had realized the materia had been keeping activated wasn't there anymore, the slot in his bangle empty.

It had been only the Vice-President's swift and insistent intervention that kept him from drawing attention to the theft, to how he had lost the one thing he priced even above his Masamune, the one person he was quickly realizing meant more to him than anyone else.

The Vice-President had set his Turks on it, had them covertly investigate the guests and scene, but at the end of the night when Veld and Rufus Shinra came to him, they had nothing more to offer him than apologies and reassurances that they would keep looking. And the dress and shoes Valkyria had been wearing before dematerializing in the middle of the dancefloor.

Four days later and they were no closer to finding her.

He had barely slept at all, spending all his time, from the early hours of the morning until late at night, in his office, dying to go out there and feel like he was doing something. But he couldn't, because Rufus had made him promise that he wouldn't draw unnecessary attention to his PR disaster in the making and trust the Turks to prioritize this matter over near everything else.

He hadn't blindly believed in the deal he had made. No, he had had a little look through the Turks' rather well encrypted files just to ascertain that they were truly putting the promised manpower in this. The Vice-President and Veld had kept their side of the bargain, and so he would sit here, behind his desk, and wade through the never-ending paperwork, answering all inquiries of Valkyria's sudden absence only with stony silence.

Late evening of the fourth day his phone rang and one of the Turks – judging by the way they failed to identify themselves – told him: 'Valkyria was just caught in the surveillance feed in the lobby.'

For a moment, everything just stopped. His breath, his heart, his mind. Everything. Then he drew breath again, and he felt lighter, because she was alive, and she was here.

'Sir, how do you wish to proceed?' The Turk asked.

"She's coming to me", he said, not really answering the question.

'We don't know that', the Turk argued, but then added: 'No, you're right. She's in the elevator and coming up to your floor.'

Of course, she was.

'Would you like me to call you back-up?' The Turk asked.

"Excuse me?" He frowned and then realized what the Turk meant. Valkyria was a summon and in all likelihood, summoned by someone anti-Shinra. "No. Absolutely not."

There was a brief silence before the Turk replied: 'Very well. Good luck, sir.' And then the call was ended just as he heard the elevator ping.

He was absently aware of setting the phone back down as he listened to the heavenly sound of her walking toward him, realizing he had closed his eyes to listen more acutely when the door handle turned, and his eyes opened.

Her hair was a tangled, filthy mess. Her skin and clothes covered in soot and blood.

She was as beautiful as ever.

He met her in the middle of the room – he hadn't even realized he had risen – and his hand rose to cup that emotionless face.

He felt light, and he was unsure if this was real or not. Perhaps, he was dreaming. "I'm sorry", the words fell from his lips, the words he had been so desperate to get the chance to say, "I failed you."

Slowly, she shook her head. "You aren't infallible, Sephiroth. It was a weakness that will never be taken advantage of, again." He frowned, just slightly, and it was enough to prompt an explanation. "I'm not a summon anymore. There is no materia to steal."

For a moment, he was speechless. Then: "How?"

She shook her head again. "I don't know. I don't know." She paused. "I broke it. I willed it and it shattered and I was free." Her eyes turned even colder, more shuttered, if that was even possible. "I killed them. They tried to use me. Use me against you. I paid them in full for the… hospitality they had showed me."

She looked so distant. His hand was on her face and there was still a vast distant between them, a distance she was creating, and he didn't like it. He couldn't take it.

He slid his hand behind her head and gently guided her closer until her head rested at the crook of his neck, and when his arm slid around her back, he felt her rigid pose melt as she slumped against him.

"How long has it been?" She quietly asked after some time had passed.

"Four days", he answered. "The Turks found no leads."

"It was a man called Fuhito from AVALANCHE", she revealed. "I don't know if the rest of the organization was aware of what he was up to, but he and his minions are quite dead now."

He found himself feeling conflicted. On one hand, he was disappointed of being robbed the chance to rain unholy retributions on the ones that had dared to steal her away and harm her. On the other… There was certainly relief in knowing the ones who had done it were gone and unable to even try and repeat their crime.

Also, there was no denying the fact that Valkyria had deserved her vengeance more than he would have, and she had gotten it and her freedom. And she had returned to him even without the materia binding her to him.

If the thought made his hold on her tighten slightly, no one – but her – would ever know.

O O O

He took to her to his apartment that evening. She wasn't a summon anymore, but she had been, and so she had never been assigned an apartment in the Shinra Headquarters nor had she been given a salary with which now to rent herself a room at an inn.

A part of him whispered to him though, that it wasn't any of these perfectly valid reasons that made him bring her over to his apartment that night.

It was because he couldn't quite let her go, let her out of the range of his senses. Not yet.

So, he brought her with him, and when the door closed behind them and he was just about realizing he had no idea what to do or say then, she rather tonelessly said to him: "I would like to borrow your shower, if you don't mind." She glanced down at her rather filthy clothes and added: "And some clothes." The tiniest hint of frown must have shown on his face as he wondered what kind of clothes could he possibly have that she could wear, because she clarified: "A shirt. Any will do."

He nodded, glad to have a request with clear enough parameters and headed over to his bedroom and the closet within. He took one of the crisp white button-down shirts he had been provided with his formal attire and brought it to his assistant.

She took the shirt with a blank "Thank you" before walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

It was only when he realized he was tracking sound of her undressing on the other side of the door with his sensitive ears that he forced himself to move. Even he, with his rather lacking social graces knew that waiting right outside the bathroom listening in on her every move wasn't alright.

Of course, the moment he went on to do something productive and distracting, he ran into another dilemma that he suspected anyone with even the tiniest bit of social intellect would have solved in seconds…

There was only one bed. And a couch in the living room, one he knew wasn't exactly suited for a good night's rest.

He was fairly sure sharing a bed with someone of opposite gender wasn't done unless in a romantic or sexual relationship of some sort. But the couch was uncomfortable and the bed certainly wide enough for two.

The couch and the bed also had a wall between them. Judging by the way his ears were straining to keep track of her even at that very moment, he was certain he wouldn't be able to even consider sleeping without her in his line of sight. But he didn't really need to sleep that night. He could very well go without for one night – or even several – without lowering his work efficiency noticeably. Perhaps camping out on the couch, guarding the bedroom door would be enough. That way he could –

His head snapped toward the bathroom when he heard the door open and in a few strides he met her in the bedroom doorway.

Her hair was dripping wet and there was a rosiness to her cheeks that he had never seen before. Her lips were a paler pink, a stark contrast from the deep red he was used to.

She wore his shirt. It was doing strange things to his insides.

Then she stepped into his personal space and laid a hand on his arm. Her shoulders immediately sagged, the tension he hadn't even noticed draining away. She breathed out a sigh of relief and muttered: "That's better."

He frowned, confused.

"It's so much louder now, the life-energy all around. Like a constant static", she explained. "You feel louder, in a good way. You drown it out." He must have looked worried, because she added: "I'm sure it'll be fine after I have had some time to get used to it." Then her hand dropped, and she told him: "You should get ready for bed. I know I'm being a bother, but I… I'll need you to ground me tonight."

He nodded. He wanted to tell her she wasn't being a bother, but he couldn't quite find the words to express it or how relieved he felt for not having to spend the night away from her.

When he slid into his bed, a good foot away from where she already lay, she was quick to roll over, resting her head on his shoulder and resting her hand over his heart. He watched as her eyes drifted closed and listened as her breathing deepened. And when the poorly slept nights of these torturous last few days caught up with him, he finally let himself fall into a deep, restful sleep.

O O O

The General's PHS was ringing, and I found myself moving to answer it before I was even fully awake. It seemed my subconscious was well aware of him asleep next to me even when I was still half asleep and far from capable of making the decision to let him sleep.

"General Sephiroth is indisposed", I said to the phone, my voice only slightly groggy. Even as I said the words I could hear him shifting his weight just slightly, signaling me he too had been woken by the sound. That didn't mean I needed to let him get right to work before he was even out of bed. "Unless your matter is of vital importance or of extreme urgency, leave a message with me or call again later."

"Valkyria?" Veld, huh...

"Director Veld. What can I do for you?" Had it been anyone else, I would have simply told him to call back later, but Veld... He was one of the few people who had earned my regard.

"I was informed you had returned to the General, bloodied, and our surveillance showed you had – shortly after – accompanied the General to his quarters. When he failed to show up in his office as promptly as he usually does, I was made aware of this anomaly and possible cause for concern."

"We were sleeping. We were both sorely in need of a good night's sleep, I dare say." I could practically hear him thinking, wanting desperately to ask but not quite knowing how to, so I explained: "I'm not a summon anymore. I broke free."

"Broke free?" He said, his tone one of surprise and disbelief. "I have never heard of a summon becoming anything but one."

"What with me being the first artificial summon, is it any wonder I be the first to accomplish such feat? Who knows, perhaps proper summons can't do it. Perhaps the good Professor made a mistake of some sort." Or perhaps I had simply been the first summon to be suicidal enough to destroy my own summon materia even at the risk of death.

"Yes... Perhaps." He paused, and then said: "I will leave you to your rest."

"Wait", I quickly said, before he could end the call. "There's something I need you to do for me..."

There was a brief silence, and then he said: "Of course. What do you need?"

"Clothes", I said.

"Clothes", he repeated, clearly caught off guard.

"I made a bit of mess of the only set I had. If you could send one of your Turks to pick me up something to wear for the day, I would be eternally grateful. I can't exactly go shopping myself with nothing to wear and the General's clothes... They fit me poorly, as you can no doubt imagine." I paused, and added: "Someone other than the red-haired menace, please. I will not be held accountable for any violence I will be forced to do for some crass, ill-placed comment or leer."

"As it happens, I am in the possession of a set of clothes that I know will fit you perfectly", he said, and my eyebrow rose slightly. Kind enough not to keep me in suspense, he clarified: "The clothes you wore to the Gala. They remained while you were dispelled."

Huh... I had not seen that coming, though I probably should have. The clothes I had worn to the Gala hadn't been part of me the way the clothes I had worn in my death had been. They also hadn't been on me when I had been summoned by Fuhito's Ravens. Of course, everything on me that wasn't a part of the 'Summon Valkyria' would be left behind while the clothes that were part of the summon would get dispelled with me whether they were on me in that moment or not.

"I would be happy to bring them over", Veld offered.

"I will owe you one", I replied.

"Yes, you will", he replied with good humor, as was evident from his amused tone, and ended the call.

I let the PHS drop on the bed and turned to look at Sephiroth. He was lying on his back, mere inches from me and judging by how easy it was to simply roll over and settle down against him perfectly – with my knee on one of his thighs, my hand and face against his bare chest – this had been the position we had been sleeping in until the PHS had woken us up.

He didn't so much as twitch a muscle at my sudden move into his personal space, but I could practically feel his apprehension. He didn't comment, and for a while we laid there in silence, until he eventually asked: "How do you feel?"

How did I feel? Well now that he brought it to my attention, I was suddenly keenly aware of how uncomfortable I was feeling. My stomach felt empty – no wonder, since I hadn't properly eaten since before my death – and just about every other muscle everywhere felt sore. I also felt... boneless. The sort of loose feeling that makes you feel like never getting out of bed. It felt just like any ordinary weekend morning after a night of partying back when I was...

"Human", I replied. "I feel human."

Just acknowledging it made me feel the kind of vulnerable I hadn't felt since my death, since becoming a summon.

I could die now, I realized.

While being bound to a summon materia, death hadn't been a permanent thing, just a matter of being summoned again. But now... there was nothing keeping me from dying like any other living being.

I realized my heart was racing and my breath slightly quickened when I felt him shift under me minutely, no doubt reacting to the fear I was almost loudly broadcasting to his sensitive ears.

I took a few, deliberate slow breaths and tried to force myself into a state of calm.

I could die now, yes, but what was the point in reacting like this to that little fact? I had been mortal before. I had died before. It wasn't anything new. True, in this world and in the position I was in, it was more likely that someone would seek to end my life than in my old life, but I was also a whole lot more capable of protecting myself now.

It also wasn't necessarily a bad thing that I could only be killed once, as I had been shown by one of smug, heartless bastard very recently.

And then my blood was boiling. Just the thought of the man I had been forced to give a death far too kind had me in the grips of a rage that was utterly senseless. He wasn't here for me to make him pay. He wasn't anywhere, because I killed him just yesterday.

But I was furious. I wanted to hurt him, like he had hurt me. I wanted to hurt him so bad I...

I didn't really care if it was him or someone else, I just wanted to...

A large warm hand settled on top of my head and slowly stroked downwards gently, only to repeat the motion upon reaching the back of my neck.

The anger drained from me like water from an unplugged sink. The fear returned, though this time the object of my fear was different. I wasn't afraid of them. I was afraid of me.

I wasn't... I wasn't sure I could keep myself from just snapping and going on a killing spree. How ridiculous is that? Oh God, what kind of a senseless monster had that asshole Fuhito turned me into?

I wasn't sure I could trust my self-control, to trust myself at all. But I knew I could trust him. So, I said: "Be my restraint, Sephiroth. Make sure I don't cross the lines that shouldn't be crossed, because I'm not sure I can see those lines too clearly anymore."

He said nothing, but I could feel his full attention on me.

"I wasn't exactly the picture of self-restraint before, but I think that man might have broken me a little", I confessed, and oh how it killed me, admitting it, admitting that I might not be entirely in my right mind.

"Yes", he simply said, and I heard in that one word the full weight of a promise, and it brought me comfort like you wouldn't believe.

I felt tension leave my body, tension I hadn't even noticed until now, and felt his hand resting against the back of my neck, and though I'm sure he hadn't meant it as such, it felt a little like he was holding me in place, and it grounded me.

It grounded me.

O O O

We hadn't even made it out of bed yet, when the doorbell rang.

"That must be Veld", I muttered, swung myself up and strode over to the front door. It was Veld, indeed, and the way his eyes traveled up and down my form served to remind me of my state of dress.

Or my state of undress, you could say.

His eyes came up to meet mine from their little trip, and his eyebrow rose. I answered his look with a smile that showed exactly how little I minded him looking and how absolutely unembarrassed I was.

"I did tell you my clothes were just about unwearable, didn't I?" I reminded him a little cheekily. Before striking a subtle pose and asking: "It's a good look on me, though, isn't it?"

He cleared his throat. "It is definitely that", he agreed. "Has me wishing to one day see you in one of mine."

Ah yes, I could see how having a woman wear your shirt could stroke the territorial ego in a man.

I lifted a hand slowly and tugged at the white collar of the shirt he was wearing under his dark suit. "I'm sure you could bear to lend me more than one, what with you wearing one every day. Your closet must be full of them."

"Anytime", he said, an intense look in his dark eyes.

And yet… I couldn't quite ascertain whether his interest was genuinely based on desire for me or just my usefulness. It was strange how difficult it was, reading him. And unendingly interesting.

His eyes, they bore into me, and then he said: "I had every intention of offering you a job as one of my Turks – am offering you that – but… you would not take my offer, would you?"

He was right, of course, but I was interested in hearing his reasoning, so I only raised one brow in question.

"I thought that perhaps now that you're free you would be open to alternate positions in the company, more exciting, more respected positions. That you would be happy to leave the side of the man you were bound to, for so long. But that's not the case, is it?"

"I told you once… I insisted on him being the one to hold my materia", I reminded. "I chose him."

"And you choose him still", he said. His tone was calm, factual. He was accepting his loss in this matter with the kind of grace one couldn't but appreciate.

I smiled. "He might not be my summoner any longer, but he is still mine."

Veld's eyes left mine, looking over my shoulder instead, toward where I knew Sephiroth stood right by the bedroom doorway, present but not participating. The Head of the Turks was no doubt reading everything there was to read in the way the General held himself, and no doubt seeing more than most ever could in the man.

What he saw, I would probably never know, but it must have been something good, because Veld chuckled lightly and then handed me a bag, presumably with my clothes in it. "I am happy to have you back with us, Valkyria."

"I'm happy to be back", I simply replied.

He nodded, and I knew he understood the words that went unspoken. The horrors I had gone through.

"I gave Tseng the task of arranging for the essentials for you now that you are no longer a summon", he said. I suppressed the urge to snort at the way he skillfully dodged stating the sorry fact that I hadn't been considered a human with human rights before. "Expect him to come find you after he has finished arranging a contract with the company for you to sign."

"Fishing for another IOU from me?" I teasingly asked.

"Simply adding to the one you already promised me", he replied, and though his tone was light, I knew he would be cashing on it eventually. He might not be getting me as one of his subordinates like he wished, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be able to have me work with him in the future in exchange for the help he was giving me now. I didn't mind. "I will leave you and the General to enjoy the rest of your morning", he said and then left, closing the door behind him.

I turned and found Sephiroth watching me, just like I expected to. "Breakfast?" I asked, and caught him off guard with the fact that I needed to eat, judging by the slow blink that I received in response.

It would take time, before it truly sunk in. For him, for me, for anyone. I wasn't a summon anymore.

AN: I can honestly say were it not for the constant reminders (that are favorites, follows and especially reviews) that people are waiting for more, this chapter probably would not have gotten written quite yet. So thank you for all your support (and patience).

Posted on January 7th, 2018.