Chapter Sixty-Three:
When Caia opened her eyes, she couldn't believe she was still on the airship, she'd been so certain she was dying. Now, other than a few aches, she felt fine. Better than fine. Elio was feet away from her, still in mako, if she stood she'd be able to see the timer.
She was up and moving before she'd finished the thought. But she'd overestimated her state, and the number of blankets covering her. They tangled around her legs and arms, she snapped out her wing to balance and it whacked into a warm body with a grunt, then she was tripping.
An arm wrapped around her waist, holding her upright while another hand untangled the blankets. He, for she knew exactly who held her, steadied her as she kicked the blankets out of the way then walked her the few steps to Elio's tank. She splayed her hands on the glass, finally getting a good look at her son, and the countdown timer. Fifteen minutes.
She felt less frantic now that she could see him, he looked so peaceful. His eyes closed. The machine hummed and clicked. She didn't know how Aeva had stabilized her, for she had no doubt she'd been seconds away from death, but she would be forever grateful. She could survive fifteen minutes. She had a few aches and she was tired. So tired. But she wasn't in immediate danger.
The arm around her waist slid until hands circled her. Strong hands. Powerful hands. She dropped hers twining her fingers with his. They were so warm.
"You're still here." She missed him. It was too quiet in her head.
"You asked me not to leave, so I didn't." His voice was a rumbled purr against her hair. Dimly she realized the straps of her halter were dangling, strange symbols covering her chest. She went to rub them off, but Sephiroth caught her hand.
"Not yet. It's what's keeping you stable."
If anyone else had said that, she'd have had a million questions, but Sephiroth had earned her trust, so she just grabbed the straps of her shirt and went to clip them back around her neck.
"Let me." His breath tickled her ear. The sensations so real she was astounded at his power. She looked down and savored the feel of his fingers brushing the hair off her nape, and clasping the straps.
The hands lingered, then a featherlight caress over the long healed burn scar on her upper back. Back and forth. Until he'd traced every inch. She knew he was punishing himself for something he couldn't control again. Well that needed to stop.
"I told you it wasn't that bad." Twelve minutes. She could make it twelve minutes.
A scoff behind her. "Caia. It is bad. Really bad. You don't see it properly."
"Or maybe you don't." She tossed her head so her hair would cover the scar again. "We're on borrowed time. Quit dwelling in the past and hold me."
The hands on her back reluctantly dropped and came around her waist instead, she tucked her wing and leaned back into the warmth of him. How was he so warm?
He nuzzled her hair and dropped his chin to her shoulder. She didn't want to look directly at him, afraid it would break the spell and he'd vanish, never to speak to her again.
Instead she watched her son and traced the arms around her waist, the hairs tickling her fingers, muscles flexing under her ministrations.
The details of the vision he was sending her were extraordinary. Of course, nothing about Sephiroth had ever been ordinary.
She felt his absence deeply, the quiet inside her head echoing horribly. He wasn't supposed to leave. They were going to raise Elio together, make armor together, breed chocobos together. Their lives intertwined in a way neither had chosen, but both had come to love.
She'd gained her son, to lose her love. The grief would crush her when she let it come. But not yet. Not now. Now she would savor the illusion of his arms around her, and count down the minutes until Elio was in hers again. Ten minutes.
"Have you come to say good-bye?" She whispered to distract herself from the timer's molasses crawl.
Lips on her shoulder. So quick, so light she might have imagined them. Except they were like fire on her chilled skin. "Maybe I came to say hello."
She smiled and laid her head against his shoulder. How she wished that were true. "It's too quiet in my head."
"I know exactly what you mean, wildcat. I've missed you."
She missed him, not ready to even think about the life ahead of her without him. So she stayed silent, stroking his arm. Reveling in the texture. Even in their dreams it had never been so realistic. He turned his hand so she could stroke his palm. His wrist, the pulse leaping against her fingertips.
His pulse.
She froze, her heart pounding. A pulse. Why did this illusion have a pulse?
"Caia—"
"Hush." She needed to think, to take stock of the room. She listened, with all her senses,
the way Sephiroth had taught her.
Elio's machine whirred and hummed in front of her. To her left, a heartbeat. Steady and calm. She smelled ginger and peach. Aeva. Behind her, movement on the chairs by the door, a shuffle of someone leaning against the wall, steady breathing. A ragged heartbeat. Her brother?
Three people in the room with her. And…a fourth. Holding her with a familiarity only one person had earned, the wing tucked between them a shocking intimacy. He spoke to her in Sephiroth's voice. His power licked across her skin. It tasted like him, yet not.
All of this culminated in her tired mind to form one frightening conclusion. This was not an illusion. The presence at her back was real.
Caia started to pull away, afraid the creature at her back wouldn't let her, but it dropped its arms. She turned to face him…it?... putting herself between it and her son. The gurney behind it didn't give them much distance, but then it surprised her by taking a few steps back, as if sensing her discomfort.
She chanced a glance around the room, keeping the creature in her sights. It wasn't hard, Cloud leaned against a wall by the door, his casual pose at odds with the tension in his shoulders. Tifa sat in a chair by him. A quick exit if shit hit the fan. Caia approved. She didn't want her niece or nephew dying before they'd had a chance to take their first breath.
Of course, knowing Tifa, she'd just be back seconds later with reinforcements.
Aeva stood off to Caia's side, a pleasant smile on her face.
"Hey, Caia. Welcome back. Things have been real interesting around here while you slept."
I'll say. "Cloud?" Caia said, putting her gaze firmly back on the creature wearing the face of the man she loved.
"He's really there. Don't worry. It hasn't been awkward at all."
The Sephiroth clone didn't say anything, just watched her with those otherworldly green eyes. In every way, his likeness was of the man with whom she'd shared the last year and a half of her life. A head taller than her, his body long and lean. High cheekbones and full lips she'd kissed in her dreams countless times. His silver hair was tied in a low pony and fell past his waist. He was wearing her black sweats and his old gray Shinra T-shirt, which was far sexier on his cool, white skin than it should have been.
Even as she was mentally locking away the image for later, she was aware of the danger she was in. They all were in. How could they be so foolish? How had Jenova recreated his body again? She was supposed to be dead!
She kept her face carefully blank, her muscles loose, so as not to project her next move. It wasn't hard. She'd been trained by a SOLDIER 1st Class after all…
Caia was taking her time inspecting him. Behind her Elio's timer changed to four minutes. He didn't want to distract from her moment with her son, but knew he couldn't rush this. So he drank her in, remembering the fierce young woman who'd ogled him in Nibelheim all those years ago.
Her body was sculpted and strong from years of chocobo handling and the rigorous training they underwent. Her hips were wide, her stomach soft from the precious life that had forever changed it, her golden and silver curls a wild riot around her head.
Her warm, tan skin was returning to its normal color, a flush beginning in her cheeks as she watched him. Her wing arched over her shoulder, jet black feathers with iridescent green catching the light at just the right angle. He couldn't wait to see it in the sun.
"Caia—" he began again, but before he'd completed the word a sword was at his throat, the movement so flawless he'd never seen it coming.
Cold steel kissed his neck, not a drop of blood spilt, but the tiniest movement would change that.
He was bursting with pride and knew it had spilled into his eyes. "Good girl," he told her, and meant it. She needed proof that it really was him, and not the Calamity, at the wheel. He could give her that. Even better, for the first time in his life, he was truly free. This body created by his summon. Jenova had no presence here.
"Caia, don't." Cloud began, then— "Actually. By all means. Save me the trouble. And good riddance."
"Shut up!" Caia hissed. He could hear her heart rate pick up. She was afraid. He didn't want her to be afraid. He sank to the floor, crossing his legs, a vulnerable position. Something Jenova would never do. Caia's eyes widened, but the blade stayed on his neck, still touching his skin, but not breaking it. She'd been an exemplary pupil.
"Who are you?" Caia asked him, steel in her voice. And if he hadn't already been in love with her, he would have fallen right then.
Caia was shocked when it slid to the ground taking the most vulnerable position in the room. Jenova would never—unless it knew she'd think it would never. She just couldn't be sure. And she couldn't think of it as him. Not if she wanted to survive this. Not if she had to strike it down. And she hated Jenova more than ever before. For showing her this. For stealing the intimacy of an embrace. For showing her a glimpse of what it could have been with him.
She was afraid. For herself. For Elio. She was angry at her brother for making such a stupid mistake. And she was angry at the creature at her feet. For the little smirk when her blade had touched his neck, pride in those eyes. So like him it made her ache.
"Who are you?" She repeated.
"It's me. Do you really think she could fool you?" It asked, the voice so like the one she'd heard in her head for months, but richer, deeper. And damn it all, sexier.
Caia adjusted her stance so she'd have more force behind her swing. He—it—watched her with emerald eyes, a ghost of a smile on his lips. He knew what she'd done. No. It. It knew what she'd done. Damn him.
"I know she can't." Caia said and it was the truth. What she had with Sephiroth was deeper than any relationship she'd ever had before. One she knew would never be repeated. It was him for her, or no one. Jenova wouldn't be able to fool her for long. If she wasn't stupidly clinging to a false hope it might actually be him, she'd kill and ask questions of the corpse. "So start talking."
"It really is him." Cloud said. "As much as I'd love for you to just end him."
"Really?" She snapped. "Because you knew the real Sephiroth so well as to tell the difference?"
That shut him up, his brow furrowing. Tifa stood, positioning herself offensively. "Aeva—" she began.
Yes, Aeva would know. Without taking her eyes off the creature, Caia said, "Aeva?"
Aeva walked around until she was in Caia's line of sight, but still a distance from her father's clone. "Honestly? I'm not sure. I didn't even think of it, I was so happy he was here. He didn't tell us how it happened." Her voice choked on the last word and Caia was impressed by her honesty. She was the only other person in this room who wanted Sephiroth to be alive as much as Caia did.
That settled it. This thing had to convince her, or it wouldn't leave this room. She arched an eyebrow at it. "Go ahead. We're waiting."
It smiled at her. The nerve. A perfect, sexy smile. Ass. "I could tell you a story."
Gut punch, the hours they'd spent in a cell getting to know each other in a tenuous truce coming back to her. "I thought I knew all your stories," she said around the lump in her throat.
"Not this one."
She nodded at him to continue and that was the moment Elio's timer chimed. The dilution process was finished.
No. How many months she'd waited, and she couldn't even turn to look at her baby. You never turn your back on a potential enemy. It was one of the first things Sephiroth had drilled into her.
Aeva moved back around to the tank. Correctly intuning Caia's longing she said, "The tank says 'Dilution Complete. Commence drain?' What would you like me to do?"
"The draining takes about eight minutes." Cloud said. He'd quietly unsheathed his weapon, but was standing back waiting for Caia's signal.
"Can you get him out, but keep him asleep?" Caia asked, trying to hide her longing.
He saw, though. He knew, the look he gave her said a million things in a language only she understood. I'm so sorry. It shouldn't have been like this. You should be the first one to touch your son.
That look was almost enough to convince her it was really him, and for a moment hope spiked. She stamped it down. She had to be sure.
"I can." Aeva said, oblivious to the silent exchange. "Starting now."
"Shall I tell you my story now?" He, no. No. It asked.
Not trusting her voice to stay steady, she nodded, and it began to talk. It told her a compelling story. How it felt to be ripped from her body, its experience in the Lifestream, meeting Aerith there, and the conversation they had. The spell instructions she'd given him—and how she'd sent him back.
Back to where he'd been before going into the Lifestream. Hero, and the body she'd created him.
His voice flowed over her, calm, controlled. Sensual. Everything he'd been in life. The cadence. The inflections. They were so like him. Deception had never been one of Jenova's strong suits, the need to brag overpowering. Could he really be telling the truth?
With a start, she realized she'd lowered the sword a fraction, she quickly moved it back to his neck. He'd paused, his eyes dancing in amusement. Jenova couldn't mimic that? Could she?
"Keep talking. I'm not convinced." She ordered in an attempt to regain control.
He complied. Telling her about waking up outside and the conversation with Vincent and how he'd saved her life.
At some point, Caia wasn't sure when the sword lowered and she stopped feeling afraid. Vaguely she realized she was crying.
Sephiroth stopped talking and smiled. "Hey, wildcat."
She sputtered, still shocked and numb. It really was him. Slowly she sheathed her weapon and watched Cloud do the same. Sephiroth got to his feet. She should go to him. Feel his arms around her. But she couldn't move. She just stood there crying. Stupid.
Thankfully, he came to her and cupped her face with both hands. They were warm and calloused and the sensation was so much more than in their dreams. She gasped and he stroked the tears from her face. First one side, then the other. She had to tilt her head to see him. He was really here.
"You know." He murmured. "We've never been properly introduced."
He startled her into a wet laugh. He was really here. "Oh? Is that right?"
A solemn nod. "Knowing each other's every private thought for more than a year doesn't count."
"If you say so."
"I do." And the teasing look in his eyes changed to something far more intimate. "I'm Sephiroth."
She knew her heart was in her eyes when she answered. "I'm Caia. It's so lovely to finally meet you."
He pulled her into a hug, his arms coming around her, and her wing, without hesitation. Telling her with his body that he accepted all of her.
"Oh. I can assure you. The pleasure is all mine."