Was gonna post this maybe tomorrow, but Angeal's giving me his I-want-my-Puppy-back look and I have no defense against that.

Besides, cliffhangers are evil.

NOT WRATH OF GODS

Chapter 21 - A Desire That Reposes

Angeal felt himself stand, though he hadn't made any decision to do so. A warning tug from Crane told him to remain where they were, but no need - Commander Hewley, a man of decisiveness and action, was frozen in place, staring. He should have been experiencing simple joy to see his beloved student, simple concern at how pale and tired Zack looked, an uncomplicated obligation to get to his charge as quickly as possible and reassure him. But clouding his relief and love and anticipation to hold Zack again was a shame and an affront to the purity of those emotions all over again - the devastating and wrong appreciation of how blindingly beautiful the boy was.

As usual, Zack was oblivious to his own appearance, still wearing the white pajamas and slippers from the med lab and with his glossy spikes mussed from the bed. Zack was more attractive without trying to be than most people who put in their best efforts; maybe the teenager's indifference to his loveliness even added to it. But more importantly, Zack was obviously weakened, leaning on one side of the door frame to support himself. His striking blue eyes were bright against his white skin, and brighter still from gathering tears.

Though Zack had clearly addressed Rudner, his gaze locked on and met Angeal's, and when the mentor gave his student a comforting smile, the boy offered one of his own. It wavered, though, and from Zack's face it was clear that he was being overwhelmed by a lot of emotions at once. One thing Angeal knew for certain, as the others all (save Croft and Rudner) rose from their seats as though someone senior to them all had come in. And that was that Zack wanted to run to him, but would not. Because he was wearied enough from just walking, true, but even more because the boy was putting his teacher's reputation above his own needs.

Merritt Crane had stood when the other lawyers did, and softly warned Angeal "This isn't over just yet. Stay put. You can wait just a few more minutes to hug him, can't you?"

"I honestly don't know," Angeal murmured back.

"Zack, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be resting," Mr. Hahn admonished his client.

Zack didn't answer, but Hahn's voice apparently broke the boy out of his spellbound stare. Slowly, Zack took his eyes off Angeal, and first looked at his attorney blankly. Then he moved his dripping, crystal-blue gaze to the witness box, from which Rudner was watching him and recoiling in actual fear. Fear of a fellow SOLDIER who was six inches shorter, forty pounds lighter and drained by some unexplained malady...the hurt in Zack's innocent eyes nonetheless was like poisoned arrows.

"Why did you do this? What did Angeal ever do to you? What did I?"

Rudner looked away, staring darkly and scowling at his feet. Hahn rushed over to his client with an unseemly haste, saying "Since Fair is already here, Mr. Croft..."

"He may remain, but Mr. Hahn, advise your client to speak only when asked to do so." The senior attorney's eyes were much softer than his stern speech. "How are you feeling, Fair?"

"Better, sir, thank you."

"Commander Hathaway." The SOLDIER had hurried to Zack, to the seat where Hahn and Martin were settling the boy, and looked up when Croft addressed him. "For the moment, you are still Fair's in loco parentis guardian. Do you judge him well enough to be out of bed for a little while and to hear Mr. Rudner's confession?"

A pale hand seized Hathaway's wrist, and its owner whispered "Please, sir." Feeling a renewed sympathy for the thoroughly-whipped Commander Hewley, Hathaway sighed and nodded. He sat down between Hahn and Zack, with Dr. Martin on the boy's other side, forming a sort of protective shield all around him. Hathaway noticed that Zack was now looking at the floor, not Angeal, but sensed that the body next to him wanted very much to leap over these pew-like seats until it reached Angeal and the arms Zack had obviously been missing.

Just a bit longer, kiddo, and we'll have you home.

"If you please, Mr. Rudner, confess your crime clearly."

"I accused Commander Hewley falsely," Rudner's voice rose up from his slouching form. "I lied about seeing him molest Fair. And I guilted Lt. Kabe into keeping my secret."

Here he looked out into the defense section's rows of seats, where Kabe had gone earlier and remained. A few moments of silence passed between them, and facial expressions that no one present could quite decipher. They both turned away at the same time, though, both as if they could no longer bear to face the other any longer.

"Why did you do this?" Croft asked the witness.

Rudner's mouth hung open for a few moments before he spoke, and when the words came they were very unlike the arrogant boy's usual way of talking. "I...don't know, sir."

Kaplan stood up, not yet steady on his feet. "Request that the young man be ordered to mandatory counseling as well."

"So ordered. Do you have anything else to say, Mr. Rudner?"

"I'm sorry," the eighteen-year-old mumbled.

"You have the chance now to prove that with your future actions and behavior. You will be confined to your quarters until oh-nine-hundred tomorrow, Mr. Rudner, at which time you will report to the office of Executive Director Lazard. He and General Sephiroth will handle your discharge from the SOLDIER program."

"The...the general?" Rudner softly repeated, eyes shiny with fear.

"I doubt he'll injure you with a witness present, but if you like, I can have a clerk escort you," Croft said dryly. "In the meantime, I advise you to think about what you've done and begin writing those apologies. If there's no further business, I declare this case closed and express, on behalf of the legal department, our regret for the distress caused Commander Hewley and Lieutenant Fair. You may step down, Mr. Rudner."

A clerk was gestured forward and led Rudner out. This seemed to signal a flurry of movement all around that startled Zack in his lethargic state. Almost regally, Senior Attorney Croft swept down from his desk on the dais and hurried out, off to his next task. Crane and Hahn were shaking hands in turn with Mr. Callahan and thanking him for his work digging up Rudner's background. The young lawyer modestly insisted that they really had Kabe to thank, but smiled at the received praise anyway. At the mention of the helpful 2nd's name, the three lawyers looked around for Kabe to thank him as well, and caught a glimpse of him exiting quietly out the main door.

As he stepped out of everyone's sight, Kabe breathed a sigh of relief that he could at last seek the solitude he wanted. A hand grasping his shoulder made him jump, and he looked up from the floor to Kunsel's smirking face.

"When you feel ready for company, let me know and we'll hang out."

"I'm not going to stop being friends with Victor."

"If I can put up with Varley's snoring, I can handle that," Kunsel said wryly, and gave his fellow SOLDIER a playful shove.

Back inside the hearing room, the three victorious lawyers remained grouped together, talking softly about the follow-up work ahead of them. Every now and then, one or all cast sympathetic glances toward the prosecution's desk, which Kaplan was slumped over. Sanders had stayed by his side, a comforting hand on his arm, and was talking to him softly and receiving nods in response.

"Is there anything we can do?" Callahan whispered to the others.

"Maybe in time, when he's ready. Anyway," Crane said with a faint smile, "one victory a day is enough, I think."

On either side of Zack, his psychiatrist and temporary guardian had stood up, while he didn't budge, feeling so exhausted physically and mentally that he didn't know what he should do now, or what he was capable of. Dr. Martin quietly observed, shifting his penetrating eyes between his patient and the other side of the room. Commander Hathaway leaned down and touched Zack's shoulder.

"It's all over. It's okay now. Kid, what's wrong? I know you're in no condition to glomp, but I figured you'd even crawl to get over there."

"I started everything..."

"What?"

"The things people say...and believe...it wouldn't be like this if not for me," Zack murmured, hardly sounding like himself, harshly twisting the loose fabric of his shirt with his fingers. "Maybe...if I hadn't started hugging Angeal, this - "

"Your behavior didn't make false allegations, Zack," Dr. Martin said reasonably. "Rudner made the choice to do that on his own."

"Kid, believe me, Angeal doesn't do things he doesn't wanna do. Do you see him hugging everyone who wants to hug him? If he wanted you to behave differently, he'd tell you, that's how Angeal is."

"But..."

"He gets as much from you as you do from him, if not more," Hathaway said, softly and with certainty. "If you don't see that, Zack, you're the only one."

With that, the boy finally allowed himself to look directly across the room at his teacher. Patient as always, Angeal was watching him with his usual combination of quiet affection and puzzling concern. (Well, maybe not so puzzling right now.) But staying back, keeping distance though he plainly didn't want to. Drawing on the strength that Zack often forgot he had, he searched Angeal's earth-colored eyes for the answer and thought he saw guilt, maybe the same pain that was pricking at Zack's insides.

Also, Angeal didn't cry, but Zack had seen him close a few times, and he was close now. He had been holding back his own tears, but this realization made Zack's eyes flood before he knew what was happening. This was wrong. Why on Gaia was Angeal hurting so far away from him? And why wasn't Zack over there and trying to hug that gloom off his face?

Hands flew out to grip the seat directly in front of him for leverage. Necessity lent energy to Zack's limbs enough for him to pull himself to his feet. Hathaway reached to help him up, and Zack said determinedly "I can do it myself". The commander smiled, unsurprised, and moved aside to let him pass.

Angeal... Not wanting to appear any more helpless and in need than he was already feeling, Zack walked more slowly than he would have liked, and consciously didn't lean on anything he passed by for support. This became easier when Angeal's eyes locked on his, and they glowed gently, like the beam of a lighthouse guiding him home. The beginnings of tears had not left either of them, but for now, at least, the reuniting student and teacher could see each other clearly, needed to. Especially considering that Zack halted a few paces away, not yet quite over the idea that his touch had nearly damned Angeal and might do so again.

"I'm sorry about all this, Zack," Angeal spoke up first, with a strange timber to his voice that made it seem muffled, far away.

"It wasn't your fault - "

"Nor was it yours. Is that clear?' The momentary sternness evaporated the second Zack nodded, switching to concern when Angeal noticed the gesture had made the boy a little dizzy. "Are you all right, Puppy?"

That did it, the sound of his nickname that Zack had missed, and warm streams of wetness were coursing down his cheeks. Zack wouldn't have been all that embarrassed to admit the reason for this, but Angeal knew it already, no question about that. There was one confession, though, Zack couldn't hold back.

"I...missed you." Don't sob, don't sob... "A lot."

Angeal was in motion before he finished speaking. Had he had more warning, Zack might have been able to hold to his reservations about continuing to show each other affection in public, and his horrible aching willingness to give up the tactile part of their relationship to protect his teacher's reputation. But today especially, Zack was no match for the speed of a legend among 1sts. By the time he realized what was happening it had happened, Angeal's arms were protectively and wonderfully around him. Overjoyed and terrified, Zack emitted a sob that was half-laughter, and stiffened even as he gripped Angeal's upper arms.

The commander must have sensed the conflict Zack was feeling, because at once he bent his head to whisper "No one on this planet can tell me not to hug you, except for you. Understood?"

Face pressed tightly enough to Angeal's shirt to dry his eyes, Zack nodded, and pressed in even closer when a hand pet his hair encouragingly. The familiar stroke of those fingers soothed away tension that Zack had almost forgotten he was carrying, distracted as he'd been by fatigue and loneliness and the dreams that he both feared and secretly looked forward to. Breathing for what felt like the first time in days, Zack slipped his arms around Angeal's torso and soaked up the warmth and care he was being given.

Angeal, meanwhile, was determined to banish his Puppy's hesitation with certainty, and only lifted his head away from Zack's to flash a look of challenge at those who were subtly observing. The commander's own concern about touching was a different one, now that he realized his love for his student was more than platonic, but that didn't matter, he reminded himself. He was a natural at keeping his emotions controlled, no one need ever know that even in this courtroom that had exonerated him, Angeal nonetheless bore a guilt. But it was worth bearing for the rest of his life, anything was worth having Zack back safely in his arms.

Gaia, I sound like a lovesick teenager, Angeal scolded himself. Aloud he said gently, "It's all right, Puppy. I'm here."

Zack laughed. It was brief and shaky and half a whimper, but it was still a Zack-laugh, so Angeal drank it in gladly. "I know...I know."

"I'm sorry I had to leave you."

Zack looked up, charmingly innocent and sincere as always, and dislodged one arm to wipe his eyes with a sleeve. "Not your fault."

You know so little of my faults, Puppy, you trust me so much. I will keep it that way, no matter the cost. Gently pulling Zack to his side and keeping an arm around him, Angeal gestured Commander Hathaway over, and when he arrived said "Thank you, Hathaway. I hope Zack didn't give you much trouble."

"Trouble? Zack?" Hathaway smirked. "My pleasure. But I'm glad to be able to give him back."

Angeal nodded his gratitude once more. "Let's go, Zack, before you fall asleep on your feet."

"We can go home?"

"The med lab first. If they say it's okay, we can go home."

"I'm not tired," Zack mumbled, without grumpiness, though he was leaning on Angeal more and more with each passing second.

"Sure you're not, kid," Hathaway laughed.

Holding Zack securely to his side, Angeal headed for the main exit at the back of the room. As they passed the cluster of chatting lawyers, the commander paused and looked at each in turn, Merritt Crane last and longest.

"Thank you, for everything."

"Thank you," Zack softly echoed.

Hahn and Callahan smiled and nodded. Crane shook Angeal's offered hand and said, with a trace of laughter in his voice, "I work for ShinRa. It's too rare that I get to defend an innocent man."

azazaza

The knock on his apartment door surprised the executive director, and as he rose from the couch and approached the entrance, he wondered who it could possibly be. Lazard was normally in his office all afternoon on weekdays; today he had begun early and worked quickly so he could leave for lunch break and not return. Years of training himself to focus on work in his office got in the way when he wanted to think deeply and intently of Sephiroth. He had seen little of the general since the investigation started. If Sephiroth needed some space and time, well, Lazard could accept that. He would use the opportunity to figure out how to close the distance Sephiroth had recently increased between them.

Emotional distance, that is. Lazard didn't have mako in his system to sense the presence of SOLDIERs. But somehow he wasn't startled to open the door to this rare interruption and see silver hair that reflected dull corridor light, and silver eyes that looked through or past him. Lazard rarely felt that Sephiroth was trying to see him and nothing else.

"Sephiroth. Come in." Trying not to sound too eager (or desperate), Lazard stepped aside and gestured to the living room.

The general was always a bit reluctant when entering anyone's private quarters, even those belonging to a many-times sexual partner. Every one of his soundless steps was weighted with this hesitation, or some other kind. Lazard watched him move in a straight line from the door toward the window seat in the opposite wall, waiting, and he started when Sephiroth abruptly turned (his speed was hard if not impossible to get used to) and fixed a serious stare in his direction. Not at him.

"I know," the general said flatly.

"...know? Know what?"

"What you and ShinRa have deemed unnecessary to inform me of. I have seen the bodies, and the brands on their stomachs."

The executive's face wore a peculiar expression. Sephiroth wasn't sure what one would call it, but it reminded him of battle, of what subordinates looked like when they brought unpleasant news. Sort of a prolonged, guilty flinch.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. The president didn't want rumors flying about a connection to Wutai, and Genesis travels there whenever he gets the chance, and as fond as we are of him he has such a big mouth..." Lazard trailed off, and smiled sadly where a frown would have been more fitting. "How did you see them?"

"The morgue. Dr. Brennan let me in."

"He wasn't supposed to."

"He prefers not to displease me."

Now Lazard did frown. "Did you...spend much time with him?"

Jealousy was one of the few emotions Sephiroth had had lots of practice observing, so he recognized it at once. "Do you dislike everyone I interact with?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Lazard too had learned - and one important lesson had been that with Sephiroth, the simple, direct truth was usually what he wanted. "I resent other people who are close to you," he confessed.

"Dr. Brennan was only near to me for the few moments during which we spoke, and when I brushed past him to access the morgue."

"I didn't mean physically close."

"Ah. The doctor is merely an acquaintance, one I rarely see." Sephiroth watched Lazard's face for signs of relief, and thought he saw it. "I am capable of concealing information from Genesis. If the president believes otherwise - "

"Sephiroth..." There was that wince again, anticipating this time. "I was the one who urged the president not to tell you about the evidence of a connection to Wutai."

No visible hurt showed on the general's face, but the soft silver of his eyes chilled to cold steel. "You do not trust me."

"I do! Sephiroth, I do." Lazard groped for Sephiroth's hand, and when permitted to hold it, warmed the cool skin lovingly in his fingers. "It's not about that. I know..." He cleared his throat. "I know that Genesis means a great deal to you. I thought it would be awkward for you to have to hide something from him."

Sephiroth was unsure what the correct response to this would be. Annoyance, for the implication that he couldn't keep work and private life separate? Coldness, to avoid showing the wrong emotion? Or gratitude, for Lazard treating him like a human? Leaning toward the last but hesitant, Sephiroth forced his stiff arm to relax, and curled his fingers around Lazard's hand. Just slightly, but he immediately noticed the director smile.

"Besides," Lazard continued, his tone cheerier, "there was already speculation that the linked acts of terrorism had a Wutaian source. The symbol branded on the bodies supports that, but it hasn't given us anything more specific."

Puzzlement spread over Sephiroth's face, and Lazard quickly registered the cuteness of his expression before saying "Sephiroth?"

"Not specific? Surely you know the character's meaning?"

"Of course. In the written language of Wutai it signifies 'fukushuu', 'vengeance'. Wait...does this mean something to you?"

In response, the general requested paper and an ink brush, which Lazard willingly retrieved and set out on the coffee table. The two men sat down on the couch facing it, and Sephiroth's long fingers skillfully traced the discussed symbol perfectly. Lazard was admiring but no longer surprised every time he found something Sephiroth was talented at.

"'Fukushuu', right?"

"Currently, yes. As Old Wutainese gradually evolved into modern Wutainese, the writing system underwent changes also. New characters came into use, some were discarded completely, and some pairs of words even switched characters with each other. This caused confusion until about a hundred years ago, when Lord Kodo, an influential ruler, passed a decree formally adopting the changes. Since then, old and modern Wutainese have been very similar yet separate languages."

"So," Lazard said slowly, "you're saying this character means something else in Old Wutainese?"

"Yes, 'ai'."

"'Love'?" Lazard chuckled shortly. "An odd thing to confuse with vengeance."

"When Old Wutainese became its current self, the characters for 'ai' and 'fukushuu' were switched."

Lazard nodded slowly, feeling a bit confused. "Let me get this straight. This symbol used to mean 'love', and now means 'vengeance'."

"Yes."

"So, there is a character that now means 'love', but used to mean 'vengeance', the word indicated by the brand on the dead ringleaders' stomachs. Is this important, Sephiroth? We haven't been able to find any significance in the use of this character as a symbol."

"That is because the significance belongs to the older character used to write 'vengeance'." The general picked up the brush again and swept it over the paper in brisk, smooth strokes. "This character, too, is 'vengeance', and it is the reason the word means something."

Lazard adjusted his glasses and leaned in. He was not expecting to see what Sephiroth meant, as he could not read any Wutainese, and was about to ask for clarification. But something vaguely familiar about this second character, this earlier 'vengeance', leapt off the paper at him.

"Wait," he murmured, "where do I know this from?"

"Reports from years ago," Sephiroth answered, without the hinting lilt many people would use. "It too was branded on the stomachs of ShinRa's enemies, a specific group."

Realization brightened Lazard's dark, thought-creased face like the metaphorical light bulb over one's head. He turned to face Sephiroth's solemnity with disbelief, and was about to ask how, how on Gaia...but the general mistook his shock for distress and awkwardly, but kindly, touched his forearm. Had their discussion not taken a serious turn, this new and troubling information might have been discarded in order to pursue more touching. To remove all the vexing distance between them, Lazard edged closer and put his arm around Sephiroth, giving his fingers access to the silver hair that spilled down his back.

"Could someone else be using the symbol?"

"I know of no other enemy organization likely to use both 'love' and 'vengeance' as a calling card," Sephiroth said, unconsciously shifting to make his hair more accessible. "This is why I need to be told everything."

"I agree." Lazard looked into his face with a soft smile, distracted from the troubling new information by Sephiroth's beauty and proximity. "I hate hiding anything from you."

"Perhaps you should inform the president."

"Yes, of course...can I see you tonight?"

"Genesis is planning a celebratory dinner for Angeal and Zack and is demanding my presence, but he has to speak to Angeal first about what day would be best. If it's not tonight, then I will be free after eight." The general willingly closed his eyes and accepted the slow kiss Lazard drew him into, but pulled back after a few moments. "The president should be notified - "

"I don't care about the president," Lazard said, a little harshly, but immediately afterward his tone softened to one of apology. "I'm sorry. Just stay with me a little longer, please."

A brief pause. "Very well. But a short time only. I have an appointment in the labs in twenty minutes."

"With the doctors? Is it about Zack?"

"It does concern Zack," Sephiroth conceded, sounding oddly hesitant to be telling Lazard this. "I don't want the medical lab's staff to call Dr. Hojo in for his opinion on Zack's case. Therefore I've decided to speak to him alone, so any suggestions he might have can be passed through me to the medical team. Zack need not suffer his presence...what are you doing?"

As Sephiroth flatly said all this, Lazard had been pulling him further and closer into his embrace, then leaning toward the back of the couch. This had put Sephiroth in the strange position of being held against Lazard's chest with his head on the director's shoulder. Awkwardly, Sephiroth made to pull away, but Lazard's hands were stroking him with a puzzling urgency. It seemed to the general that this touching was a quiet pleading for...what?

Lazard, meanwhile, understood that Sephiroth was unused to being held like this, but that only made him more determined to do it. Had the general ever been held this way, even as a child? He never spoke of his childhood, but the little Lazard knew sounded very lonely.

"What are you doing?" Sephiroth repeated.

Lazard's fingers combed soothingly through his silver hair, and though he'd intended to be more nonchalant about this, he couldn't help but clutch Sephiroth to him in a protective way. He did manage to refrain from making hushing noises as he lay his cheek down on the general's head.

"Lazard." Sephiroth's voice was progressing from questioning to cautioning.

"Let me speak to Hojo. I won't understand him as well as you, but I can take notes of what he says, so you need not..."

"Need not...?" Lazard's sympathetic tone was both perplexing Sephiroth and beginning to anger him. "Do you doubt my ability to obtain information from the doctor?"

"Of course not, I would just rather you not have to deal with him any more than necessary."

This position continued to be awkward for Sephiroth, it felt like weakness, but his curiosity about something new made him willing to tolerate it a little longer. "It is necessary. Dr. Hojo does not willingly share information with most people. He will be more forthcoming with me."

"I don't want you to have to see that monster," the director blurted out. "It's bad enough you had to be brought up by that snake."

Is he pitying me? Stung, Sephiroth easily disentangled himself from Lazard's clutches and sat up, fixing him with a chilly stare. "My past is none of your concern. It's not important."

"It is to me," Lazard said bravely. "It's part of you."

"A part that is none of your business."

"I'm sorry." Lazard waited, looking pathetically forlorn, until Sephiroth accepted with a brief nod. "I just wanted to help. I know you hate him - "

Sephiroth fixed him with a look of warning, a look that plainly told Lazard he was skating on thin ice.

" - um, because everyone does. But of course, if you prefer to handle it yourself, General..."

Establishing a protective distance with the use of rank titles - a trick Sephiroth knew well. Clearly Lazard was attempting contrition despite the discomfort it caused him, and seeing this eased Sephiroth's previous urge to get away from those affectionate hands. He was not heartless, he had no desire to hurt, even when battle made it necessary to kill. Why not give Lazard the little he could?

"As I said, I have a short time before I must leave. But if you think the president should be updated immediately - "

Sephiroth would not admit to himself the relief he felt to see Lazard brighten. If they were quick, there was enough time to...but oddly, Lazard didn't seem to have sex on his mind every moment as the general's many fans did. The director brought their bodies close together, like comrades sharing warmth, and though Sephiroth was by far the stronger of the two, Lazard took the lead at such times. He seemed to value moments like these, when Sephiroth accepted his embracing arms and consented to be comforted.

Comforted about what, Sephiroth wasn't exactly sure. Lazard appeared to see through his reputation for strength and coldness, to the lonely child who'd taken on that persona in order to survive.

Sorry if the thing about the symbols is confusing...I barely understand it myself...TBC!