I've discovered that this is the perfect piece to write at three in the morning when I'm in odd moods. Take that as you will. Love to my beta, Eva, for putting up with everything I throw into her inbox at every hour of the day.
•••
Reeve was not, as such, in a lot of trouble. Duplicity was downright expected in Shinra, and Rufus might have been disappointed had Reeve not tried something. Still, 'a little trouble' in this company was enough to get you unfortunately jettisoned off of the seventieth floor, fully detailed suicide letter neatly printed and signed, tucked under a fancy corporate paperweight on your desk. Very few people contemplated where 'a lot of trouble' got you, since it generally involved Turks.
If Turks got into a lot of trouble, well, it still involved Turks. Or, at least it had. Rufus hoped to hell none of his batch had internal troubles, because he didn't think he could turn them on each other. On top of that, he didn't particularly want to; they were the closest thing to friends he had, and he guarded them just as well as they guarded him. They were with him now, Reno and Rude combating just-awake grumpiness, Elena abuzz and frantic, and Tseng very decidedly not in the infirmary.
Reeve stared at them as if they were his death walking. Rufus stared levelly back, unconcerned with how the man reacted to the Turks, more preoccupied with the pale cast to Reeve's complexion, the too wide eyes and the shaking hands. Even during his protests to the plate dropping (and even Rufus had thought that a horrifically planed move on his father's part), Reeve had not been prone to true hysteria. A bit of a raised voice, maybe, and too much color in his cheeks, but none of this looking like he'd just gazed into the abyss and it had laughed in his face. Well, if any metaphorical abyss tried to laugh at Rufus, he'd shoot it.
"Talk," Rufus said, figuring that the to the point order would be simple enough to work its way through Reeve's haze.
"After Aeris disappeared, the group followed her to the Ancient's Capital. Cloud knew she was there, I don't know how. They never know how Cloud knows these things."
He was babbling, but Rufus paid that very little mind. He picked the important things out of Reeve's rambling; for one, he still identified Avalanche as 'them', not 'we'. It was Cait Sith, unmistakably, that was part of the group - not Reeve.
"And?" Rufus prompted.
"It was a trap. I think." Reeve rubbed his hands nervously together. "Cloud went…psychotic, to be plain and simple about it. Aeris was praying for something, not even paying attention to them, and Cloud killed her with no warning…" he trailed off, and his erratic motions stopped with his voice.
Reeve might not have been a part of Avalanche, but he was a bit of a bleeding heart and had probably formed light attachments to them through Cait Sith. A senseless murder would have hit him hard, but Rufus suspected that wasn't the real problem at hand. Even Reeve wasn't this easily shaken by one death, one betrayal, as brutal as it has probably been.
"Gainsborough is dead?" Tseng asked, his tone giving away nothing.
Reeve managed a shaky nod. "I'm sorry."
"It's none of my concern."
The Turks' bizarre affection for Aeris Gainsborough was a point Rufus had meant to address eventually; some small idea that he should tell them to back off and properly remove themselves, but he'd never gotten around to it. Rufus had just assumed, and rightly, that she was one of those people who could charm love out of a rock, and set about avoiding one on one contact with her through all means necessary. As leader of the Turks in every thing but name he could have been out helping to bring her in, but he didn't want anything to do with Hojo's experiments and he really didn't want anything to do with a personality capable of inspiring something resembling mercy in Tseng and Reno. Now that she was dead, at least he didn't have to worry about that.
Rufus wondered briefly if he'd ever stop thinking in terms of expediencies, advantages and opportunities, or if he'd really want to stop.
"Gainsborough's death would be a blow to Hojo's research if Hojo were still here," Rufus pointed out. "Besides removing a consort of Avalanche, I don't see how this concerns Shinra so gravely."
"Cloud's gone unstable in the most horrible way," Reeve explained. "And he's now in Sephiroth's possession."
"…possession," Rufus repeated slowly.
Elena raised her hand until Reno elbowed her grumpily in the side, reminding her that Turks did not raise their hands and wait for permission to speak. She cleared her throat awkwardly and waved around the sheaf of papers she'd been carrying.
"And if I understand these right – which I'm not necessarily sure I do, since Hojo makes about as much sense as a dyslexic chocobo on karaoke night – Strife was part of the experiments Hojo conducted in Nibelheim." She shuffled through the papers, a nervous gesture Rufus was sure Tseng would speak to her about.
"You know," Reno broke in, "when he first showed up with Avalanche, I looked up Strife's file. He's officially AWOL, MIA – just like Sephiroth. I just figured, you know, he said 'fuck it' and left."
"That's the story he gave Avalanche," Reeve said, gathering himself together. "He's had a few incidents before of self-control loss, but obviously nothing this drastic. He also showed a strong delusion toward believing that he'd achieved Soldier first class, but I did a little digging myself and he never even neared that rank, was never even Soldier."
"And nobody decided that Strife was bugfuck before this?" Reno asked.
Tseng cleared his throat, immediately silencing Reno. "Strife's mental stability and Shinra ranking before the incident have very little to do with the situation now."
Tseng, Rufus decided, was due for a raise or a complimentary company pocket watch or some such.
"What matters," Rufus continued Tseng's train of logic, "is that we have a man with Soldier capabilities and an unstable psyche at this moment under Sephiroth's influence. With Hojo - and the remnants of the Jenova Project - gone as well, I strongly suspect he also has a hand in this. Neither has cause to love us, and Sephiroth has actively struck against us before. Shinra stands in a very precarious position."
"Why does everyone always want to kill us?" Reno whined, and Elena elbowed him.
The puzzle pieces of a plan were clicking themselves together in Rufus's mind, the outline strong and the whole picture beginning to fill itself in. There was a way to make all of this benefit Shinra, he was sure, if they just acted quickly and decisively. Sephiroth and Strife had to be dealt with, Hojo had to be brought down, and Avalanche needed to be neutralized; Rufus was not prepared to fight a three front war.
Decision made, Rufus straightened in his chair despite early morning fatigue. "Reeve, first you're going to tell me everything you've learned from Avalanche about Sephiroth and Jenova. Everything; if they know it, I'd better have the information as well. And then, your little toy is going to become a very important messenger."
•••
Cid and Tifa were making breakfast. Cid and Tifa made all of their meals, as they'd declared everyone else so incompetent with cookware that it was physically painful. Yuffie watched Tifa fry their last bit of bacon and Cid smoke over the tea kettle, and took deep cleansing breaths. Hysteria had passed; clarity was settling in, even for the 'children'.
She glared at Vincent and he raised his eyebrows at her, though he probably knew perfectly well that she was still miffed about that comment. Stupid zombie man.
"Where are we going today?" Nanaki asked, trying to look sage and not as if he was edging closer to the cooking fire, Tifa's frying pan, and the promise of bacon.
Barret frowned. "We need to rest. Gotta get somewhere safe, where we can get supplies and a good sleep, or ain't none of us gonna be good for nothing."
"Rocket Town is the closest," Tifa said.
"Fuck that," Cid snapped. "If those bastards are following us or something, I'm not leading them straight to my damn town."
"I don't think they'd be able to find us," Vincent said. "Sephiroth was always following Cloud. We're none of his concern; below his notice."
"That's a cheerful thought," Cid noted almost absently, lighting his third cigarette of the morning off of the embers of his second.
Tifa sighed and tossed Nanaki a piece of bacon. "Rocket Town is the best choice, Cid."
"Fine, but if the house gets screwed up I'm letting Shera hold you fuck heads responsible."
Yuffie thought, for a moment, that it was very generous of Cid to let Shera do much of anything and made a mental note to have a talk with him that involved emotional abuse, empowered women, and kicking him in the shins.
Tifa looked like she wanted to argue some point, but Cait Sith crackled to life. The stuffed cat had mostly faded to the background of Yuffie's mind, being that it had been on stand by mode the entire night and morning.
"Miss Lockheart."
Nearly everyone looked up toward the robot, startled to hear Reeve's voice from it.
"Yes, Reeve?" Tifa answered, admirably steady.
"I talked to the President." Reeve's grave tone and pronouncement were completely out of place with Cait Sith's permanent smile and jauntily tilted crown; it made the whole situation somehow worse.
"You what?" Barret demanded. "Knew we shouldn't have trusted you! Stupid damn Shinra can't even keep your damn mouth shut!"
"You try keeping anything from the Turks," Reeve said darkly. "And the conclusions you drew about my loyalty are your problem, not mine."
Maybe Yuffie didn't know Reeve inside and out, but she'd never heard him that angry or tired before. He sounded like a Shinra Executive, finally, and she couldn't be enthused that she now knew exactly why he was walking with the likes of them. Not that she'd put a lot of stock in Reeve in the first place: Yuffie was from Wutai; she knew what anyone from Shinra was like, with a bone deep certainty.
"So the President knows," Tifa said, almost too calmly. "What did he say?"
"Shinra would like…" Cait-Reeve stared at them with hollow cat eyes. "The President would like to extend an offer of aid."
There was a moment of pure silence before everyone erupted into shouting. Yuffie, having had quite enough of shouting over the past day or so, shoved her fingers in her ears and childishly set about ignoring them completely. Screw Shinra and his offer of aid; they could take care of themselves, and she knew the others would stick by that. Nobody needed help from blood-sucking, parasitic, culture-killing bastards, nobody.
Except when Yuffie finally removed her fingers from her ears a good ten minutes later it was just in time to hear Tifa let out a soft sigh and say 'fine'.
"Fine?" Yuffie yelped, in perfect unison with Barret's much fiercer objection.
"We barely know what's going on," Tifa said. "We don't know where Cloud is and now we don't even have the information he did. If we're going to get him back, we need help."
"And there's no one else who can help you," Reeve added.
Yuffie finally stood up from her seat on a slightly uncomfortable rock and stormed over to the stupid robotic cat and his stupid robotic controller. She wasn't altogether sure if Reeve could see her, but she waved a fist in Cait Sith's general direction anyway.
"We'll go to Wutai for help if we need to!"
Even if Godo would probably blow them off, even if her country had no help left to give themselves, much less anyone else. She'd have Wutai's blessings and nothing rather than Shinra's curse and bounty.
"Calm down, princess." From Cait Sith the nickname was endearing and affectionate; from Reeve it was patronizing and nearly rude. "This isn't about your personal problems. We're all facing a crisis here, and the President believes it would be beneficial for both of our groups if we at least talk."
"We'll meet you in Rocket Town," Tifa told him, completely ignoring the continued protests of Barret and Yuffie. "Someone can pick us up there."
That seemed to catch Cid's attention. "You better not send one of those pieces of shit helicopters. Those things might get you around Midgar, but I've worked on the engines and I don't trust 'em."
Reeve sighed. "We'll send the Highwind, if we can clear it with Palmer."
"Tell Palmer that if he doesn't clear it I'm running his fat ass over with a truck. Again."
Yuffie got the distinct impression that someone somewhere was rolling their eyes.
"I'll see what I can do."
And then Cait Sith's eyes went blank again, and the robotic cat slumped over. Evidently, Reeve wasn't going to grace them with the AI personality of his creation anymore.
For a moment, Yuffie couldn't decide whether to yell at Tifa (for agreeing to this shit) or yell at Cid (for having what passed for polite conversation with Reeve-gone-Shinra). It was taken out of her hands, however, when Barret decided to yell at both of them simultaneously, which was a talent Yuffie didn't think he had.
"You can't just go making decisions like that on your own, girl! Cause last I checked, you ain't even the leader of Avalanche, and the whole damn point of this ain't rescuing that spiky headed asshole, neither!" He rounded on Cid, completely unconcerned with keeping his gunarm pointed in unthreatening places. "And what the hell was that?"
Cid lit another cigarette. "What? You want to go all the way to Midgar in a helicopter?"
"You said you were leaving Shinra behind! They screwed you over!"
There were far too many people in the world, Yuffie decided, with tainted connections to Shinra. She'd really have to kick Cid in the shins.
"Tifa's right," Cid said, his expression suggesting he thought Barret was, well, stupid. "Shinra has resources we need. Believe me; I've seen the damn 'resources'. Best way to deal with those fuckers is take what you need from them and try not to give too much in return."
"It doesn't matter who's right or wrong," Nanaki interrupted. "The decision is already made."
"And maybe this'll get me close enough to kill somebody," Yuffie muttered.
•••
Cloud woke up to the familiar skin-crawling feeling that said he should have been cold, but the mako was blocking it. Below zero, then, or his internal defenses would have gladly left him to suffer. The air reeked of snow and damp, the steady burn of magic at once in all of his senses and beyond them completely. Curiosity told him to look up; a will-choking fear held him back, kept him splayed face down on wet stone.
"I can tell you're awake." The voice belonged to a woman, low and mature but unspeakably strange.
Steeling his nerves, Cloud pushed himself off the ground and into a low crouch.
"Where's my sword?" he rasped, his own voice slightly alien; he sounded as if…as if his vocal chords weren't used to him. "I –"
Kneeling in front of him, head canted gently to the side, was Sephiroth…and, then again – not him at all. Purple clouded, inhuman eyes, and there were hairline cracks across his face, glowing faintly green and oozing mako. Cloud, not generally a person given over to hysterics, screamed with an animal fear; kept on screaming as long as he could just to block out that thing's sudden laughter.
"Don't worry." There was something extremely disquieting about that feminine voice coming out of Sephiroth. "You won't die today. You've done me a service."
A roll of nausea in Cloud's stomach blanked out most of the terror. Aeris, he –
"Don't," the thing repeated. "Don't think on her; she deserved what she got."
Magic pulsed, and suddenly Cloud couldn't quite remember what he'd been thinking about, why there was bile in his throat. Even the creature in front of him seemed less twisted, less fundamentally wrong. In fact, his world had narrowed down to purple eyes and that incongruously female voice.
"What are you?" Cloud asked.
"I am Jenova, Calamity from the Skies, to use your human epithet." The facial features warped into a smirk more familiar, and the voice dropped to a smooth baritone. "I am Sephiroth, sainted son of your true queen."
Cloud moaned, low and sickly, and found himself completely unable to react further. "How? Why?"
"None of your concern," Jenova said. "It is not your place…"
She kept talking, but he couldn't pay attention to it anymore. He'd caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye, a few feet away from where he crouched. It sat in a tangle of slick tentacles, single eye wide and staring, purple lips moving with the words it used Sephiroth's body to say; the whole slimy mess pulsed like it was breathing, but there were no lungs to draw air into.
Jenova's head.
Cloud scuttled back, hand scrambling over rock until he got far enough away to vomit. Nothing, he felt, would ever make that sight bearable.
…he pulled himself up to peer into the tank, nausea already twisting his insides. He'd seen a lot of things during the war, but…
He'd never made it to the war. Hadn't he been too young?
…he'd never seen anything like this, the monsters curled in on themselves. Their bodies, those twisted things, glowed and moved with an ancient heartbeat.
"Sephiroth?" he asked. "What is this?"
A hand tangled roughly in Cloud's hair, yanking his head back with enough force to make his eyes water.
"Those aren't yours!" Jenova snarled; it took Cloud a terrified moment to realize that the voice also echoed through his mind, and had been there in his head since he'd made it to Midgar. "How dare you disrespect me by forgetting how you came to me!"
She flung him away with Sephiroth's strength, and he landed like an abused toy on the floor next to her disembodied head. A tentacle slithered around his neck and yanked him forward, impervious to the strength of even his struggles. He stared into that empty white eye; saw the stars and chaos and everything brilliant and ugly.
Stared into that and couldn't tell whether he hated it or wanted to fall in love with it.
"We will talk more when my son returns," she told him, with her voice and with Sephiroth's and in his own mind. "Rest in my arms, warrior of Jenova."
The sleep spell washed over him like a blessing.
•••
Somewhere, in a little town south of Junon whose population no one would miss, the body Sephiroth had borrowed stopped in the slaughter. He disliked it when Mother made decisions without him, but Jenova had always done as she'd pleased, and Cloud Strife pleased her.
They'd argued about it, as they so rarely did, but he'd given into her whims because she'd suffered enough to deserve it. Still, she knew what he wanted out of Cloud Strife and his unique abilities, and that promise sang in his head now.
Failed experiments were of no use to Sephiroth; nestled in Cloud Strife's soul, mind and memory were something much, much more worthwhile.
Every god needed a prophet, and Sephiroth would have only the best.
Zack.
•••
End notes: I don't usually do these, but putting this at the beginning of the chapter would have spoiled somethings. I'm not entirely sure when this story stopped being a Sephiroth/Cloud as such (oh, there will be slash, remember who you're talking to). I'm treading into new territory, and am quite likely to fall into the swamp, to use a metaphor for the whole thing. This is an experiment for me, and one of the most plot intensive fics I've ever decided to take on - please bear with me through any rough spots and tell me what you think of it all.
Next chapter is all Avalanche, I think, which makes me sad because I adore writing for Rufus et al.
Koni