A/N: My plan, if I can hold to it, is to have 2-4 more chapters to tie up loose ends, then the time skip, then the showdown with Jenova. Thanks everybody for sticking around for the whole ride!
"Like you would let us live after we touched yer pet!"
"Who said anything about letting you live?"
The meathead charges first, as if he had never heard of the concept of 'strength in numbers', and releases a battle cry that pales in comparison to Darkstar's earlier Woof! "Ya bastard!"
Sephiroth doesn't move. Doesn't blink. Doesn't slouch or tease or play with his food like Cloud was so used to. Instead, he watches the big meathead, his lips stretched as thin as his slitted pupils; waits til the thug is nearly upon him, one meaty fist raised to attack; and then slashes upwards in a beautifully clean arc, not a single ounce of energy wasted as that standard issue broadsword carves straight through bone and tendon alike.
"Don't. test. me." Sephiroth warns as the thug's severed hand falls to the ground.
And, really, it's so unlike anything Cloud has ever seen, that he just wants to marvel at the sheer prowess of it all – he knows for a fact that those broadswords aren't that sharp (meaning Sephiroth really is that strong). But he can't. The anger on Sephiroth's face and the impatience in his tone are so familiar, so dreaded, that it fans the flames still nipping at Sephiroth's heels. Stirs up the fears still lurking in Cloud's chest – the ones that make it so hard for him to accept this new Sephiroth completely. And that almost have him wishing he didn't remember.
Cause at least then, he could lose himself to the fantasy that Sephiroth really was as wonderful as he so desperately wanted to believe.
"Argghhhhhhhh!"
The shrill cry doesn't deter Sephiroth in any way. If anything, he only glares harder – something that would have reduced a reasonable person to a quivering mess. But the meathead doesn't so much as tremble as he swings his uninjured fist through the flames surrounding them. Doesn't pause to shit himself as Sephiroth lifts his blade into the smoke-filled air and, with a flick of his wrist, lops off the thug's remaining hand.
The thug screams. Clamors. "It's not growin' back! Mako's supposed ta make it grow back!"
"Goddess above. That's not how mako works."
Cloud doesn't hear them. Can't listen. He sees Sephiroth twitch, and his entire body tenses, head to toe. He knows what's coming next. Can already feel Masamune searing through his ribcage. Can already hear that cruel voice digging into him once more – "Is this the pain you felt before, Cloud?"He wants to cry. Wants to beg and plead and yell at Sephiroth to be better, dammit! He's supposed to be better. But then Sephiroth pivots on his heel and cuts a very neat and a very straight line through the thug's neck – impressive with how badly his hands shake (or was that Cloud's vision?) – and kicks the body off to the side and away from Cloud's roommates.
Oh.
That was… unexpected.
Air rushes out of Cloud's lungs, and the fire and the smoke ebb right before his very eyes. The pain remains, yes, but the phantom voices – "Let me remind you. This time, you won't forget."– are gone. The nightmare fades, and Cloud can finally think clearly enough to remember that the pain he's feeling is from what those thugs and troopers had done to him. Not Sephiroth. Sephiroth had come for him. Because…
Because…
Does… Does Sephiroth actually care about him? After everything Cloud had said to him? After everything terrible he had done? How horribly he had failed?
"Anyone else?" Sephiroth's smooth (and furious) baritone cuts through Cloud's jumbled thoughts before he can figure out how to breathe again. Before he can figure out how to act normally again.
So, he settles for gawking instead.
Reno, however, doesn't. "I saw this on the Discovery Channel, yo!" he cackles. "Behemoths hafta prove their worth t' attract a prospective mate!"
"Reno."
"What? Y'know humor's the way I cope!"
If Cloud's grateful to the thugs for one thing, it's that they didn't string him up upside down like Hojo would have. Like Hojo had done on more than one occasion. "What's that, boy? You want another few hours like that? Well, I'm happy to oblige! Ke ke ke ke ke!"
Right side up, he could see Sephiroth so much clearer. Could marvel as the man swatted another bullet out of the way like it was nothing more than a Bugaboo. Could watch, dazed, as he slipped effortlessly past another thug's guard and carved a shallow, yet no less lethal, gash into the thug's sternum.
Cloud should be scared. Disturbed. Terrified, really. He'd never seen Sephiroth so furious before, not even when he had razed Nibelheim to the ground. Had never seen him so fast, so precise, so deadly. But at the same time, he'd never seen him so serious, so restrained, so merciful even though the men he was facing hadn't surrendered.
Sure, limbs were flying left and right (quite literally), but gone was the stalking, predatory grace of an obsessed (possessed?) man. Gone was the sadistic need to make those around him suffer for as long and as cruelly as possible. But, most importantly for Cloud, gone was Sephiroth's sick fixation with impaling his victims. Instead, what remained was a man who knew exactly how to end a life with as little effort as possible. A man whose every move was calculated to be as efficient and as fatal as possible.
And so stark is the difference, that Cloud is able to keep his head above the smoke of his memories and just appreciate the total powerhouse that is Sephiroth.
"Take that!"
Sephiroth barely moves, barely looks at the thug attacking him, but the knife still goes gliding past his head, not a single strand of hair displaced. "Is that the best you can do?" he taunts, and the smug little smirk on his face does things to Cloud that Cloud can't quite explain. Partially because he's too busy sagging against his restraints (and sighing too maybe, he's not entirely sure) to focus on anything else. All he knows is he needs to get a better look.
And, oh, what a look it is.
"Gah!" the thug hollers as he goes stumbling past, but by that point, it's already too late. Sephiroth has already swung his sword-arm out, like it was all part of the same fluid dance, and ended the creep's life before Cloud could finish admiring just how perfect Sephiroth was.
Wait.
No.
Before he could finish admiring just how perfect Sephiroth's stance was. That's what he meant, of course. Naturally.
"We won't letcha get away with that!"
Another three men throw themselves at Sephiroth, perhaps in retaliation for their fallen comrade. But Sephiroth's not worried. And neither is Cloud. As long as it distracts him from his wandering thoughts, then he doesn't care what they do.
It's not like they could touch Sephiroth anyway.
Not when Sephiroth flicks the blood from his sword with a quick snap of his wrist, stares on impassively as one of the thugs crumples abruptly to the ground (Chaosent, probably – Reno and Rhapsodos were far too flashy for that and Rude far too focused on fighting with his fists), and—
Boom!
—and watches, befuddled, as the two remaining thugs erupt into flames before his borrowed sword can meet its mark.
"…Genesis?"
"Goddess, Sephiroth. If you would stop prancing around like you still have that ridiculous odachi of yours, then I wouldn't feel obligated to cover your back."
Cloud's not sure what's going on here. Sephiroth had been all clean lines and deadly grace, the broadsword just as much of a flawless extension of his arm as Masamune normally was. Rhapsodos couldn't have missed that – he was just as obsessed with Sephiroth as Cloud himself… No. Just no. Cloud's not obsessed. Not in a million years. He doesn't care about Sephiroth. Not the (not cute) furrow to the man's brow, or the realization that slowly dawns in his eyes, or even how he indulges Rhapsodos again.
"…My apologies. I'll stop… prancing around?"
"Hmph. You better."
What Cloud does care about, as he pulls himself from his Sephiroth-watching high, is the way Kotch slides further into the shadows. The way he tries to make a break for it while everybody else is otherwise distracted.
Or, well, almost everybody. Chaosent notices, like he always does, and already has his gun raised and ready.
"Stop." Cloud says, before he can really think things through. "Don't kill him."
It's a request he doesn't fully understand himself and one he can tell Chaosent doesn't agree with (though he doesn't know whether the frown is more Vincent upset on his behalf or Chaos disappointed that he has to rein in his murderous intent). Whichever it is, though, it doesn't really matter. Neither does Reno's talk of 'serious brain damage', Rude's concerned tilt of his head, or Rhapsodos's threat to eviscerate Kotch on the principle of the matter.
For when Sephiroth speaks, nothing else matters. "After what they did to you?"
The possessive note in Sephiroth's voice sends a shiver down Cloud's spine – he's heard it before, when Sephiroth was raving about 'join me' this and 'my puppet' that. But this? This is different. A different sound, a different feel. And Cloud's surprised to find he doesn't mind it at all. "H-He…" he tries to explain – but why shouldn't they cut Kotch down where he stands? It's not like Cloud has any particular sympathy for the man.
Okay, my beautiful ladies! Time to line up for the don!
Oh. Right. "He and the guy with the dumbass pompadour—" Cloud tries to gesture with his head (since his hands are otherwise occupied), but his vision swims, pain flares up, and he groans somewhat pathetically in turn – "Agh…"
"Cloud, don't move."
"No, stop… I'm fine…" he says, perhaps a little pathetically, but they have to know. They can't kill them just yet. They don't deserve it. "They… Those assholes… The first time around… they tried to gang rape Aerith and Tifa."
"What."
"Whoa, Rude! No maimin' just yet!"
Elena can't believe her luck.
She had thought her entire time in Advanced Weaponry would be spent hiding out in the air ducts, calculating the best way to sneak into Scarlet's office so she could rummage about for evidence that might not even exist (wouldn't that be just her luck). But no. The perfect opportunity fell right at her feet. Was practically gifted to her on a golden platter when Scarlet ordered her trooper lackey – Wyland? Wyborne? – to give her and the two 'big, strong SOLDIERs' time alone.
And, really, she's not sure how Kunsel had managed it. Managed to suffer Scarlet's straying hands with only a stuttered "I-I'm 16, M-Madame Director." But Elena had a mission to complete. And she was speed-crawling through the ducts after the dismissed trooper before Scarlet could finish running through her seduction playbook – "Oh, but you wouldn't leave me here to fend for myself, would you? What if those monsters get loose?"
Elena had nearly gagged at that one. But nearly had been the key word – she had kept silent, slinking through the ducts until she was able to get the drop (quite literally) on Wyland (Wyborne? Wy… Whatever the hell his name was), hog-tie him, and drag his sputtering self into a nearby storage closet.
"What's Scarlet after?"
"Go to hell!" is the snarled reply.
"Hmm…" Elena hums, trying her best to harness her inner Tseng (what would he do in this situation?). "Even when Scarlet has clearly thrown you away for new and improved toys, you're still blindly loyal to her?" she drawls, walking a slow circle around her prey. "Very admirable." Wyland scowls. "But also very foolish," she says—
Bang!
—And shoots a hole through his hand.
"AHHH! You crazy bitch!"
"Perhaps," she acknowledges, still using that deep, mocking, almost sultry tone she had learned from Tseng (the one she's never going to use around the President). "But I'm also the crazy bitch that knows every. single. non-vital point in your body." She smirks and makes a show of reclining against the crate in front of Wyland and tapping the barrel of her borrowed gun against the tip of his nose. "How much you wanna bet I make it through every round in this magazine before you bleed to death?"
The fear is there, but his spine hasn't left him yet. "Untie me, you little coward!"
"Why?" she taunts, savoring the tremor that goes through his body. "So you can call your thug friends and have them chase me all over kingdom come just like Cloud?" She shakes her head and allows herself a little derisive laugh for good measure. "You're welcome to try. But in case you haven't realized, there's no one around to hear you scream. So, let's try this again." She pushes herself back to her feet and cocks her gun. "What's Scarlet after?"
It doesn't last long after that, Stevens and Marshall the only ones left standing (shivering) next to Kotch and Scotch because of their unsympathetic involvement in Zack's death. Cloud can tell Sephiroth's not happy. His eyes flash, his lips thin, and Cloud finds his anger refreshing for the first time ever – "I'm sure the President wouldn't mind if we had a nice long chat with these felons first. They might have valuable intelligence for us."
Still, he lets Reno and Rude worry about corralling them, and strides forward, stopping first to apologize to Cloud's roommates ("…Sorry."), and again to commend Darkstar for so thoroughly trouncing the trooper-who's-not-Stevens ("Good boy."), before retrieving his PHS from the pocket of his borrowed pants. "Mr. President? …Yes, sir. We've located Cloud." His eyes lock on Cloud's, and Cloud forgets how to breathe again. Can't breathe. Not when the fury on Sephiroth's face slides into something more like… relief? "He will require considerable medical attention, but… he lives."
And that's that. Cloud stops listening. Tunes everything out in favor of chasing the relief in Sephiroth's eyes. After everything, Sephiroth's relieved to see him? Relieved to find him alive even though he had nearly gotten his roommates killed? Even though he couldn't do anything right?
Even though he's nothing more than a failure… Sephiroth… Sephiroth really cares about him?
Sephiroth nods, and warmth floods Cloud's body. He almost smiles back, sheepish and unsure, almost tells Sephiroth he's glad to see him too (and, wow, he really is), but then Sephiroth opens his mouth, "Affirmative, sir," and the effect is broken. "We've secured the premises."
Oh.
Right.
His words weren't meant for him. He wasn't answering Cloud. Couldn't hear Cloud's deepest, darkest, most embarrassing thoughts. Not anymore, at least. Which is fine. It's ok. Cloud's ok. Really, he is. He doesn't need Sephiroth's concern. Doesn't need his pity. And he certainly doesn't need to know if Sephiroth actually cares about—
"Understood."
The phone call is over entirely too soon for Cloud to be ready, for him to have prepared an answer to any one of the thousand questions that could fall from Sephiroth's lips. And what wonderful lips they are, twisting and turning like that. Forming words. Caressing Cloud's name.
Cloud can't help but stare a little harder.
"Cloud… can you hear me?"
It's all funky, he thinks, like a dying tape recorder playing its message back from underwater. But, yeah, he can hear him. Can see him, too. See his hand reaching out closer.
Closer.
And closer.
"Don't deny me. Embrace me."
Cloud flinches away.
He doesn't mean to. He shouldn't have, he can tell, from the pain that flickers through Sephiroth's eyes. "No, it's ok!" he tries to reassure. Tries to find some way to drag that relief back, but he doesn't know how. Doesn't know what to say. 'You can touch me,' might work, right? But the words get jumbled up along the way, and instead he finds himself practically begging, "Please, touch me."
There might be a whistling sound from behind him, or a choking sound in front of him, but he doesn't know. Doesn't care. All that matters to him right now is Sephiroth and the (heartbreaking?) frown on his face. "No, Cloud… That's not appropriate."
"Not appropriate?" Cloud growls, irritation (and no small amount of shame) ripping through the fog trying to wrap itself around his brain. "I'm not asking you to have your way with me."
Sephiroth's nose, his brow, his entire faces wrinkles with disgust and another wave of shame clings to Cloud like a vice. "I'm not interested in a child," he says. And, really, that should be a relief to hear, that Sephiroth isn't some sort of creepy pedophile. But it's not, not entirely. It rankles Cloud's nerves and sends another sharp pang right through him – bitterness this time. "Cloud…?"
"I'm an adult, thank you," he reminds him, cause that's really what's bothering him. Not the fact that Sephiroth's not interested in him.
"Cloud, you're 14."
"Yeah, a 14-year-old with memories of being an adult," he snaps, equally angry at himself for being so upset over nothing and at Sephiroth for being so Gaia-damn frustrating. "Would everybody just stop treating me like a fucking child for five minutes? I'm not made of porcelain, dammit!"
Sephiroth looks like he's the one that's been struck. Like he was the one who had the snot beaten and kicked out of him. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean… I… Ok…"
Cloud can't explain why he wants Sephiroth to touch him so much. He shouldn't want him to touch him, really.
But he does.
Oh, he does.
And that's why, when Sephiroth reaches out a hand this time – ever so reluctantly, ever so delicately – to brush the hair out of Cloud's face… well, Cloud melts into the touch. He sucks in a shaky breath and lets his eyes flutter shut, even as those fingertips scorch their way across his temple. Even as the sound of muffled laughter echoes its way throughout the room from behind them.
Was he forgetting something?
"I'm sorry, Cloud," Sephiroth says, his thumb burning a gentle path across Cloud's cheek. And, oh… what was Cloud mad about again? "This is all my fault."
"N-No," Cloud tries to say, tries to contradict him – it's Cloud's own fault for needing to be rescued in the first place. For dragging his roommates into this. But that thought only bothers him for half a second at most, for when he peels his eyes back open, the only words left on his lips are, "Your hair… it's in a bun."
The endearingly confused look is back, and Cloud does his best to draw it all in. "Oh… It was the only way I could fit it under the helmet."
"I…" I like it? Even with his head swimming, Cloud still doesn't have the courage to say that. "It… It's a good look."
Sephiroth lets go of Cloud's face (Cloud doesn't mourn the lost warmth, no siree) to press a tentative (shy?) hand to his hair. "…I shall endeavor to wear it like this more often." His eyes flick over Cloud's battered form like he feels the need to reciprocate, "You look…" only to flash worryingly again at the sorry state that Cloud's clothes are in – his torn and button-less shirt, his missing belt and suspenders (he's just glad his pants are still around his waist and not lying in a heap on the floor next to said belt). "They didn't… They weren't…" Sephiroth groans, frustrated (a sound that doesn't have Cloud's face heating up again, nope, definitely not). "Johnson?"
Cloud shudders, just like he had then. But he realizes entirely too late, realizes from the storm brewing behind Sephiroth's eyes, that that wasn't the right reaction. "Wait, no! They didn't!" he clamors to regain Sephiroth's attention, before the man can change his mind about keeping those creeps alive. "They weren't interested in that! They were just gonna cut me up and send me back to Rufus in pieces!"
An offended grunt, an aggravated shout – "How's that any better, Blondie?" – a truly sinister growl, a roar of fire, and a questioning bark all follow in quick succession. But not even Rhapsodos's misleadingly amiable voice – "Oh, I wouldn't try to flee if I were you" – or Chaosent's ominous follow-up – "If you do, I might have to reconsider that 'no chump-chomping' thing" – can tear Cloud's eyes away from Sephiroth. "I see…" the man rasps, his already thin pupils contracting even further. "Well, you won't have to worry about that anymore, Cloud." Sephiroth pauses to breathe in, his face still tight, and Cloud tries to tell himself he isn't disappointed that the man's chest is covered by that sweater. "But from now on, if you want to leave the Tower, then either Genesis or myself will have to accompany you. Is that understood?"
"H-Huh...? O-Oh... O-Ok."
People are talking, he thinks. Sephiroth too, maybe. But that's not what holds his attention right now. There's not a single drop of blood on Sephiroth anywhere, and he just doesn't understand it. How could one man be so precise, so controlled, so perfect… and yet, so terrif – "…We need to do something about your wounds first."
"…Huh?"
"Check for a concussion too," Rhapsodos says.
"Looks like that's the last of 'em!"
The diminutive Behemoth slides off Zack's sword with a sickening schlick, and Angeal wrinkles his nose. There was nothing honorable about this. That monster had been an infant – one that had nearly taken Zack's head off when he dropped his guard, yes, but an infant nonetheless. And they'd been forced to kill it, forced to kill all of the monsters in this cave, all because these criminals wanted something from Cloud.
Angeal hates it.
Hates lying to Zack when the boy was so clearly pumped to be on a real mission with him again. Hates standing here doing nothing while Cloud was in danger. Hates the waiting. But, most of all, he hates the silence. Hates the uncertainty of Cloud's situation.
Buzz.
Angeal's heart skips a beat and he nearly drops his PHS with how fast he grabs it. Please let Cloud be alive. "H-Honey, is everything ok?"
"Cloud's alive," Rufus says, and Angeal allows himself the freedom to sag with relief, right then and there. "He's severely wounded, from what Sephiroth has told me, but he will survive."
"Oh, thank Gaia."
"Quite," Rufus agrees, the rare sound of relief to be found within his voice. "Though, we have more than Gaia to thank this time around."
Angeal doesn't disagree, but that hardly matters right now. "Permission to finish things here then, sir?"
He can almost hear the smirk in the President's voice. "I thought you'd never ask."
Cold.
So fucking cold.
Cloud shivers and tries to pull the jacket Vincent had given him closer to his battered body. Of course Blizzaga was the best thing they had to numb the pain. Of course Vincent's suit jacket wouldn't be nearly thick enough to counteract the ice freezing his veins. And of course Sephiroth would have some Gaia-damn problem with him accepting the jacket in the first place (not that he had really understood what Rhapsodos's scoffing was all about – "What do you expect to do then, wrap him up in your sweater and waltz around the city half-naked?")
"Hold still, little bird."
What was his problem anyway? It's not like Cloud wearing Vincent's jacket to keep… well, less cold was a sign of weakness anyway. Neither was the way he had clung to Sephiroth's hands after the man had laid him down on the floor. Sure, there's the distinct possibility he had begged Sephiroth not to let go ("No… please don't..."), but that didn't mean anything. He was just so damn cold.
Besides, wasn't Sephiroth the one who had insisted they cast Blizzaga on Cloud in the first place? Wasn't he the one who had said he knew how capable Cloud was, how strong Cloud was, but that it would make him feel better if Cloud let them tend to his wounds?
Hell if Cloud actually believed that – he knows how weak he is – but Sephiroth had spoken with such conviction, had looked at him with so much pain in those haunting green eyes, that he had thought that it had actually meant something. Had thought that it was more than just pity for the… for the…
Wait.
…Human… pinata.
Had Cloud actually said that? Had he really… He tries to push his way past the veil covering his memories. Strains against the blur concealing everything that had happened in the past… who-knows-how-long. Strains for any inkling of why the words 'human pinata' make him feel so… so very warm inside… Had he really… really insisted… that he was fine… because he wasn't… wasn't being used as a 'human pinata' anymore?
Cloud squints at the green light above him – was there something there?—
"Genesis, do you have Scan materia on you?"
—And gasps when the light above him constricts and slits itself through, and he realizes it's actually Sephiroth he's staring at. Sephiroth's eyes he had been gazing into while he lied on the floor. While… while… Wait. Hadn't Sephiroth gone to help… help somebody else instead? "I've got it!" he hears himself yell anyway, feels himself jiggle his bound arms, ignoring the pain that that action shoots up. "I've still got your materia!" He could be useful, he swears!
Sephiroth says something ("It's your materia now, Cloud"? … "May I?"?), Cloud's pretty sure – he can see his lips moving. But then… But then, Sephiroth takes a step forward, places a hand over Cloud's arm, and every molecule in Cloud's body lights up. Every ounce of energy devotes itself to this man in front of him. Devotes itself to staring at Sephiroth as he thaws the ice in Cloud's heart.
Warm.
So very warm.
"What did I just tell you?"
Cold crashes back down on Cloud like a bucket of ice water, and he shudders. Shudders at the chill, the abruptness of it all, and the realization that he had let Sephiroth cast Scan on him using the materia still in his arm.
…And he had liked it.
"It's too much… Genesis, I need you."
"Now, that's a phrase I haven't heard in a long time."
Fear…
Had that been fear in Sephiroth's voice? Fear over the state Cloud was in?
Cloud lets his head loll to the side, his cheek resting against the floor, and tries to peer around Darkstar's protective form. Tries to ignore the hopeful woof! and eager wagging of Darkstar's head tentacle. Cause he needs to get a better look at Sephiroth. Sephiroth, who looks just as imposing kneeling there, hovering over…
Shit.
His roommates.
Cloud had forgotten about his roommates.
"I'm sorry," he pleads, his voice sounding weird to his own ears. "I'm so sorry." He hadn't meant to get them involved, he swears. Hadn't meant to forget about them. Not Colin and Logan, who hunch their shoulders and refuse to look at him. And certainly not Garrett, who doesn't make a peep even as Sephiroth tends to his wounds. "I didn't mean…" But Colin and Logan won't look at him, and he chokes on his own tears. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
"Cloud, are you—"
"Woof! Woof! Woooofff!"
"Oh, for the love of the Goddess," Rhapsodos cuts them all off with a sharp sigh. "That is enough, all of you."
"Woof! Woooff!"
"No." The green of Rhapsodos's Curaga fades away as he points from Darkstar to the floor. "You. Sit down and hush. Now."
Whineeeee…
"Don't give me that."
"Genesis—"
"Sephiroth." Rhapsodos warns. "Unless you're trying to tell me you that can't handle even a simple head wound, then stick to your patient and leave me to mine. I do not need your help."
"But—"
"No buts," Rhapsodos tells him, in no uncertain terms. "As for you, little bird," he scowls down at Cloud, though his hand on Cloud's face, redirecting Cloud's attention, is surprisingly gentle (and Cloud doesn't think that's because of fear over what Darkstar might do). "Your little friends are fine. So, do you think you can give me your full attention for more than 5 seconds?"
"B-But—"
Rhapsodos rolls his eyes. "What did I just say about buts?"
"I-I…"
"Honestly, you're the worst student I've ever had."
Cloud stares up, uncertain, at Rhapsodos. What was he supposed to do? He had nearly gotten his roommates killed. Had inconvenienced everybody. Screwed things up on so many levels. Gawked at Sephiroth. Held his hands. Cried. Cried. Cried.
So what does he do? He does what he does best – ignores his problems and accepts the distraction for what it is.
"I'm the—" he sniffles – "I'm the only student you've ever had," he reminds Rhapsodos, and that's when he finally hears the lisp ("I'm da onwy thudent you'b evew had"). Had the concussion and pain masked it before? Or had Blizzaga just made it that much worse?
"Don't you backtalk me, young man."
"How are you still conscious, little bird?"
It's not much, just bits and pieces, but Rhapsodos had been worried too, hadn't he? Had come to his aid. Reduced men to ash because of him. And even now. Even now, his hands shake, his mouth frowns, his brow furrows in frustration.
"You are welcome to call me Genesis, though. You've earned that right by now."
That's right.
Rhapsodos had said that, hadn't he? Had offered to let Cloud call him by his first name. But Cloud hadn't thought they were there yet. Had decided he didn't need any more friends. Didn't want any more friends. There was enough on his plate already with Sephiroth back and alive again. But now? Now, everything's different. Now… he thinks he's ready. "I'm glad to see you too… Genesis."
Rhapsodos… No, Genesis scowls. "Don't think you're getting out of your punishment that easily."
"Huh?"
"Wererats. You'll be fighting nothing but Wererats for an entire month after this."
"But I can kill Wererats in my sleep."
"In frog form."
"…You really are mad."
This was it.
This was her chance, Elena thinks as she darts down the hallway. Her only chance to prove herself. Cloud had been saved, the Turks had their orders to arrest Scarlet, and if she didn't get there before them – before her sister – then she could kiss all of her dreams goodbye.
Sure, she had a taped confession that Scarlet was the mastermind behind this entire plot, but if she actually took Scarlet down herself? By herself? Well, the President would give her her job back for sure!
Which is why she had left that idiot trooper behind, still hog-tied in that closet (a gift for Tseng and the President for later). She had healed the holes in his hands first, of course – she wasn't that kind of monster – but she hadn't dawdled any longer. Hadn't given the fool the chance to finish his inane driveling – "Where the hell are you—?" – before she was flying out of the closet, down the corridor, counting the seconds tick by and praying to anybody listening that her feet would be faster than her sister's.
Five minutes – 300 seconds – pass in agonizing silence, the only sound to be heard that of her dress shoes clicking across the metal floor, bringing her closer and closer to her goal. But then, she finally – finally – swerves around the last corner and throws the door to Scarlet's office open with no regard spared to her slightly elevated pulse or the shock on both SOLDIERs' faces.
"Hands in the air, Scarlet! You're under arrest!"
It's not until Genesis announces that he's done all he can, that Cloud's body can't handle the strain of being healed any longer, that Cloud realizes just how little he had thought things through. Just how little attention he had devoted to the manner in which they would make it back to the Tower. So, as it stands, when Sephiroth lifts him from the floor, all Cloud can focus on is the care with which the man cradles him to his chest. The ease in which Cloud fits into his arms.
The warmth that fills his body.
And the rumbling of Sephiroth's chest against him – "Let's get you out of here."
As it stands, a stammered "O-Ok…" is all Cloud can manage in return, no thought spared for the jacket-less form of Vincent lifting Garrett in much the same manner.
"Meet ya back at the Tower, yo," Reno bids them farewell. "I think Rude wants ta have a little chat with our new friends first."
"Indeed." Rude agrees.
Cloud doesn't listen to them. His eyes seek out Sephiroth again, almost on instinct, and when he sees the man staring back, his brain-to-mouth filter stutters to a stop. "I'm glad you came."
"We wouldn't have left you here all by yourself."
"No," Cloud insists, spurred on by what he swears is concern in those mesmerizing green eyes. "I'm glad you came."
A beat of silence, a soft intake of breath, and a faltered step later and Sephiroth responds, "…Of course, Cloud. Anything for you." Words that have Cloud sinking deeper into Sephiroth's hold to hide his burning face. "…Cloud?"
"I'm cold," he mumbles in return, refusing to acknowledge the conflicting emotions swirling inside of him.
Though, perhaps if he had realized that Sephiroth would curl his arms tighter (but no less gently) around him, Cloud might have come up with a better excuse. "Is that better?" the frustrating man asks, ignoring the way Cloud chokes on his breath.
"Y-Yes… T-Thank you."
"…My pleasure."
And as Sephiroth steps out into the moonlight, and in spite of how infuriatingly embarrassing the man is, Cloud comes to a startling (but not entirely unwelcome) realization.
For the first time since he had remembered, Cloud feels safe.
A/N: I pulled Sephiroth's "Is that the best you can do?" line directly from his fight with Genesis and Angeal in canon - which along with Cloud being so fixated on him is why Genesis got annoyed and took care of those thugs before Sephiroth could XD