Chapter 29

His vision bled and it was only her faint whimper that kept him from gripping her arms too hard.

"Who?" he demanded.

"The mother. I—she didn't say it in those words but…she—she said you're getting married. I don't understand. You said they couldn't come after you anymore."

"They can't."

"Then why would she say that? What else happened today?"

"A lot."

"What?"

"It's not your concern."

"It is if Joanna has to deal with it." Dark eyes flashed, a spark through the tears. "Don't talk to me like I'm stupid."

A shiver ran down his spine and he slowly let her go.

"I wasn't—I'm sorry. I didn't intend to." He glanced at somewhere over her head. "We don't own the land. We pay rent. Land rights, water rights, air rights. They own it all. And they've raised the payments to ridiculous amounts."

"You said they were going to leave you alone. They can't come after you."

He scoffed and looked towards the house.

"They're waiting for me to crawl back to them." He shook his head. "I bought us time. Until I can think of something else."

"So you are getting married. Excuse me." The shaman made to turn away but he caught her arm again.

"Let go," she said. "I have work to do."

"No, you don't. Shiushan, look at me."

She kept her eyes lowered.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked softly. His chest tightened and he slipped his finger under her chin.

"Look at me." He waited, and would wait as long as it took for her to raise her eyes. At last, she met his gaze even as she clenched her skirt in her fists.

"I am not marrying Sophie Platagnet," he said firmly.

"But if they're in danger—"

"That viper's nest would control everything and I would have to watch them throw troops into pointless, self-serving wars." He let his voice drop. "I will not condemn my men to die."

The shaman licked her lips and lowered her eyes to somewhere around his throat.

"I can't compete with her."

He blinked.

"Compete." So that's what this was about. "What have I ever done to make you think you were competing with her?"

"I…"

The sound of a woman singing reached their ears and he watched as her face tightened with pain. Then, just as quickly, her eyes hardened. When she looked up at him, he was suddenly back in Wutai, back at the festival, back where she had to grit her teeth and work and fight.

"You trust me," she said.

"Of course."

Taking a breath, Yanna cupped his face in her hands and pressed her mouth to his. He inhaled sharply. This—what? She gently sucked on his lip. He shivered, tasting honey, and his arms wrapped around her of their own accord.

Then she was gone, stepping out of reach with a flush on her skin that made him ache.

"You have to take care of your boys," she said, a little breathless. "I know that. But if there's room for me…think about it?"

"I—"

"I'll see you back at the room. Good night, General."

?

It was pushing three in the morning when the five of them staggered back to the suite. Sephiroth wanted nothing more than to just collapse in his bed and sleep for four or five days but he could still smell all the people on his clothes. Curling his lip, he threw his clothes on a chair and got into the shower. The hot water stung at first but he forced himself to breathe, to let himself relax. Too late, he realized he could still taste Yanna on his lips.

He turned his face into the water and blanked his mind until he was back in his room. But here, away from the steam and scent of soap, he could smell cinnamon as if she were in the same room. He rolled over onto his stomach, willing his body not to respond. It had been a ridiculously stressful week, even with his position of dealing with apocalyptic events every other day. He was just overreacting. There would be plenty of time to think about it later, after he got some sleep.

Setting his jaw, the general deliberately closed his eyes only to have images of her in that gown dance on his eyelids. His blood hummed with remembered touches, whispers of heat and silk. He had been kissed before but it was always unwanted attention from the odd teenager or, worse, the girl's mother. There was no emotion, no passion beyond the burning need to get away and gargle something corrosive.

Tonight had been different.

Growling, he rolled onto his back and glared up at the ceiling. Ten feet separated them, maybe less if she slept on this side of the bed. It would be so easy to just go in there and lose himself. He wanted to kiss her again, wanted it so badly it unnerved him. Fine, terrified him. He wanted to taste her, drown in her scent, earn those little noises he'd never heard. He'd have to be careful, of course, to avoid any chance of pregnancy but—

His heart stopped. Goddess. His lungs started to collapse under the thought and he curled in on himself. That was it then.

He had to say 'no.'

?

"Morning, Seph," Genesis yawned as he padded into the kitchen. Sephiroth ignored him in favor of his scalding coffee.

"'And good morning to you too, Genesis.'" The redhead poured himself some coffee and started doctoring it to his liking. "'How was your night last night?' Oh, fine, thanks for asking. How was yours? 'Great, actually. One of the best. Got to dance with a gorgeous woman most of the night and maybe even got lucky.'"

"Who got lucky?" Yanna came out of her room in a simple, yellow cotton dress and got a mug down for herself. "You didn't break anything, did you?"

Sephiroth gripped the mug to stop his hands from shaking.

"No, darling, not yet. There's plenty of time for that when you all go to the beach or something."

"You're not coming?"

"Not yet."

"Gen!" She smacked him then sat down at the table. "Good morning, General."

"Morning." He took a long drink of the coffee, focusing on the painful sting of it burning his throat.

"Did you sleep well?"

He shrugged, saved from answering when Angeal and Missy came out of their room.

"Awesome!" Angeal said. "I can start breakfast. Wait, where's Ciss?"

"She'll be out in a minute. I vote crepes."

"You're getting waffles and you'll be thankful for them."

"Yes, Dad."

Pushing his chair back, Sephiroth set his mug in the sink and grabbed his wallet.

"I'll be back later."

"Huh?" Missy frowned. "You want us to wait breakfast for you?"

"No. I'll find something else."

"Seph—"

The protests died with the click of the door.

?

"What was that about?" Missy asked, putting her hands on her hips. "Is he always a jerk in the morning?"

"Yes, but that's not the point." Angeal glanced at the red general but he shook his head.

"I think it might be my fault," Yanna said quietly.

"What's your fault?" Cissnei plopped into Genesis' lap. "What happened?"

Yanna looked over at Missy, her eyes starting to sting.

"Oh." The teacher came to sit down next to her. "So you—"

"Yeah. Guess I have my answer."

"It's not an answer until he opens his mouth and says something," Angeal said firmly. "He's an ass. We know this. Now come help me with breakfast."

"I can help," Genesis said.

"You can't even say that with a straight face."

"No, I can't." The redhead grinned. "Oh, did you guys hear about what happened to the O'Rourke boy?"

?

Guilt was an interesting emotion. Most feelings were just that, something a person felt, emotions illiciting physical responses. Some were even highly motivating. Anger. Fear.

But guilt was a creature all its own. In his almost thirty years of existence, nothing was nearly so effective at crushing a man's soul. Responsibility over letting his men die. Accountability over killing men in the line of duty. And this. He never had a word for their relationship, never thought it mattered. They just were.

Except it hadn't been that simple. This whole mess had been shot to hell before they even started and it wasn't just because the World-Breaker and his shaman had fallen through the sky. No, Hojo had destroyed everything long before that.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he answered it without really thinking.

"Sephiroth."

"Hey, sweetheart!"

"Marilyn." The general missed a step. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, dear. Can't complain. I'm sorry I haven't called sooner. We have Heather and the boys this weekend."

"Are you having a good time?"

"Oh, of course. The boys are asking about you, want to see you again. Apparently, some kids at school don't believe that they actually know you. Anyway, enough about me. How are you, sweetheart?"

"Fine."

"Good, good. Having fun at the ball? We couldn't make it this year but I'm sure you figured that out."

"Yes."

Marilyn tutted on the other end of the phone.

"Something happened. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You may be able to use that tone on your troops, young man, but remember who taught you that trick."

Sephiroth couldn't help but grin as he sat down on a low concrete wall out of the way of pedestrians.

"I'm fine, Marilyn, really."

"Are you sure?"

Guilt twisted his stomach again, the nausea sending the world into a tilt. He closed his eyes.

"I've been better," he said quietly.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Tell me anyway."

Sighing, he rubbed his eyes.

"I…think I'm doing the right thing but…I'm going to hurt someone."

"Do you want to hurt them?"

The thought of Yanna crying made him sick.

"No."

"And you're sure it's best for them?"

"Yes. I…" He swallowed. "It's better than the alternative."

Marilyn was quiet for a moment.

"Is it about your lady friend?"

He inhaled sharply and she must have heard it because she hummed.

"I thought so," she said. "Tell me about her."

"James met her."

"I want you to tell me."

"She…she's very passionate about…helping people. She's studying to get her doctorate in osteopathy and I think she's almost finished. She comes over sometimes for dinner. Sometimes I'll cook but usually she wants to. Says I don't know what good food is."

"My kind of lady."

"Yes, you'd like her. And she's great with…children…" He choked, glanced towards the sea.

"Sephiroth?"

He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat.

"I can't do this," he said, as much to her as to himself. "It won't work."

"Sounds like you're scared. But that's okay. Love is scary. I remember the first time I realized I loved James. Had a temper tantrum in the shower."

"What?"

"Yeah, terribly mature, I know, but darn it. I had a career I was trying and I didn't have time for this and I didn't want to get tied down and then I caught myself imagining what it would be like to wake up next to him and it didn't scare me. I think that scared me more than anything, if that makes sense."

"A little." Sephiroth looked out at the sea and the growing number of tourists claiming different spots with garish umbrellas.

"James told me about your mother."

"You're my mother." The words fell out before he could stop them.

"Oh sweetheart." There were tears in her voice but he didn't regret those. "Sephiroth, we love you and we've tried to do the best we can by you…"

"You have. I'm grateful."

"Hush, and let me finish. We've tried to do our best but I know they took a lot more from you than we could ever fix. Don't let them take this."

"This is my decision."

"Is it?"

Sighing, the general walked a little ways onto the beach, around one of the restaurants, and leaned back against the wall. Here, hidden in shadow, he could almost believe he was alone.

"I could be sterile." The admission burned like acid and he waited for the inevitable string of pity and concern. Marilyn was quiet for a moment then she surprised him again, this time with just a calm question.

"Do you know for sure?" she asked.

"No. But with all they did to me, I'd say it's an accurate assumption."

"Have you talked to her about this?"

"No." He looked up at the too-blue sky, cringing at the brightness. "She wants a family."

"She can't have that with you? Sweetheart, there are a lot of options if you can't have kids."

"I can't put her through that."

"That's not up to you, dear."

"Maybe not. But it's something I can control."

"Is that what this is about? Losing control?"

"Marilyn."

"Sephiroth. If this is the only reason you're hesitating, then that's all the more reason to talk to her."

"I can't."

"Do you love her?"

His chest buckled, all the air driven out of him with that one question. He folded his arm around himself. It was too much. He wasn't equipped to handle any of this. He was a soldier. A puppet. A broken toy Shinra couldn't afford to throw away. Toys weren't real.

"Sephiroth?"

His mind went back to how she felt up against him, how she'd leaned into him at the piano, how her eyes lit up for the little things he did. He couldn't breathe. Crushed glass lined his throat.

"Answer me, sweetheart."

"Yes." It was all he could do to stay upright. One move, one misstep and the world would drop out from under him. Yes, the man covered in blood loved a queen.

"It doesn't make a difference," he said, his voice hoarse.

"I think it makes all the difference. Go talk to her. I know it sounds cheesy and not enough but this isn't just about you."

"I'm not that brave."

"If you go talk to her, you'll be the bravest man in the world. Call me and tell me what she says. Love you, sweetheart."

The line went dead and he stared at the black screen for a long, long time.