A/N: I'm keeping up with this for all the lovely people who review for me all of the time and everyone else who reads :) And Luna who made me ANOTHER awesome fanart! Totally made my day.... Thanks to kiralover44, KT, tokidokilove, -CNFB-, CaseyAnn'sPrecious, whatevergirl, JadeOokami, and Luna! We skip through some time in this chapter, I'm not sure how it all worked out, so feel free to voice your opinions on that.
The flight back to Midgar was both welcome, and somewhat dreaded. It seemed as though, for Vincent at least, that another lifetime had taken place away from SOLDIER. More had happened in that short absence than in the entirety of his life.
He was apprehensive to go back, mostly because of the strange relationship he had with Sephiroth. He more or less knew that the man would be back to that awful nothingness once again. There would be no half smiles, or unexpected confidences given. The man would be back to being General, the pillar that kept SOLDIER standing.
Then there was Chaos, who was unpredictable. He felt that he had gotten a handle on it overall, but he knew that his control was partially an illusion; Chaos could still effect him. The alien feelings would not just be willed away, and even the Protomateria seemed powerless to stop any of it. He would have to be very careful if he planned on keeping it all a secret.
It had been a mutual decision to return sooner than originally intended. Sephiroth, from what he could see, had been growing steadily more restless. The man had been gone from the house more often than he had been in it, Vincent often spotting him disappearing down the beach. He knew that it was probably one of the first time's in Sephiroth's life that the man had actually taken a break from work. And he always seemed to be, from what Vincent had seen in Midgar, everywhere at once. He could understand the restlessness.
Vincent too, had become more withdrawn. He had begun to worry about his place back on base, though he knew that Sephiroth's training had definitely improved his skills for the better. Regardless, he knew he would be even more separated from everyone than he had been previously. Zack would probably be his only real friend, if the acquaintance they had could be called a friendship.
Though he felt closer to Sephiroth in the sense that they better understood one another, he felt farther away as well. There was no teasing or playfulness to Sephiroth, just seriousness. Those few glimpses he had of that other side of the man were completely gone. But at least it wasn't cold like it had been, there was at least some emotion below the surface....
They took the bike back to Nibelheim, using the same rocky trails as the first time. It wasn't as frightening as it had been before, because this time Vincent didn't hesitate to hang onto the body in front of him. It went by much faster, especially since he didn't find himself half as bothered by the contact; instead he found it very relaxing, though there was certainly an underlying arousal.
Reno and Rude had been there to pick them up, the former his typical talkative self. They had landed in an open clearing, leaving the helicopter running, Reno hanging out the doorway, Rude pushing him out of the way to help with the bike.
"So you have a good time?" Reno said with a grin, his ponytail tangling from the harsh wind created by the blades above their heads.
"Yes," Vincent replied with a smile. He really had, minus some of the more trying days.
"Oh goodie," Reno answered, not bothering to make any move to assist Sephiroth and Rude as they began lifting the bike up into the helicopter.
Vincent at least managed to get Reno out of the way, jumping into the cabin before the other two had gotten inside with the load. Reno was perfectly oblivious, even as Vincent pulled him away from the doorway by the arm.
"Ya know, I think you got taller," he commented, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you think he got taller, Rude?"
Rude only grunted, trying to balance the weight of the heavy motorcycle, his brow wrinkled in concentration. Vincent went over to help, but couldn't do much as Sephiroth easily towed it in by the front fender, obviously capable of doing it by himself had the situation called for it.
"He was not gone very long. If he did grow, it was likely under a centimeter," Sephiroth answered logically, already bending down to lash the bike to the built in handles on the floor.
Reno snorted. "Killjoy," he muttered, arms crossing over his chest as he watched everyone work while he continued to stand around. "So what's with the number you called from?" he asked, speaking to Sephiroth.
"I used a phone in town."
"Yeah, town in the boonies. You really are being all secretive about this. Makes me kind of...suspicious," Reno said smugly, messing with his goggles. "Tseng is weird about that sort of thing."
"Go ahead and tell him if you must," Sephiroth replied, not the least bit perturbed.
The redhead frowned at the response, looking vaguely disappointed. He watched the work for a short while, surprisingly quiet, though it didn't last that long. "Well, let's get this shit goin', yo!" he said obnoxiously.
He staggered toward the cockpit with something that was too clumsy to be called a swagger, ignoring the fact that he was the only one ready for takeoff.
"Hold onto something; I had a bit to drink..." he let out a loud burp in emphasis. "You know at the bar...there were strippers...it was nice...."
Zack was between classes when he got a text from Angeal telling him to meet him. It wasn't all that uncommon for his mentor to call him somewhere, so he didn't read into any. He stopped by the cafeteria to get something to eat, then went toward the Third's quarters, figuring there was a problem that Angeal wanted his help with.
The Thirds were a bit of a distance from the rest of the facility. The isolation had many purposes, but the main one was that Thirds came and went frequently, and few actually remained. Thirds were almost considered to be outsiders in a sense, as they weren't exactly trusted, nor were they really given much respect as far as rank.
Though they were certainly many steps above the guard, they all had yet to prove themselves, and were still considered to be of the rank of 'private', as though they had no real title in SOLDIER. It was thought to be in everyone's best interest that the lower ranks knew as little of the inner workings of the program as possible; such initiative rights were reserved for Seconds.
There were a lot of younger SOLDIERs milling around, some talking, others playing basketball on makeshift courts, while still others went on their business to their next course.
Angeal was easy to spot, tall, and stronger looking than the Thirds by far. His skin was sharp contrast to the shorter boy in front of him, their aesthetic appearances complete opposites in most ways. It was the boy next to his mentor that made Zack grin wholeheartedly, then give a wave. Vincent smiled and gave a wave back, though he seemed to be talking to Angeal.
Zack hurried over to them quickly, not minding that people were staring. He stopped at Vincent's side, slapping him roughly on the shoulder with a smile that was infectious. "Hey man, it's good to see you're back!" he said excitedly.
It was only seconds before he had wrapped the smaller boy in an enthusiastic hug, grinning and squeezing him tightly. He roughed up the neatly combed black hair for good measure, while Angeal could only hold back laughter at just how affectionate his student was.
"Zack," Angeal said sternly, though it was obvious he was trying not to smile, his irritation completely feigned. "Little less crushing."
"Oh, right," Zack answered, looking a bit downtrodden, though he had just remembered that Vincent had been hurt and he might not be helping.
Vincent had taken the assault rather well, only smiling and laughing a few times at how happy Zack was to see him. It felt nice to be missed. He couldn't help but find Zack's attitude lightening his own even more than it already was.
Finally, Zack let go, looking over to Angeal who was giving him the 'you know better' look.
"So how are you, did you heal and everything?" Zack asked, ignoring the silent reprimand.
"Yes, I'm much better," Vincent answered, still unable to stop the small smile.
"Cool. So when are they going to get you back into the program? Have they said anything yet?"
Before Vincent could respond, the Commander answered for him, "He will be back into the routine soon enough."
"We still get to train together and stuff, right?"
"Right," Vincent replied quietly.
Angeal took advantage of the brief break in conversation: "Now that you have said hello, I think it might be time to let Private Valentine get everything unpacked," Angeal said, still looking serious.
"Oh, come on, Ang—"
"Zack." Angeal could only shake his head as he said it, trying not to allow himself to smile and encourage the teen further. His expression became a lot more stoical when he realized that they had an audience.
"Fine," Zack replied in exasperation. He frowned almost comically, giving his mentor his best annoyed expression. "See you around Vincent."
"Fine, Sir," Angeal corrected, not giving an inch.
"Fine, sir," he murmured in response, his look still sour.
Vincent laughed a little as the Second walked away looking a lot more depressed than when he had shown up. Several of the Thirds were more or less blatantly staring, surprised that Angeal had allowed Zack such leniency. They didn't realize that the man would be talking to the Second about a 'time and a place' the next time there didn't happen to be a crowd around.
"Glad you're back, Valentine," the Commander said once Zack had left, clapping a hand on the boy's shoulder reassuringly for a brief moment. He'd learned from Zack, surprisingly, that some physical contact was in fact reassuring, though he would never make much of a habit of it. Vincent, however, was an exception. He didn't have to have it told to him that the boy had gone through a lot while he was gone; the Third appeared...strained to an extent.
"Don't worry, it won't be difficult to get used to everything again," Angeal consoled, upon seeing the Third's apprehensive expression.
It wasn't SOLDIER that Vincent was worried about, but he didn't say that to Commander Hewley. He had a lot of other things on his mind."Yeah, I know," he answered softly.
Sephiroth was at the edge of his waning patience, but made no outward indication, as cool as ever, though his words were not. "What you are saying is that it is now perfectly acceptable to dispose of guards in the place of SOLDIERs, yes?"
Though he had little interest in the guard or its well being, he was already thinking of the many consequences it would have on the SOLDIER program. It was a breach of security, for one, allowing guards to wander the base more or less unattended, and it would also complicate missions on which they would be the accompaniment. But these were not President Shinra's concern, he knew. No, the concern was keeping Wutai repressed and continuing with regular missions to ensure that SOLDIER remained in the public eye as capable and vigilant.
"They are not expendable. But the fact of the matter is, we need more men. We are far stretched as it is," the President argued, his face reddened slightly from the obvious frustration he was feeling.
"Why is it that this sounds so incredibly familiar?" Sephiroth questioned, walking forward in a way that was reminiscent of stalking, his hands grasped behind his back in a tight, unyielding grip.
He was alone with the President in the office on the topmost floor. There was a long meeting table to the left that could fit twenty people comfortably, lined with high-backed, plush leather chairs. The windows were across every wall, letting natural light fall over the expensive black marble tiles and overstuffed sofas spaced throughout the immense room.
It was, upon observation, both elegant yet somewhat snobbish, the gold-trimmed frames gaudy around their scenes of tranquil lakes and sprawling estates, while the mini busts of famous poets and philosophers seemed almost condescending.
President Shinra was not necessarily an arrogant man, however, he could be stubborn at times. He believed he knew how to run Shinra, but it had slowly become more a military than it was a company, exerting control over everything around it with an iron fist. Shinra knew nothing of war, though he had managed to keep things fairly grounded through trial and error. If anything, it was Rufus that Sephiroth had a very strong distaste for, though he certainly was not fond of the President either given the man's choices as of late. That lack of fondness only seemed to increase with time.
This was not the first discussion they had, but one of several. Upon arriving at Headquarters, Sephiroth was immediately summoned to a private meeting with the President. That had been expected, as were the topics that had been covered before the current one.
It had more or less gone similarly to the conversation he had with Tseng in Wutai: questions as to his whereabouts, questions about Vincent, then of course the several 'why' questions. It had not been as articulate an attack as Tseng's, not nearly, but Sephiroth was more than annoyed with it all anyway.
He had neglected to even tell President Shinra that he would be mentoring Vincent; he was tired of the personal questions and had decided that his reasons as to why he would be training Vincent were entirely his own. Questions would arise, but they would be silenced, he would see to it.
"You were right about the Seconds and Thirds," the President conceded, though it seemed halfhearted.
Sephiroth resisted the urge to scoff, instead allowing his leather-clad hands to squeeze each other uncomfortably.
"But this will not be your SOLDIERs. We need replacements. Most of these recruits are at least somewhat battle experienced—"
The President paused when Sephiroth smiled sardonically.
"They will be more prepared than Thirds, even if they are not as skilled."
"I'm sure," he said dryly.
"There is little else I can do, can't you see that?" Shinra asked, looking flustered. "If I don't increase the numbers, everyone will suffer."
"Don't you think that this might be a decision that needs to be discussed with Lazard, considering he is the Director of SOLDER?" Sephiroth questioned, walking even closer to the desk that the President seemed to hide behind.
"Lazard has given the go ahead, as has Rufus."
Lazard? That was unexpected. But Sephiroth knew that Lazard was not the fool that Shinra could be; he would likely have a legitimate reason. It would be something he would need to see the man about.
Sephiroth gave a brief nod, knowing there was no reason to argue. When it came down to it, what did it matter, anyway? They were not his SOLDIERs; he would let the President do as he would with them. But if they got in the way...that would be another matter entirely.
"Have it as you will," Sephiroth said complacently, through with the argument. He had already started for the door, not caring to be dismissed.
Before he left however, he looked back over one of his silver pauldrons, halting momentarily. His tone was bland, but the words somehow conveyed a venom none the less: "If they in any way impede the work of my SOLDIERs then you will be the first person I come to see," he stated threateningly, his face back to impassive.
The words seemed to cut like a blade, President Shinra sobering from his belief that Sephiroth had been agreeing with him for once. His brow furrowed deeply as he straightened in his chair. He nodded grudgingly, jaw tight, uncomfortable.
Even the most powerful of men knew crossing Sephiroth was a road straight to death. The President could only hope that he had the General's allegiance, regardless of what the man's feelings toward him were.
He did not want to end up in front of the blade instead of safely protected behind it.
The walk to his rooms seemed longer than usual, which was likely due to the countless interruptions along the way. Though Sephiroth was not one to tire easily, there were only so many questions and greetings he could stand before he started becoming very short with people. Or perhaps it was just the injections.
Whatever he was doing was not working. He had tried the most logical combination, but found that his mood swings were becoming almost unbearable. He could control them to quite an extent given his years of practice, however, when it came to anger and irritation he almost felt no reason to restrain himself given the drugs' influence.
He had already begun to toy with the idea of stopping the injections completely, but he knew that the consequences might be worse than a few mood swings. He would wait, change the chemical compound again, but he knew that if Hojo had been reaching his end as far as a 'cure', he had very little chance of succeeding himself with such a limited knowledge. He did not have subjects to test on, only himself, and that was not a very sturdy alternative given his job description.
That night with Vincent had been interesting. It had certainly had the effects he had wanted at the time, though he knew that in the future it all might prove disastrous. The drugs had helped, making it easier to push his guard aside for awhile, however, affection was a very blunt tool, and as a consequence it never created anything clean cut. Vincent could interpret it all sorts of ways. The boy obviously craved love in any form, and to give it to him would eventually create problems no matter how careful he was.
It was selfish, to be sure, but he in a way, wanted Vincent for himself. It wouldn't last, he knew, and in the end Vincent would be nothing but broken and untrusting, but it seemed to be where the boy was headed regardless of his own manipulations. Currently, he decided to not focus on the consequences; there seemed little point. He had started something and would finish it whatever the outcome, because if he cut Vincent off, the boy would probably break, and if he didn't he would likely still break at some point. There seemed to be no winning anyway.
It was with distraction that he opened the door to his room, not bothering to switch on the lights. He could tell immediately that there was something off, as he detected a scent that didn't belong. His apartment was heavy with it, as though from days of exposure.
His bags were neatly placed next the couch, untouched as he had requested. He bypassed those, moving past the livingroom and into the further depths of the blackened rooms when he saw no one lurking in the shadowed corners. He came to the bedroom door, stopping and looking to the floor for a moment, his gloved hand on the knob. He would not turn back, but that did not mean he wanted to deal with what was coming. He pushed it open after a moment, easily snaking his way through the space almost silently.
The room was the darkest of them all, the windows with heavy metal slats over them that he often kept tightly shut. He did not like windows in the places where he slept; it was a natural animal inclination to be in an enclosed, seemingly impenetrable area.
The bed took up most of the space, covered in a layer of soft, silken blankets. There was a door to a bathroom in the right corner, one that was wide and expansive with ornate tiling. The room was virtually bare except for the bed, though there was a concealed closet and a small night stand on the side of the bed closest to the door.
"Genesis," Sephiroth said softly, observing the man that was sitting on his bed, hands clasped over his knees elegantly.
"So the hero returns," the man addressed, utterly mocking.
Genesis looked visibly tired, his eyes not as bright blue as they normally were, but dimmer somehow. There were discernable dark patches under the intelligent eyes, giving the impression that the man hadn't bothered to sleep in a few days.
Sephiroth did not answer, standing in the darkness, unreadable. He only watched his friend with detachment, wondering where it was that the person he knew had gone. There was someone angry and bitter in his place.
"You took a vacation, I hear," the redhead said conversationally, tilting his head slightly to better examine Sephiroth.
Again, Sephiroth made no response, knowing that it was futile. Genesis would only rebuke him, and he was not interested in playing games, though somehow he knew he would end up in one all the same.
"And you weren't alone."
Sephiroth already knew, from that simple sentence, what Genesis was doing. "What gave you that impression?" he asked tonelessly, not moving from his place.
"Oh, quite a few people. Unlike Angeal, I am not so easily placated with illogical explanations." Genesis was smiling, though it was in no way friendly.
"Are you attempting to impress me with your ability to gain confidential information?"
Sephiroth knew that the only way to get under his friend's skin was to more or less insult him in some way. It was the quickest route to discovering what the man was after; it made him lose his calm.
Genesis let out a short, humorless laugh. "Would it impress you? Just as much as weak Thirds with black hair and sultry eyes?" He laughed again, looking positively malevolent. "You, my friend, are so very predictable. I do find your reasoning questionable though, but that is another matter."
"Of what concern is it to you, Genesis? I thought you had no interest in my doings. You would not happen to be feeling pangs of jealousy?" Sephiroth stated, letting the words bite from how flatly he had said them.
"No, I'm just rather sickened that you have resorted to virginal boys." There was an almost theatric pause. "What would Angeal say?"
Sephiroth's eyes darkened considerably. So Genesis planned to blackmail him. How quaint.
"Why, do you plan to tell him?" Sephiroth questioned, his tone suddenly dangerous.
"I don't know, should I? I suppose that technically you can fuck whoever or whatever you want off base, though, then again the whole age issue is still a problem."
"What do you want, Genesis?"
"So was it good? Did you enjoy it? I know I would have. He is rather sweet and defenseless looking. Perfect for someone with such complexes as yours," Genesis commented with a smile, completely ignoring the question Sephiroth had asked.
"You will stop now." The voice had gone from dangerous to commanding, the green eyes glinting in the dark. "Do not make me ask twice."
"Or what? You'll kill me? Murder me? I've heard all of your threats, Sephiroth, and quite frankly they have begun to sound boring."
The General only glowered, his left fist tightening.
"See, all bark, no bite. One thing I have to ask, did you pull your signature? The entire 'seductive, caring lover who comes then goes completely cold'? I do have to say, that was always my personal fav—"
Genesis didn't quite get to finish, as Masamune was drawn, the blade a mere inch from the sensitive skin of his throat in a flash of metal. For some reason, he had not expected Sephiroth to react so quickly, but fortunately it did not change anything; he knew the man would only threaten not kill.
"—orite." Genesis eyed the blade. "We always have had such a volatile relationship, haven't we?" He smiled at his own words, not looking the least bit bothered at having the sword at such a vulnerable point.
"You are going too far," Sephiroth stated, his fury showing in the intensity of his eyes.
"Am I, or are you simply taking it all too harshly? Don't tell me you love him..." Genesis tried to sound nonchalant in tone, but there was something that flickered in his eyes.
As much as Genesis had grown to hate Sephiroth, he could not ever bear to see the man love someone else when he himself hadn't been acceptable. It was some sort of residual jealousy that had outlasted their on and off relationship. He had feelings for Sephiroth still, but none that couldn't be outweighed by the dark loathing that had continued to fester the more Sephiroth was seen as the 'hero' and he was nothing but someone in the man's shadow.
Things would change, that he would ensure. His feelings for his friend had already faded, and would soon be dead. There was almost nothing left as it was; it was more than easy to hate the seemingly perfect, cold man in front of him.
"Hardly," Sephiroth answered.
"Good. It would be terrible of you to break your ongoing record by actually caring for a change, though of course the 'vacation' and the saving of a Third are still highly questionable," Genesis responded.
"I want you to leave. We have nothing to talk about," Sephiroth stated, withdrawing Masamune.
"You always dismiss me when the conversation doesn't go your way. Not very brave of you," Genesis commented, rising from the bed. He stood about a foot from Sephiroth, blue eyes meeting green.
"No, I only dismiss your games."
A/N: Cruddy edit, but it is 4:00 in the morning. Heh.