Sephiroth pulled out his PHS as he walked with quick, purposeful strides down the hall and away from the looming disaster of the President and Directors. He snapped it open, making sure Cloud's head was still pinned against his shoulder. It was a little awkward, but he managed, and was completely unsurprised by the deluge of messages and missed calls from his subordinates. He sighed without actually sighing as he stepped into the elevator.
It was only when the doors fully closed (and there was no chance of anyone, but especially not Hojo, joining them) that he let Cloud sit upright. The toddler did so immediately, glaring at him with a truly impressive level of rancor that was entirely ruined by the constellation of plaster dust speckled across his nose and cheeks.
And that reminded him. He hit the speed-dial for Angeal's PHS and put his to his ear, waiting expectantly. Cloud narrowed his eyes. Sephiroth blinked slowly back, unperturbed.
"SEPH!" Angeal gasped the moment the line connected. "The kid! He bolted, we don't know where he went —"
"I have him," Sephiroth interrupted. Cloud scowled mightily. "Is he covered in plaster for the reason I assume he is?"
"He broke an entire wall!" Genesis reported gleefully, probably from over Angeal's shoulder. He did so love listening in on conversations he hadn't been invited to. "I shall get you the security footage, it was absolutely poetic in its efficient brutality —"
"Wait a minute ," Angeal interrupted, and Genesis made a muffled, offended noise, as if he'd been shoved away by a hand on his face. Most likely because that exact thing had happened. Sephiroth could see it very clearly in his mind's eye. "What do you mean the kid is with you? You were supposed to be with the President!"
"Correct," Sephiroth said. The elevator doors chimed pleasantly, opening up to reveal a distracted secretary who took exactly one step into the elevator before looking up. He froze, taking in the General and the glaring, plaster-covered, shredded-medical-gown-wearing toddler in his arms, and made the prudent decision: he leaned around just enough to reach the elevator's control panel, pressed the close doors button, and went to go take the stairs.
Smart man, Sephiroth thought.
He heard Angeal take a deep breath on the other end of the line, and he could practically hear his friend pinching the bridge of his nose as he quickly read between the lines of what little Sephiroth had said. "Do I want to know how the kid got into that meeting?"
"He broke the doors down," Sephiroth said, just as Genesis said "I would wager he broke something, obviously."
Angeal took another breath. "And what did you do to be able to leave with him?"
"Cloud did most of the work for me," Sephiroth replied, completely honest. He looked back down at Cloud, who now seemed both angry and increasingly groggy. Of course —he'd used a lot of energy 'powering out,' as they liked to call it. The toddler also hadn't slept or even rested since he'd slaughtered an entire lab full of monsters. He was due for a long nap and a large meal.
"Elaborate," Angeal said flatly. "I want to know how many enemies we made today."
"Just Science," Sephiroth said. Blessedly, the elevator reached the floor with his quarters. He was grateful for only one minor interruption. If he was extremely lucky, that secretary also had the good sense not to go spreading rumors about what he'd seen. "But we both know it was far too late on that front already."
"Not the Turks?"
"No. The President officially handed Cloud over to SOLDIER." He strode out of the elevator, glancing down and arching a brow when Cloud actually growled at him. His little teeth were bared, and his eyes burned where they stared at the side of his head. It was…really cute.
Really cute. Was this why people wanted babies? He kind of got the appeal now.
"He —" Angeal cut himself off before he could say something stupid about the honor of handing a baby over to a group of soldiers. That's what Sephiroth reasonably assumed he was thinking of, at least. "Alright. We'll rendezvous at your apartment?"
"Yes." The front door beeped as he unlocked it and stepped inside.
"We'll be there soon." The line clicked as Angeal hung up, and Sephiroth snapped his PHS shut. For a minute he just stood, taking in the blessed stillness of his apartment —and listening for the telltale micro-noise of surveillance devices that might have been installed while he was on mission. He detected a few and held back an annoyed sigh.
Cloud had reverted to glaring tiredly into the middle distance when he glanced back down. The boy needed attention, but the surveillance equipment would have to be dealt with first. He didn't want to put Cloud down as he was, covered in debris and wearing a rapidly-disintegrating gown. The possessions Sephiroth habitually used were spartan, but he had a few blankets gifted to him by Genesis and Angeal that were sitting in his linen closet, so he retrieved one of those, wrapped Cloud in it, and set him down on the couch.
"Stay here for a moment," he said quietly, brushing a little more dust out of the toddler's close-cropped hair. "I won't be long."
And the boy stiffened as he stood, a very strange expression crossing his face, but Sephiroth didn't linger to pay it any mind. He walked around, listening intently, and methodically destroyed the bugs that had been planted in his absence. In total, he found eight. He stepped out onto his balcony to burn their crushed remains. There was no such thing as overkill for this.
"There we are," Sephiroth said. Cloud looked at him, for once not glaring, and there was an inquisitive tilt to his head. For some reason —perhaps because Sephiroth would have wanted someone to explain, when he was Cloud's age —he added "now no one can listen to us without our permission."
Cloud blinked at him, a bit of realization coloring his expression. So, he knew what surveillance was? Sephiroth filed that thought away for later as he knelt in front of the sofa and started looking Cloud over. "Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked, searching for cuts or bruises. Surely something was hurt after breaking down a wall and some very sturdy doors.
Only then did the glare return, and Cloud winced even as he tried to yank away from Sephiroth's hands.
"Stop," Sephiroth said, not letting him. Cloud stopped immediately, expression twisting with deeper pain, and Sephiroth also filed that fact away for later consideration. "I'm not going to hurt you further. Tell me where you are injured so I can heal you."
"Mmmmm —" Cloud said, squirming and shaking his head. "Mmm, my s —shoulder." He looked as if he'd betrayed himself when he spoke.
Children needed praise, didn't they? Sephiroth vaguely remembered one of the SOLDIERs who had children mentioning such a thing. "Thank you for telling me," he said, and carefully worked the edge of Cloud's torn medical gown over his shoulder. The skin there was deeply bruised, though already beginning to yellow along the edges thanks to his enhanced healing. Sephiroth activated his Cure and healed it completely as Cloud squirmed and clutched at his hair with his unoccupied hand.
"Is there anywhere else that hurts?" Sephiroth asked, letting the boy pull away from him. He shook his head rapidly, sending drywall dust raining down onto the blanket and couch. No. Sephiroth frowned, and he put one palm on Cloud's head, casting an experimental Cure. The frown deepened when it didn't seem to do anything for his obvious headache.
"Alright," he said softly, and then exhaled in relief when he heard the front door beep and click open as his friend finally arrived.
He needed the backup.
Cloud's head hurt. A lot. Things just kept building upon each other —not only was he still terrible at making sure his temper was carefully directed away from his worst enemy, not only was he trying and failing to reject the instinct to obey, but he could tell that he desperately needed food, water, and sleep. Something tickled in the back of his mind, a memory that didn't belong to him: no food or water before the procedure. That was the rule.
Gods, no wonder he was having so much trouble controlling his temper. His body was literally starving. He breathed hard, squinting through the throbbing in his head (obey, be good, please the Handler), and watched as Sephiroth turned toward the two who came in his front door.
Oh great. The Mouthy One was back. Cloud felt a tiny pang of satisfaction when he saw that the hideous crimson coat was still absent. He fervently hoped he'd ruined it.
"Eight this time," Sephiroth said with no explanation. Angeal sighed, and the Mouthy One tsk'd.
"Desperate, are they?" The Mouthy One said derisively, sauntering over to a stiff armchair and folding down into it like he owned the place.
"Some of them were sloppy," Sephiroth murmured. His hand was still on Cloud's head. Cloud utterly loathed how the warmth of it made his headache ease a little.
"It's probably a response to our failure," Angeal said, taking the sword from his back and —
Every thought in Cloud's head vanished beneath a wave of startled shock. The pain, too, vanished because he simply forgot it was there. He might even have stopped breathing. That was the Buster sword that Angeal was setting down on the coffee table.
Zack's Buster sword.
So where was Zack?
They might have kept talking. He didn't know. He couldn't tear his eyes from the sword, or keep his mind from racing in circles. Not for the first time, he cursed the number of memories he had lost to repeated mako poisoning. What was he forgetting? What had changed?
At some point Sephiroth tried to turn his face away from the Buster, but Cloud batted at his hand. With the distraction, he finally refocused enough to hear what the SOLDIERs were saying.
"Well look at that. Your baby assassin likes Angeal's weapon quite a bit, Seph."
"Quiet, Genesis. Something is wrong."
Cloud flailed a little, startled when Sephiroth lifted him under the arms and set him down next to the Buster. He reached for it out of pure instinct. The metal was cold under his palms, smooth from a lack of wear that left him feeling unsettled. He ran his fingers along its length until he hit the crossguard. Where were the nicks and dents he knew like the back of his hand?
"What are you seeing that's so interesting, kiddo?" Angeal asked, wondering. He was crouched down close to Cloud, elbows braced on his thighs, as he watched closely.
A thought came to Cloud that didn't really seem to be his. We could pick it up and hit a lot of bad scientists.
Hell yeah they could. They could go hit Hojo until he died. Boom, problem solved. But when Cloud did pick up the Buster, relishing its familiar weight even in an unfamiliar body, two alarmed exclamations overlapped and he was yanked away almost as quickly as he'd been set down.
Cloud's rationality returned as he was held in the air like a naughty kitten. What the fuck was that? he wondered, squirming angrily. It felt like he was going insane. His thoughts had no logic to them anymore. Would any of this even fix itself after sleep and food? He had no idea.
Still. That didn't mean he couldn't feel the tiniest bit gratified when Sephiroth looked at him with palpable stress.
Poor Sephiroth seemed about as close to panic as Angeal had ever seen him, holding the increasingly feral, squirming child slightly away from his body. He took pity on his friend, stepping forward to pick up the forgotten blanket and wrap the kid in it. Hopefully that would at least neutralize the threat of immediate violence.
"I think someone's just going to get more unmanageable without food and sleep," he said. Sephiroth's eyes automatically went to Genesis before he realized what Angeal meant. It took a lot of willpower to keep from laughing out loud, but he managed, patting Seph's arm. "How about you get him cleaned up and into some temporary clothes while I make dinner?" He would have to text Zack or one of the other SOLDIERs to go out and get some appropriately-sized clothes.
The kid glared at him with exhausted rancor. He ignored it.
"Yes," Sephiroth agreed, visibly relieved. "Please."
Rare was the day when Sephiroth said please, even to them. Angeal patted his arm again. "Leave your boots and coat," he advised, sensing that a lot of water was going to be spilled in the process of cleaning the feral kid up.
Sephiroth nodded gravely, handing over Cloud for a moment so he could do so. "Hey, kid," Angeal said absently, peering down at him. "How's it going." Cloud actually growled at him, which was extremely cute and also reminded Angeal of young Genesis. Luckily the pipsqueak was too tired to physically assault him again.
Or maybe he was just biding his time.
He gladly handed Cloud back when Sephiroth reached for him. They disappeared into the back of the apartment, toward the master bathroom. Angeal sighed and ran a hand through his hair before he pulled out his PHS and sent Zack a quick message. What a mess.
"Do you suppose Seph even has respectable ingredients in here?" Genesis asked from where he was lounging in the armchair
"If he doesn't, you are going to go get some," Angeal said, moving to find out the answer to that exact question.
"Absolutely not, get your puppy to go fetch."
"No homemade food for you, then. Go eat in the cafeteria."
Genesis gasped in outrage. "AnGEAL!"
Grinning to himself, Angeal let the silence lengthen as he poked around Seph's kitchen, searching for ingredients that would make a quick, hearty meal. As usual, it only took a little while before his friend's stubborn pride crumbled.
"Oh fine, if there really is nothing then I'll remedy the situation, you great galoot," he grumbled.
"Thank you, Gen," Angeal said serenely. He paused, tilting an ear toward the master bedroom at the sound of voices. When they stopped without any accompanying sounds of destruction, he continued. "Lucky for you, he has just enough for some spaghetti and meatballs."
"Well, that's something at least." Genesis paused, and there was the sound of a page turning. Angeal rolled his eyes. Of course he had pulled LOVELESS out already. "How badly do you think it's going?"
Angeal frowned as he set a tall pot of water on the stove to boil. "Not badly enough to call for reinforcements," he said eventually.
"And how long do you think that will last?"
"He can manage one cranky preschooler, Genesis," Angeal said, rolling his eyes again.
Genesis snorted. "That's not a preschooler, that's a tiny demon baby."
"You're just mad he barfed on your coat."
"He aimed for me, Angeal! I'm sure of it!"
Angeal laughed, then stopped when he heard the noises in the bathroom pick up again. This time, there was pained crying in the mix. He took exactly one step toward the kitchen's exit before hesitating. Seph's voice rolled in a soothing cadence. The shower started running, drowning out whatever else he might have heard.
He can handle this, Angeal told himself, turning back to his cooking.
"You realize he just signed SOLDIER up to be a child-rearing service for the next decade or two, don't you?" Genesis said wryly.
"It's not like he had a different option," Angeal responded with just a hint of warning. No SOLDIER worth his salt would hand a kid over to Science.
"Ripples form on the water's surface…"
"Yes, yes, the wandering soul knows no rest. Get to the point, Gen." His knife flew over the cutting board, filling the kitchen with a soothing, rhythmic percussion.
Genesis's voice was much closer when he answered, as he abandoned his chair to stand in the kitchen's entry. "I'm saying that Cloud is a liability. Even if we had no other option, SOLDIER has a serious weak spot now. It can and will be used against us."
Angeal turned his entire focus to Genesis, setting the knife down. "Yes, Cloud is a liability," he agreed, giving the topic the seriousness it deserved. "But I think he can be an asset too. An irreplaceable one."
Genesis's eyebrows rose. "Oh? And what kind of asset is that? We're already a department full of enhanced killers, Angeal. One tiny assassin-in-training isn't going to make us significantly more deadly."
"That's not what I mean. He's not valuable as a weapon for the department to use," Angeal said softly, looking toward where Seph and the kid were. "He's a mirror. A reason for Seph to think of himself as more than just a weapon, and fight for something better." When he glanced back at Genesis, his friend looked unusually solemn. "Seph finally has an opportunity to understand what we could never prove to him."
Genesis, finally grasping what Angeal was getting at, finished the thought. "That he really isn't alone," he sighed. "Alright, alright, I yield. Perhaps this has an opportunity to be worth the cost after all."
And Angeal, who had witnessed Sephiroth burn key documents to ensure that more children like Cloud —or, really, like himself —could ever be created, smiled as he turned back to his cooking. "It already is."