Author's notes: I had a lot of fun writing this. I think Tifa's POV was actually the hardest, since I was trying surmise the situation –what happened after the fight— so that the story wouldn't drag longer than necessary. Anyhow, thanks you for all those who have lent me your support!

Edited: 1/8/2015

~Enjoy and don't forget to review!

"Mystic dreams, that came to soon

A heart that streams, and makes me swoon

Golden eyes, that look beyond

The skies that rise, the voice that spawned

And yet how late, love came about

Became a weight, there is no doubt

So just before I meet my doom

I must confide, my love is yours"

-Giselle Gonzalez (FE7: The Beginning of the End)-

"One Winged Angels"

By: FenixPhoenix

Chapter 34: "The Final Piece"

Tifa Lockhart sighed upon listening to Sephiroth's report. The three former SOLDIER had failed, yet again, in finding the location of the Jenovan warriors. It had been three weeks since the attack on the Shera and the subsequent kidnapping of Cid's son. Since then, Tifa had taken complete control of the ship, especially given that its official pilot was reluctant to leave his wife's side.

The first thing she'd ordered had been to try and locate the missing babe. Sephiroth had thus shared a strategy he'd used before, which was using their Jenova cells to track other users nearby. Though they were still not quite on friendly terms, Sephiroth had taught Cloud how to use his Jenova cells with Genesis listening in and adding explanations here and there. After Cloud had been successful in understanding the concept, Tifa had ordered the ship in a journey around the world while the three warriors focused on locating their targets. All efforts had been futile and Tifa found herself, this time, reluctant to further risk their wellbeing –for using their Jenova cells in this way took a great toll on their strength.

"Perhaps it is time to consider other options," Reeve offered, exhaustion evident in the half-moons under his eyes. Tifa knew that some of that was due in large part to how Rie had taken the bleak situation. Tifa couldn't blame him, she was worried as well, they all were.

After their attack, Rie had found herself on the receiving end of Cid's lashing tongue despite her insistence that she'd truly made an effort to stop what happened. Cid, however, had been so consumed by grief, anger and despair that Rie -by acknowledging that she'd been impotent against Raphael- had just been the outlet needed to release some of his pent-up frustration. Though Tifa did not approve of what Cid had done, part of her understood it. She only wished that he would have blamed them all in equal amounts rather than piling it all on Rie.

"I'm in agreement," Sephiroth interrupted her train of thought. "Wherever they're hiding we have been unable to locate them through my method. I doubt we'll have better luck if we keep this up."

"You're right." Heaving a long sigh, Tifa turned towards the pilot standing behind the Shera's controls. "Rodriguez, set a course for the WRO."

"Aye, aye, mam," the young pilot gave a smart salute and proceeded to do as told, "Setting course for the Eastern Continent. We'll get there by nightfall today."

"Are you going to make the announcement?" Reeve queried after a short pause.

It was customary to announce the Shera's moves through the speakers so that the personal in the ship was on the loop about what was going on. Tifa, however, didn't think it was a good idea to do so right now, especially considering the Highwinds' situation.

"Not this time." She spared a glance his way. "I know Cid. If I announce the decision he'll think we're giving up on the search for his son," she reasoned, making her way towards the door with Sephiroth silently on tow. "This is something that I better explain to him in person."

"Spoken like a true leader," Reeve said, smiling tightly before excusing himself to go speak with the current pilot.

"It's a good idea. I'm sure Cid will appreciate it," Sephiroth told her as soon as they'd stepped out, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. Tifa smiled at him and took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. She had a feeling that what came next was going to be tough and she was glad he would be there to lend his support.

As they walked down the hallway, Tifa felt the stress that had accumulated on the back of her neck increasing to the point that it was becoming painful. There were so many things that needed her attention that she was at a complete loss as to where to even start. In all honesty, she was unused to command and the blow Raphael had delivered made her feel even more unqualified. Her victory over the swarm of monsters had been short lived. In fact, reflecting upon it, it hadn't been a victory at all since it had been nothing but a distraction from the real attack. An attack that had wounded them all deeper than the monsters could have.

"I wish… I wish they would at least name him," Tifa revealed suddenly, surprising even herself. Granted, it was something that had been bothering her, but she'd always been careful to keep her thoughts to herself. "I mean… I… I…" She closed her mouth, her teeth grinding. What to say now? Even if part of her understood Shera's reluctance to give her missing child a name, another part of her was profoundly disturbed. She didn't like calling him 'the baby' as if he was some unimportant nameless being.

Sephiroth glanced at her when she remained silent. His eyes were clear of judgment and that made her breathe a little easier, "I know what you mean, but their decision is understandable considering-"

"But it's like she's giving up already!" Tifa countered and immediately regretted her words. Who was she to judge? If something like that were to have happened to her, would she have done any different? She wanted to believe that she would, but she would never know, she never wanted to know. "F-forget it, please. I was just being inconsiderate… The stress is getting to me, is all."

Sephiroth's expression softened. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a tight hug. She'd needed it. "It'll be alright, Tifa. We'll find a way."

She allowed herself a moment of weakness, holding onto him as though he was her only shelter. Afterwards, she pulled away, smiled and thanked him before continuing on her way. She couldn't afford more than a moment and she knew that soon not even a moment would be allowed. She was the Commander now and she needed to be the pillar of strength for her people.

Sephiroth fell into step behind her, his presence, like always, bringing a sense of comfort to her otherwise tumultuous emotions. When she reached the Highwinds' room, she stopped to gather her scattered wits. Tifa closed her eyes, took a deep breath, clenched and unclenched her hands for a second before knocking on the steely door. She knew that if she wanted, she could just push the button and walk right in –she was one of the few people with the privilege of having access to the entire ship, after all—but she knew better than to intrude.

The door opened to reveal a disheveled looking Cid. The stubble on his cheeks and chin was thicker and longer than she'd ever seen it before. He looked pale and slim and she knew that if he kept this up, he would fall as ill as Shera. Yet, Tifa had not the heart to order him to take a shower and eat a good meal. And rest? Hah! Who was she kidding! She doubted that he was getting more than a couple of hours of sleep and that wasn't going to change anytime soon.

Cid's eyes lit with hope when he took them both in. He stepped aside and ushered them in with a jerky motion of his hands. He was in serious need of a cigarette or sleep, maybe both. Tifa shifted her weight when, turning to face the man, she was confronted with Cid's blue, expectant eyes. When she looked away she detected the immediate change in his aura. His shoulders slumped and his eyes dulled.

Tifa didn't like it. This image was just wrong. "I've ordered the ship to return to the WRO headquarters," she told him, tone neutral.

"What! The fuck you are!" Cid hissed, "Goddamit, Tifa! You're the only one that I would trust my family's life with and you're fuckin' desertin' me! You stoppin' the search, aren't you! Fuck, you know what, I'll do it myself!" Sephiroth barred his way when Cid tried to leave. Blue eyes lit with fury and Tifa decided that, if anything, she preferred that to the dullness from before. "Fuck you, asshole! Get outta the fuckin' way or I'll pummel your ass into the lifestream where you came from!"

"Cid," Tifa warned gently but commandingly, "Calm down."

"Fuck you! Tellin' me to fuckin' calm down! You guys don't give a shit ab-" The sound of Tifa's hand connecting with Cid's cheek seemed to take a lifetime to die.

"You said you trusted me!" She had wanted her voice to sound calm, but she was tired and she hated seeing the pain in his eyes –no, not the pain, the hopelessness. It was as if he was just waiting for the corpse of his baby! "Do you not know me, Cid? Would you really think that I would ever give up on your child! That I would ever abandon you in your time of need!"

She saw his face twisting like a child's, his eyes welling with tears, his body trembling under the ruthless onslaught of his emotions. Tifa gave a step forward and it was all it took to finally break him. Cid pulled her to him with a force that baffled her, with a need that tightened the strings around her heart. She hugged him back tightly, wishing to keep him from breaking into too many pieces, else they would be unable to put him back together. His baby would need this man strong; Shera needed him to hold on!

His sobs and the moisture of his tears moved her like nothing ever had before. Her arms tightened their hold and she hushed him like she'd done Denzel when the boy had woken after a particularly vivid nightmare. Raphael, you are cruel, she found herself thinking, hating how easily he had reduced one of her strong warriors into a sobbing child. It was as infuriating as it was painful.

"I'll never give up on your child, Cid. I will never rest until you have him in your arms again," Tifa promised. The man pulled away, brushing at his eyes, clearly embarrassed by his display. He recovered some of his composure and, when she knew he was back in control, she explained to him that she'd just received word that Reno and Rude had procured some files that might lead them to Raphael's HQ, which was why they needed to go back to the WRO.

Cid nodded in understanding, apologized for his harsh words and asked her if there was anything he could do. Tifa shook her head. The least she wanted was to keep Cid away from Shera when it wasn't necessary. It was clear that they both needed each others' support and his wife was, by far, taking this blow harder than the rest.

"Just… Cid, try to get some rest and keep Shera from refusing any more meals," Tifa placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "We can't afford having her or you fall ill. You guys need to be strong for your child. It's not a matter of whether he'll come back safe to you or not, is just a matter of when. And I promise I will have him back as soon as I can."

"T-thanks, Teef. I'll take care of her," Cid said, his blue orbs glinting with the beginnings of hope. He patted her hand once and nodded Sephiroth's way curtly before turning around and heading to the back of the room, where they could see Shera's balled form on the bed. Tifa wondered if she'd heard her husband breaking. She hoped she didn't. Too much despair, Tifa knew, would be the end of her.

Motioning to Sephiroth they left the room. The image that had greeted her when she'd reached Shera's room after the attack was, even now, etched into her mind. It had been a shock finding her covered in blood and crying inconsolably on the bed. Rie, for her part, had been standing on a corner, unmoving, unsure of what to do. Her body had been bruised here and there but she was otherwise unharmed, a thing that somewhat bothered a part of Tifa. This was the second time that Rie had escaped unscathed a meeting with Raphael and she couldn't help but wonder why.

"We'll find him, right?" Tifa murmured, forcibly pulling herself out of her morbid thoughts.

Sephiroth took her hand and squeezed, "If anyone can find a way, it's you."

Tifa felt her resolution increasing at his words. They had dealt with painful stuff before and they'd pull through, so why would this be any different? Not to mention, she had a hell of a team. There was no way in hell that any of them would allow harm to come to the missing babe. No, they would not fail, she would not allow herself to even think of the possibility. She was their leader now and, more importantly, she believed in them.

That night they reached the base. WRO members came to greet them and they were led to their rooms. Tifa didn't get much rest, but she was at least glad to note that the bed was much more comfortable than the one on the ship.

A week later, Tifa parted ways with Sephiroth. He'd been charged with training some recruits by Reeve and, though he wasn't very thrilled by the idea, he'd accepted without needing much coaxing. Tifa guessed that, though he was better at hiding it, Raphael's move had delivered a blow at him as well. After all, Sephiroth was supposed to be the most brilliant strategist of Gaia, was he not?

Tifa scowled. The more she thought about Raphael the more her mood soured. To think I even thought that maybe you weren't so bad! Kicking herself mentally for her past impression, Tifa made her way towards Reeve's office. She found the man, who by the looks of it had been up and about since way earlier than her, stepping into the elevator one floor above from her.

"Mornin'," Tifa greeted.

"Good Morning, Tifa. Did you sleep well?" he asked and she was sure that he could probably detect her tiredness just as easily she could detect his. Truth be told, nobody had been getting any sleep, not since that day.

"I slept as best I could," she confided and, wanting to change the subject, asked, "By the way, have your researchers extracted anything important from the files that Reno and Rude brought back?" The Turks had returned shortly before they had and, by orders of Reeve, the documents had been handed to the WRO's Intelligence division.

"They are still cataloguing the information, but I've already received some reports that look promising," Reeve declared, signaling for her to step into his office once he's opened the door. "I'll send them to you after we finished reviewing where we're standing budget wise. If this war drags too long, we'll be forced to find ways to raise money in order to keep our people well equipped."

Tifa signaled her acceptance with a nod and stepped into Reeve's office. It was bigger than hers by far. When they'd arrived yesterday, he'd offered to yield it to her but she had quickly turned him down. The idea of having so big a space to simply read reports seemed an excess. Not to mention, it sort of intimidated her a bit, which was why she'd opted instead to take the reports to the room she shared with Sephiroth and doing her work there. When she was lucky, she actually got him to read them to her, reminding her of that time when it had been only the two of them lingering in his apartment.

When prompted, Tifa took the chair across from Reeve and proceeded to listen to the list of problems that had been sent to them. She offered her opinion here and there, amazed to realize that the skills developed when she'd began to manage Seventh Heaven were actually useful. It was, however, a tedious task which took three whole hours to complete. Tifa felt the beginning of a headache forming by the end of it.

Just as they were wrapping everything up, there was a knock on the door. Reeve touched a pad on his desk and the door swooshed open to reveal a solemn looking Genesis. Without a word he came inside and practically crumbled on the chair beside Tifa's. It was almost unnatural to see him looking so…defeated.

"No change, huh?" Reeve guessed, grabbing the papers they'd spread all over his desk and compiling them together into a neat pile. Leaning back on his comfy chair, he reflexively brushed at his dark bangs. His hair had gotten a bit longer. It almost reached his shoulders now. Tifa couldn't help wondering what a certain ninja thought of it.

"She's like a turtle!" Genesis responded with a dark scowl.

"A turtle?" Tifa frowned. She figured that they were talking about Rie since Genesis had taken it upon himself to try to 'bring her back' to her old self, but she wasn't quite following the metaphor. Rie was, after all, someone who got things done fairly quickly.

"I mean…," he raked a hand through his hair as he tried to find a way to better explain his thoughts. "It's like someone threw a rock at her, she got scared and retreated into her damn shell but she won't come out! No matter how much I coax her –and believe me I do a good job of it!- she's sealed tight inside that head of hers!"

Genesis irritation was, Tifa knew, a mask to hide how much it sacred him that she would not return to the way she was. Though Tifa had been thrilled by the change Genesis had brought in Rie, she knew that nobody else appreciated or missed her former self as much as he did. It was obvious that his feelings ran deep and there was no doubt in her mind that he loved her.

Tifa sighed softly remembering that day again. After Cid had found out what had happened, he'd pretty much blamed Rie for trying to do things on her own instead of finding help. Shera, though she'd been successful in somewhat calming her husband, had been unable to speak for or to Rie at all. Even to Tifa it was obvious that some part of Shera blamed Rie. It wasn't a farfetched thought. When people were in pain it was just easier to point their finger at someone else, even if it wasn't right.

But Rie's lack of social skills had caused her to take the words to heart and they had devastated her. No matter how much everyone had tried to explain to her that they hadn't meant it, that it was just the pain talking, she'd become more and more detached. It reached a point where she stopped talking and even stopped eating altogether; prompting Genesis to snap at her in more than one occasion and force feed her at the expense of being glared at by the woman he loved. Cid, grudgingly accepting that it was partially his fault –there had been a lot of pressure coming from too many fronts to resist- had eventually apologized. But whether it was because the apology wasn't heartfelt or because she just hadn't listened to him, Rie's situation had not changed.

Worried by her diminishing health, Reeve had done the only thing he expected would help in bringing some life back into her. He'd given her things to do. Rie, thus, had thrown herself into each and every task Reeve had appointed her, allowing nothing else to distract her, not even Genesis.

"That asshole of Rapahel!" Genesis slapped the desk, making both Tifa and Reeve jump a little with sudden surprise. "What the fuck does he even want with the kid, anyways? What's the point of kidnapping a baby that's going be more a pain in the ass to take care of?!"

Tifa placed a hand on his arm in a calming gesture. Genesis shook his head and gave her an apologetic smile. Tifa smiled back reassuringly. Everyone was on edge and she wondered if this was precisely what Raphael had wanted. The thought also led her to wonder, not for the first time, exactly what kind of verbal exchange had Raphael and Rie sustained. The latter had said nothing of it and it was only through Shera that Tifa had found out, but no matter how many times she'd asked, Rie had seemed only to retreat even more into herself when the subject came up.

"I've also been thinking about that," Reeve began, leaning back on his seat and intertwining his fingers in a thoughtful gesture. "I might be mistaken, but perhaps it has to do with the fact that Shera had fallen ill with the geostigma around the time that she got pregnant."

"She did?" Genesis' eyebrows rose at the revelation, then met on an uncertain frown as he processed the information.

Tifa's mind quickly hopped on the same train. "The Geostigma was due to the contamination of the lifestream by the Jenova cells that fell in after Cloud threw Sephiroth over the reactor, didn't it?"

Reeve nodded, "That's how the theory goes. Our scientists figured that the people who came in contact with this contamination absorbed some of the cells, but their bodies were unable to accommodate them and so they began dying."

"So if Shera had been pregnant at the time, then it's possible that the baby had absorbed some of the geostigma," Genesis mused out loud.

"And since his immunity had just started building, unlike his mother's, he would potentially be able to accommodate the cells," Sephiroth said as he stepped into the room, following nicely. He leaned on a wall and added, "I've been thinking about that too."

"So… what does this mean exactly?" Tifa asked fisting her hands unconsciously, as though preparing herself for an unwanted answer. "I mean, what will Raphael do to him?"

"Maybe the same things those three remnants tried to do?" Reeve offered.

Tifa's jaw clenched. This was no good. Would Raphael even care about what might happen to the baby if he decided to extract the Jenova cells? Would the baby even survive the procedure? She closed her eyes, wishing she had taken care of the damn monsters before this had happened. It was her fault, wasn't it? She knew that Shera was coming to the end of her pregnancy. She should have been more considerate and should have ordered Cid to stay with her rather than pilot the ship!

Her mind kept shoving 'what if's' mercilessly, prompting her headache to throb its way into her temples. A hand on her shoulder, however, brought her guilt-trip to a sudden end.

"We'll find the baby before they lay a hand on him," Sephiroth assured her and, again, he did so with so much confidence that she couldn't help but believe him. Yes, she couldn't allow them to harm the baby! She couldn't allow them to potentially break him like those scientists had done Zariel!

Would you be so cruel as to turn him into her, Raphael? Her mind asked, recalling the pain that had seemed so genuine when he'd shown her the memories of the young woman. Part of her, a small but naïve one, latched onto the hope that maybe, just maybe he wouldn't dare spoil an innocent life.

-o0o-

Genesis Rhasphados leaned his head on the wall, pressing his heated forehead against the cool marble. He closed his eyes, allowing the spray of water to pound on his back. He wished the water pressure was stronger because it was doing nothing to help in massaging the stiff muscles of his back and arms. He bit down on his lower lip surprised and frankly a little irritated to feel something stinging in his eyes, calling unwelcomed tears forth. What a weak heart he had if he was going to allow this little bump in the road to break his resolve. This was nothing! He'd dealt with so much more, that this should be a child's game!

Genesis straightened, washing his hair, massaging his scalp with tense fingers. He had helped her before. It was because of him that she'd managed to grasp what emotions were in the first place. And he was not about to allow all that work to go down the drain, not if he had something to say about it. Yes, of course! All she needed was a little time and then she would be back to smiling and glaring and kissing and asking about Cato…

Genesis hand fisted and he punched the wall when he remembered the pained look she'd sported after Cid's tantrum. Damn man! Didn't he know how very fragile the girl was? Despite how much he'd taught her, Rie was still a child when dealing with most adult situations, especially some of this magnitude. Like any child she would get over Cid's words and Shera's silent resentment, he was positive. It would, of course, take time but he would be there, right beside her, letting her know with his never-wavering presence that she was not alone, that she was not forsaken.

He twisted the water shut and stepped outside. He grabbed a nearby towel and dried himself draping it across his shoulders before pulling on his underwear and pants. He was exhausted. Like Sephiroth, he'd been given the task of training new recruits for most of the day. After that, he'd gone over to talk to Reeve, feeling the need to seek empathy from the only source he could hope to find it.

Genesis was not exactly close to Reeve, but he figured that if anyone could relate to how much Rie's current state bothered him it would be him. After all, he was the one who'd found her in the first place. In fact, Genesis had known –ever since he'd found her in that hospital crying her heart out because he'd refused to take her call—that he was the closest thing to family she had. A surrogate father, perhaps?

"Yes, like a father," Genesis told his reflection, effectively putting a stop to the feeling of jealousy that, even now, still managed to wriggle its way into his heart whenever he thought of Reeve's relationship with Rie. "I'm an idiot."

He shook his head at his moment of inanity before stepping outside the bathroom and into the Spartan room he'd been assigned. He draped the towel he'd placed around his shoulders on a nearby chair. He was exhausted. Right after his talk with Reeve and Tifa, he had felt so frustrated that, when he'd encountered a stoic looking Vincent lost in thought on the roof of the building, Genesis had challenged him to a duel. The man seemed to have been about to turn him down, but Genesis had a way with words and, before long, he had Vincent all flared up and ready to take him down.

His hand unconsciously sought the healed wound on his upper arm, near his shoulder. The skin was still tender from where he'd sew it close with magic. Vincent had been one hell of an opponent, and Genesis was positive that, if that had been a real battle, both of them would have maimed each other at some point in time.

He lowered himself heavily onto his bed and leaned his elbows on his knees, weaving his fingers and looking at them as he lost himself in recollections. He couldn't help thinking about the way Vincent's face had, for a split second, just before an attack, twisted with savage rage. The way the former Turk had fought made Genesis wonder if he was also frustrated about something. What were those hints of disgust that flashed through his blood-red eyes? They weren't directed at Genesis, rather they seemed directed at himself. Part of Genesis, however, wondered if Vincent's rampant emotions were also partly about Rie.

No, that's not it, a voice inside him cooed. The events that had transpired in Mount Nibel came marching to the forefront of his mind. He fought the gag reflex as his nose got all confused and almost picked up the smell of burning flesh. Could that really be it? Was part of Vincent regretting killing the girl in such a gruesome fashion? Genesis had to admit that he wouldn't have expected someone on their side –the good side- to bestow such a merciless death on someone, even if that person was an enemy that wanted them dead.

"Ah, it's useless to think about it," Genesis fell on his back, pushing all thoughts aside. He wanted to sleep. After a while of looking at the grey, dark ceiling, he felt his muscles relaxing and his lids drooping. He was just about to succumb to his sought after sleep when there was a knock on his door.

Cursing colorfully, he got to his feet and, not bothering to throw a shirt on, padded towards the entrance and pushed the panel –with more force than was necessary— to open the damn door. When the steely barrier disappeared, he found himself staring at none other than Rie. Taken aback, he blinked, wondering if he was already dreaming and, if he was, he told himself he didn't want to wake. Because she'd finally come looking for him and, if the slight blush decorating her cheeks was any indication, she seemed to finally be back to normal.

"May… may I come in?" She asked a little unsure.

Genesis was quick to move out of the way and watched entranced as she stepped inside. His eyes were glued to her lithe form and they followed her as she made her way towards his unmade bed. She was truly a lovely creature and he was reminded once again why it had pained him so much when she'd shied at his touch.

Genesis hesitated on what to do next before pushing the panel in order to close the door. Whatever was going to happen he didn't want any interruptions, especially because the promise of pulling her out of her shell was becoming more probable by the second. Feeling suddenly a little nervous, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and stared at her in the silence that followed. It wasn't an awkward silence, he was quick to note. Rather it was still the silence of their unvoiced truce, the one that had been born after the attack. He just hoped that she wouldn't level on him one of her glares, she had no idea how much it truly hurt him when she did it.

Genesis shook himself out of his thoughts, wondering if he was assuming too much out of one visit. After all, she hadn't stated the reason for coming yet. Still, not quite ready to make a move and possibly break the truce, he studied her some more. She was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at the space between her feet and apparently finding the rug very interesting because she had yet to look up. Since she wasn't complaining about him closing the door, Genesis figured that it had been an acceptable gesture and thus approached her with a bit more confidence.

"Rie, are you alright?" he asked, sitting down beside her. He positioned himself close enough to provide comfort if needed, but far enough to not intrude into her personal space. The feeling of déjà vu invaded him. He had done the exact same thing when he'd found her on that hospital floor. He almost smiled at the memory.

Almighty Shiva! He wanted to hold her but was afraid that if he did he would chase her away, making the turtle retreat into her thick shell. He didn't even dare to try and caress her cheek or even touch her at all, for that matter. The fact that she'd come to him of her own volition was enough for now. It had to be if he hoped to have her back.

"I…," she fell silent and he noticed her hands balling on the fabric of the covers he'd thrown aside. Instinctively he reached for her hand and felt her tense when his fingers clasped around her fist. He softened his hold but couldn't bring himself to server it.

She gasped softly. He tensed slightly. Slowly, so very slowly she turned to him. There were tears welling in her eyes and there was so much grief and pain and yet… within that pain there was something more, something he couldn't quite place. A voice inside of him tried to raise an alarm, but his senses shut down on him. Because before he'd given more thought to it, her lips were touching his, demanding his undivided attention. He yielded all control, welcoming the madness. Genesis kissed her back passionately, his eyelids closing as he let his pent-up desire throw everything else to the wind. Damn the consequences, he wanted this, he wanted her!

"I missed you," he let that small bit of truth slip past his lips in a short moment between kisses. He felt her pushing him back so that he was on his back with her on top. Genesis' eyes flew open when he felt her hands on his temples, they were warm. Too warm.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and he realized too late what she was doing. He tried to stop her, he tried to wriggle out of her grasp. More than that he tried to ask her why, but the word died on his tongue before it could roll out of his lips. With that echo in his mind, with those tearful eyes of hers as the last image, everything else went inevitably blank. And he realized in that split second before numbness, that what he'd read in her eyes was regret.

-o0o-

Castiel produced out of a hidden pocket of his coat the bag of evidence he'd taken from her so long ago. The silver hair that had been inside was long gone, but for some reason he'd been unwilling to throw the bag away. No, that was wrong. He knew exactly why he couldn't throw it away. It was because she was part of her and he was reluctant to let go even such a small portion of that woman.

He was sitting on the corner, leaning an arm on his bended knee. They had punished him again for his lack of cooperation and the muscles of his back were still pounding from the beating he'd received. He smirked as he recalled the horror in the face of that one man he'd managed to punch before he'd been brought down. He could still feel the nose breaking under his fist, the sound adding coals to keep the fire of anger in the pit of his stomach alive. If he'd had it his way, he would have pushed his nose all the way into his skull, but the guard's reflexes were good. How could they not? They'd been showered with mako and tasked with keeping him under control.

He brushed his blood-shot eyes, wondering if Azia had been told of what happened. Regret was quick to shove some of his satisfaction aside. He didn't like her knowing that such a savage part of him existed. She was so pure that he was afraid that one day she would realize that his darkness could taint her and she would leave him here, alone and forgotten.

"Cas," his head snapped up, his eyes squinting to chase away the shadows in order to better see her. "Are you alright?"

He grunted softly as he stood up, his heart pounding. She'd come! Despite probably knowing that he'd hurt someone, she had still come! His lips quirked and his eyes soften as he approached the glass wall of his cage. She was right there, just beyond this crystal barrier.

She was beautiful.

"You look weary, Azia," he pointed out, noting with concern that she'd not only lost another shade of color but that she looked slimmer as well. She had never said it, but he knew she was sick. Again he felt his heart aching at the thought.

She chuckled at him and waved her hand in a laidback fashion, as if she didn't want to talk about such a mundane topic. Smiling brightly at him, she made light of the situation, like she'd always done before, "Come now, Cas. That expression doesn't suite you at all. You'll get wrinkles if you keep it up!"

He tried to wipe away the pain in his golden orbs, to soften the tighten muscles around his eyes. But he couldn't. How cruel! It should be him the one near death's door! Because no matter how much she avoided saying it, it was painfully clear to him that the hand of death was just about to close around her fragile form. Her expression softened and she placed a hand on the surface of the glass. Castiel did the same, wishing he could touch her at least once.

"How long do you have?" he blurted, leaning his forehead on the cool surface. He didn't know anymore if he truly wanted to know.

She smiled, this time more sadly, and simply said, "I'll be sure to wait for you, Cas."

"Don't say that!" he closed his eyes as tears came unbidden into them. He hated this! How fucked-up was this world! How could the Goddess of this damn, pitiful Gaia allow such ruthlessness to befall them! Was it not enough that he had to suffer everyday in captivity? Did she really have to take her as well! His eyes flew open with unbound surprise when he felt her hand on his cheek. He turned with wide eyes and there she was, right there with him, inside his crystal cage.

"How?" he asked and she showed him the keycard she'd used. She offered it to him, but he didn't move, he couldn't move.

"I managed to snatch it from one of the doctors," she explained, "it'll only work tonight because tomorrow he'll probably report it and it'll become useless." She grabbed his hand. Her touch was warm and comforting. Firmly she placed the flimsy card on his open palm and forced his fingers to close around it. "I've slipped a sleeping potion on the guards' meals outside. They'll be asleep until past midnight. You have four hours." Her silver eyes jumped from his trembling hand to his tearful eyes.

"Come with me," Castiel pretty much begged, his hand closing on hers. He wanted to hug her but he was too scared. What if by touching her further he sentenced her to a lifetime of despair? His dark thoughts and fear evaporated when her hand clasped around his, holding him with as much force as he was holding her. Could she really feel the same way? Did he dare hope?

He leaned forward until his forehead was touching hers. She didn't move back and he was grateful, for he didn't think he could take any kind of rejection from her. She was all there was for him to look forward to. If not for her, he would have given up long ago on his life –on his sanity.

"I can't," she said, her tone so soft he almost missed it. His golden orbs trailed towards the floor, focusing on the small space between their bodies. So close. "I won't survive outside," she explained, possibly wanting to clear away the doubts that she didn't want to go with him. She pulled her hand away and grabbed his head, forcing him to look her straight in the face. "You should be free, Castiel. You should go and live the rest of your life in peace and happiness. And I…" her eyes filled with tears and they rolled down her cheeks in thick beads, "I promise you that when you're done, I will be waiting for you in the castle in the skies."

He shook his head and did what he'd always dreamt of doing. He pulled her into his arms protectively, wishing that he could give his life for hers. Wishing that he could bring down her cruel, dark fate!

"I will never leave you, Azia. I love you," he confided. He cried when he felt her lips on his. They tasted sweeter than he'd ever imagined. He didn't want the touch –the feeling to end.

"Then be mine tonight," she whispered, pulling him to the floor with her. He was careful not to crush her with his need. He treated her with a gentleness he hadn't known he was capable of. And in that night he gave himself to her without holding anything back. In that night, he understood what it meant to become one. In that night Castiel allowed himself to love someone for the first time… and for the last.

The swordsman snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing a set of loud footsteps approaching. He quickly brushed away the couple of treacherous tears that had escaped him. No matter how much time had passed by, his heart still ached for the only woman that had made him feel worthy of life. Azia.

"It's time," Uriel said as he popped his silver-topped head inside the room. His all-knowing eyes studied him for a while making Castiel glare at him. Unfortunately, the bigger man had never been intimidated by him, or by any other for that matter. "Are you sure you're up for this? Your wounds have barely healed. I could ask-"

Castiel tsked and pushed the man aside carelessly, stalking down the hall and towards the room where he knew Raphael awaited. He pulled the door open, not bothering to knock, and made his way towards the garden where his older brother tended to spend most of his day. He was watering the plants, completely at peace.

"At last, my last piece is ready to come back," Raphael said, standing up and turning to face him with a peaceful smile on his face.

Castiel rolled the shoulder that the tin-man had dislocated, hearing it pop. "Don't worry, I'll bring her back safe and sound."

Raphael cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, "Castiel, I've been meaning to ask. Does it pain you that she wears her face?"

Castiel would have glared had the question come from anybody else, but this was Raphael and he didn't have the heart to be mean to him. After all, Raphael had saved him, he had protected him from the pain of Azia's loss. But what was he supposed to say? Did it pain him? He didn't know…

"Well, though it is true that she is a part of her," Raphael began, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was a comforting gesture. He squeezed, "you must still remember that she is not her. You must not confuse the two or you will be heartbroken."

Castiel moved back, cast away his doubts and smirked. "That won't happen." I cannot love anymore, remember, brother?

Yes. It didn't matter if he was attracted to her because she wore Azia's face, he would never be her. She was gone. She was waiting for him in their castle on the sky where, if he was lucky, he would meet her again one day. However, that didn't mean that this other girl was not important to him in a way. After all, she was part of Azia and, because of that if nothing else, he would protect her.

But that's not why you pointed it out, is it? A voice inside him stated. No, what his older brother was doing was warning him against breaking one of their rules. Fraternization between the members of their group, after all, was the only thing Raphael had forbidden. Castiel had a feeling that the order came from mother more than from his brother, but he'd always refrained from asking. It wasn't something that interested him enough to gamble mother's anger at any rate.

"I'll be off then," he said, ordering his red wing out.

Raphael smiled, "Safe trip."

With that, Castiel disappeared, leaving behind a weak whirlwind of feathers.

-o0o-

Sephiroth Crescent'shand loosed the hold on his glass and it shattered on the floor, making Tifa look up from where she'd been bent over one of her many reports. His Jenova cells had stirred and now they were dancing inside of him, wriggling like a pack of sliding snakes.

"What is it?" she asked, sprinting to action when he moved over to the closet to retrieve his weapon. He glanced at her as she pulled on her fighting gloves, the material she'd equipped them with glinting on the surface.

"Someone's here," he explained curtly, running out into the hallway with Tifa hot on his heels. He knew that there was no need to further elaborate on this, his sense of urgency would be enough to convey the magnitude of the threat. He spared a part of his mind to focus solely on the information he was retrieving from his Jenova cells while keeping an eye out for hidden enemies. The least they needed would be another ambush.

He frowned as his feet swallowed the distance to the place where the hostile Jenova user had teleported to. It was somewhat familiar. Yes, that's right! He'd felt the remnants of this signature before, outside of the Nibelheim mansion after their battle in Mt. Nibel. The General slid around the corner, hoping he would make it in time. This man was the same man who'd beaten Vincent Valentine to the floor. The situation was looking bleaker by the second if he was allowed to run rampant inside their HQ.

"Sound the alarms," he shot back, pressing his pace, part of him wanting to leave Tifa behind. It was selfish of him, but he didn't want her to be near the enemy if he could help it. He heard the alarms blaring soon after and knew that she'd stopped to pull one of the many levers around the floor. The auxiliary lights turned on, draping everything in a red hue that seemed to add to the ominous atmosphere.

He heard the sound of more footsteps behind him. Already people were coming awake, some of them stumbling out of their rooms half-asleep and half-dressed but armed to the teeth. Cloud and Vincent were soon running on each of his sides, weapons at the ready, faces set with determination.

"What's going on?" Cloud asked, his blue eyes scanning their surroundings, looking for whatever it was that had raised the alarms.

"Can't you feel it?" he asked, pointing his sword up ahead, where the signature –the presence was blazing like a bright flame. His Jenova cells shuddered with longing, wishing to reunite with those of the enemy. Sephiroth pushed aside the desire, concentrating only on the anger that was welling inside of him. How dare they come again into their midst!

"There's only one," Cloud pointed out needlessly, voicing the question that a small part of Sephiroth had also been wondering about. Why just one person indeed? And if this was some kind of strategic attack, then why not invade Tifa's room? Wouldn't she be the priority? For what reason exactly would they toss their one chance at a surprise attack? What could be more important than their leader?

Using his superior speed, Vincent glided ahead of them, his cloak swirling around his body as though it had a life of its own. He didn't push the button to open the door, not wishing to lose time if it was locked perhaps. Instead, he brought out death penalty and shot his way inside without losing stride, pushing what was left of the door down with his golden claw. Sephiroth and Cloud followed with the rest of AVALANCHE still some ways away.

When Sephiroth stepped inside, however, he froze right beside an unmoving Vincent Valentine.

"Shit," Cloud whispered, stopping right behind him, his hand tightening on his broad-sword.

"Step away from her," Sephiroth warned, preparing himself to strike if given the slightest indication of not complying with the order. Laughter answered him but to his, and everyone else's surprise, it wasn't coming from the redheaded that had invaded their HQ. Instead, it came from the figure sitting behind the desk, regarding them with mismatched eyes.

To be continued…

AN: Oh, a twist! Anyhow, please don't forget to review if you get the chance! Also, I've been meaning to do more art for this fic so if you have any suggestions feel free to let me know!