Disclaimer: Kit Thespian does not own Final Fantasy VII or the characters therein. And she is not making money off of this. Sorry for the long wait.

Chapter Fifteen

Unbridled Anger

"What's a baby doing here?" Dr. Edward Rosem poked his head into the main laboratory on the 68th floor of Shinra Inc. He had heard crying and followed it from the physics lab. Dr. Hemin and Dr. Gast were standing nearby a table. Dr. Gast was holding the wailing baby, which was wrapped in a blue blanket. Without waiting for an answer (and completely missing the horrific scowl on Dr. Hemin's face), Rosem walked into the laboratory. He had always loved little kids. He went on, "He's a cute little fellow."

"Are you on the clock, Dr. Rosem?" Dr. Hemin spoke coldly.

As usual, Rosem completely missed the hint; whether or not he missed it on purpose is another matter. He said, "It's my coffee break." He waved at the baby, "Hey, little guy! Is he yours, Dr. Gast?"

"Er, no…" Dr. Gast replied, and then he cleared his throat.

"Whose is he? Hey…I know! He…"

"Rosem!" Gast interrupted, "This is Sephiroth; he is a ward of the state."

"…Oh." Rosem blinked, "What kind of a name is 'Sephiroth'?"

"If you don't mind, Dr. Rosem," Hemin hissed, "we need to be getting on with our business. I suggest you get on with yours."

However grudgingly, Rosem took the hint that time.

In the Shinra HQ lobby…

"Oh, no; not him…" Dr. Gast thought as he past by Vincent Valentine, who was standing near a snack machine. He hoped that Vincent would ignore him. He had just received a letter from the soldiers in the other continent saying that if anyone asked, he was to say that Lucrecia Hojo took her own life. He had sent a consoling letter to Hojo that morning. It was a cowardly way to do it, but Gast had no choice; he would not confront Hojo. But there would be no such luck with Vincent.

"Dr. Gast…" Vincent approached him, "I haven't heard anything from my brother or his wife. How's she doing? She should have had the baby by now."

"…She did have the baby. It's a boy, named Sephiroth," Gast was not sure if Lucrecia had actually killed herself or if she had suffered a violent death at the hands of Shinra soldiers, but he knew that he had a large hand in her fate. He hoped that the horror of what he had done would translate itself into horror at hearing about suicide, "She suffered severe post-partum depression."

Vincent blinked, "What do you mean 'suffered'?"

Gast and Dr. Hemin had talked about what to do with the two brothers, Hojo and Vincent. They had showed developing closeness during the stay at Nibelheim. The reason the President had them separated was that in viewing both of their track records, there would be little to stop them if they united, with Hojo being the brains and Vincent the brawn. If Hojo was to tell Vincent the truth of what happened, Vincent would no doubt side with him. Gast and Hemin had discussed the matter with the President. The President had coolly tapped cigar ash into an ashtray and replied that all they had to do was set the brothers at odds with each other and have one of them destroy the other. With any luck, they would both be destroyed. Gast knew that with the tension between Hojo and Vincent when they first met, it would only take the right bit of information to make a war between them. His conscience gnawed at him, knowing that he would be responsible for their destruction. But it was either them or him.

That was why Dr. Gast added a little side note in the consolation letter to Hojo, saying that Vincent had been acting strange, as if he were going to take little Sephiroth away from Shinra, because he was Lucrecia's child. And if Vincent took Sephiroth away, the authorities would try to retrieve him, and who knows what would happen to a tiny infant in crossfire, especially with Vincent's increasingly unstable manner? There was a chance that Hojo might not believe the contents of the letter concerning Vincent, since he was not exactly on trusting terms with Gast right now. But if Vincent went directly to Hojo in an irrational manner, perhaps Hojo would reconsider and retaliate.

This is why Dr. Gast said the following things to Vincent, knowing they would set him off, "Lucrecia has unfortunately taken her own life."

Vincent froze in disbelief. His Turk training had forced him to conceal tender emotions in public, but his eyes betrayed a few welling tears.

"She…She wouldn't!" he sputtered.

"I'm afraid she did, Vincent. I am sorry to tell you this; I know how much she meant to you. But what can one expect from such an unfortunate woman, suffering the depression combined with separation from her child?" The words were cruel; Gast had rehearsed it many times to make sure what he said made the right effect.

"Separation? Why?"

"Sephiroth is a ward of the state now; didn't you know that?"

Vincent didn't reply for shock. Gast continued, "He is here right now; Dr. Hojo remains in Nibelheim, working on the new serum."

"New…serum…?"

"The new serum that Sephiroth is to be injected with."

"But…I thought you already injected him with a serum, when he was still unborn."

"Yes, we did, but Hojo believes that it is insufficient and he is continuing researching on a new injection."

Vincent once again didn't answer, but Gast could tell that his silence now was provoked by anger. It was going exactly how Gast planned it.

"Excuse me, Dr. Gast," Vincent walked towards the elevator.

"No problem, Mr. Valentine."

Later, on the boat to the other continent…

Vincent's thoughts were a torrent as he stood on the deck, staring out at the sea. He had accumulated enough vacation time (yes, even Turks had vacations) to find an excuse to get away. He could barely believe what he had heard from Gast. But it had to be true. Gast was not the most scrupulous of people but he would not lie about that, would he? And Vincent could barely believe that Hojo would not only ignore Lucrecia's death, but invent a new serum to bastardize his own son with. Wasn't it enough that they had injected that alien poison into Lucrecia's pregnant womb? When would it end, their constant experimentation on the poor baby? Vincent had thought better of Hojo than this. He had even thought for a short amount of time that Hojo might come to deserve Lucrecia. But no, after this, Vincent was determined that Hojo would get what he deserved in some form or fashion. Vincent might be able to bring Hojo around to his senses, but not before Vincent gave him a beating or tongue-lashing or both. He would not kill him; he could not do such a thing to his own brother. But Hojo would definitely pay for his indifference and cruelty.

A week later, in Nibelheim…

Hojo sat in grave silence in a cushioned chair in the basement library of the Shinra Mansion, with a letter in one hand and a half-empty glass of brandy in the other. His glasses were misty from the hot tears that had poured down his face for the past ten minutes. But he was too drained to weep anymore. He felt like he wouldn't find the strength to do anything ever again. There was revolver lying on the desk across from him, beckoning Hojo to make an end of this and go to eternal peace. Hojo sneered; there would be no peace for the likes of him in eternity. He would go to Hell and rightly so. Still, at least he would not hurt anything anymore. It was his fault that Lucrecia was dead, and it was his fault that he and his son were property of Shinra. Everything was his fault. He took another painful sip of brandy, though it had done nothing to help so far. He wished for drunkenness, but he supposed that either the Jenova cells or his grief made his head stronger. Curse it all.

"Hojo?"

Hojo's brow furrowed when he heard a familiar voice calling his name. It sounded like Vincent.

"Hojo, I know you're down there!"

The letter crumpled in Hojo's angry hand. Was it not enough that Vincent was thinking about putting Sephiroth's life in danger by defying Shinra, according to the letter, but he also had to come and torment him? Did that Turk have no shame? Hojo wished everyone would leave him to grieve in peace. He slammed his glass on the table. He had underestimated his own strength; the glass shattered and gave him a pretty nasty cut on his left hand. He sucked breath through his teeth but clenched his fist and ignored the pain for the time being. He had a familial nuisance to deal with.

Get the gun.

Without considering what he had just thought, Hojo obeyed. "Yes, I'm down here," he growled as he approached the library's main area, "what do you want?"

Vincent stormed into the library. Hojo concealed the weapon in his lab coat. At the moment he had no intention of really shooting Vincent. He still had a small amount of rationality left; he decided he would give Vincent a chance to explain himself. Besides, Vincent was his brother; half-brother, yes, but still his brother.

"How could you do that to Lucrecia?" Vincent cried, "You took her child away from her and now she's dead! And you stay here and continue working as if nothing happened!"

The words hurt Hojo more than he thought they would. He gritted his teeth, but did not answer. Vincent took his silence as an opportunity to continue fussing.

"Do you think I'll stand idly by and let those scientists in Shinra treat my nephew like a lab rat?"

Hojo's eyes widened. It was true! He was planning to take Sephiroth away.

You can't let that happen. They'll kill Sephiroth trying to kill Vincent. You know it.

"And you're worse than they are! I ought to skin you alive!"

Kill him.

"What?"

Kill him now, before he ruins everything. Before he harms you. Before he harms Sephiroth. You have to do it; it's you or him. You or him. Kill him.

"I can't kill him! He's my brother!"

The buzzing noise, which had been absent for several months, began again in Hojo's brain, this time louder than before. He clutched his hair, not hearing Vincent's continuous ranting. He only heard the droning sound and the insistent voice.

Kill him! Kill him now!

"Why?"

He'll take Sephiroth! He'll hurt Sephiroth!

"No, I can reason with him!"

Look at him! Look at him screaming! Can you reason with such a man?

An image of a bloodied and bullet ridden infant boy flashed across Hojo's mind. He looked at Vincent and no longer saw a human being standing there. He saw a monster, with fangs and claws chomping and scrapping. Hojo's rage mounted and his hand drifted towards the concealed weapon in his lab coat. The image of Sephiroth's ravaged body once again floated in his mind, ravaged in the arms of Vincent. Vincent was the enemy, Hojo now realized. He didn't care about Hojo; he really didn't care about Sephiroth. All he really cared about was the disappointment of not getting Lucrecia underneath him when he wanted her. He was willing to risk Sephiroth's life for a chance to spite Hojo. That was what this was all about. Any fraternal pity towards Vincent fled from Hojo's mind as he decided that Vincent was no longer his half-brother, but a thorn in his side that needed to be plucked out. It was what the voice wanted. Something in him knew it would stop the noises if he did what it asked.

Kill him! For Sephiroth! For Sephiroth

Baring his teeth, he gripped the revolver's handle and pulled it out. There was a brief moment of terror in Vincent's face before the room was filled with the deafening sound of a bullet being fired. Only a moment later Vincent fell to the floor in a heap unconscious from the shock of the bullet wound to his chest. All was silent.

The revolver slipped from Hojo's hand and made a loud sound as it hit the floor. The voice's presence and the terrible buzzing left his mind and he finally realized his deed. His own flesh and blood had fallen by his hand.

"Vincent?" he weakly asked, "Vincent?"

There was no reply. A small stream of blood began to trickle along the crevice in the floor from underneath Vincent's chest. Hojo nearly tripped over himself when he rushed to Vincent's body. He turned him over.

"Vincent!"

There was a small flow of blood trickling from the corner of Vincent's mouth. Hojo put his fingers to Vincent's neck. His pulse was feeble, but still there. Hojo grabbed Vincent's shoulders and pulled him up. There was a lab bed in the basement. He had to get him on the bed. Hojo's adrenaline rush enabled him to find the strength to lift Vincent up onto the bed. The bullet wound wasn't bleeding profusely but it was ebbing out at a steady pace. Hojo put a hand to the injury to try to stanch the bleeding. It then he realized that his hand was no longer throbbing in pain. He looked at his left hand. There was no cut. Still pressing his right hand against Vincent's chest, he stared at his hand. It was completely healed. Some of his own blood stuck to the palm of his hand, but there was no gash.

"How could it be…?" Then he had a blessed revelation, "The Jenova cells. In my blood samples they regenerate very quickly; no doubt they'll heal any wound." He said out loud, "Hang in there, Vincent."

He found a clean syringe, sterilized his arm, and plunged the needle in without giving it much thought. If he thought about it, he might hesitate and hesitation was not acceptable. He watched without flinching as the large syringe slowly filled with the thick red liquid. He knew that he and Vincent had the same rare blood type, B-Negative. If the cells in his bloodstream worked the same in Vincent, the bullet wound would closely quickly and push the bullet out. He marched over to Vincent's bedside, found a suitable artery in his arm, and injected the blood into Vincent.

After every drop was squeezed out, Hojo placed the syringe on a nearby table and waited. All he could do now was wait and watch the wound. The wound had the same temperament as a boiling pot of water; it took longer if one was watching. But Hojo patiently waited. It had to work; it had to. He probably only waited a span of a full minute, though it seemed longer. He heard a strange, squelching sound as the wound began to close. He was struck dumb by the sight of the bullet emerging slowly from the hole in Vincent's chest. When it was all the way out, Hojo took hold of it and threw it away. The wound closed completely.

"Vincent?" He should be all right now. "Vincent?" Hojo spoke again, "Are you all right?"

Vincent lay motionless for a few moments more. Hojo prayed that he had not been too late to save him. But Vincent stirred, moaning a little. Hojo sighed with relief; Vincent was coming around. But no sooner had Vincent stirred that he uttered a louder moan. Hojo furrowed his brow; that didn't sound like a moan at all, but almost like an animal-like growl. It was deep in Vincent's throat and rumbling. His body twisted a little, as if an outside force were turning him about. Hojo put his hand on Vincent's forehead, thinking that perhaps his brother had gotten a little fever and was only suffering from that.

There was a glass of water on the tray on the desk in the back part of the library, right beside the brandy. If he could get some fluids into Vincent's system, he might feel better. And perhaps the image of Hojo nursing him back to health might make him a little more kindly disposed towards him. Hojo turned his back to Vincent for a moment to fetch the water. Things would be better between him and Vincent from now on. It had taken a moment of foolishness to make Hojo realize how much Vincent should mean to him. They were really all had they both had left. Understandably, Vincent would be a little sore about Hojo shooting him. But Hojo would try to make him understand about the voices. Maybe Vincent would have pity on him.

But no sooner had Hojo filled a clean glass with water did he hear Vincent's growling grow louder, more disturbing. He turned around, holding the glass of water. He asked, "Vincent?"

Vincent had roused from his prostrate form and stood up. He stretched his arms upward, as if in great pain. He opened his mouth and let out a deafening howl that caused the glass of water to fall from Hojo's weakened grip. Still screeching like a banshee, Vincent glared at Hojo. His eyes were no longer dark brown; they were now blood-red and glowing like embers. His teeth were becoming sharper. The hair on his skin started to rapidly grow.

He shrieked; his voice was abnormally guttural, "What did you do to me?"

Hojo's reply was scarcely audible, "I…I don't know."

Vincent charged at Hojo, his speed unnatural for a human being, "What did you do?"

Hojo barely dodged Vincent when the latter lunged at him like a pouncing tiger. He hurtled into a chair, breaking the chair and giving Hojo a good, clean gash on the shoulder. Vincent crashed into the back bookcase, sending books falling to the floor. Hojo scrambled to his feet and dashed down the walkway towards the exit. On the table near the door there was a key; Hojo knew that it was the key to the crypt in the corridor. The door to that room locked and unlocked from both sides of the door. He hastily grabbed the key and ran out of the door. He could hear Vincent (or whatever he had become) regaining his footing and charging after him like a beast of prey. Hojo was certain that if Vincent caught him he would destroy him within moments.

He reached the door to the crypt and closed it but not before he caught sight of what was pursuing him. Nothing about it resembled his half brother. It was enormous, with purple fur and leathery wings like a bat's. It had six inch fangs dripping with saliva. Hojo did not hesitate a moment before putting the key to the closed door and locking it. The only light he had in the room leaked in from underneath the door. He did not know what good locking the door would do against this massive creature. If it really wanted to, it could rip the door to shreds. It pounded violently against the door. The door was a lot thicker than Hojo thought, but perhaps because the beast was berserk it was not attacking the door properly. He could hear its gigantic claws scratching away at the wood and scrapping the metal bindings. Hojo stepped back, nearly tripping over himself. He waited; waited for the beast to break through the door.

But only moments after the creature began to pound against the door, the sounds waned as if the hulk were tiring. Hojo did not move or speak, even when the noise came down to a complete silence. He waited for several minutes, not bothering to wipe the thick beads of sweat from his brow. He spoke softly, "Vincent?"

There was no answer. Hojo knew he could not stay in this room forever, especially without a light. He crept to the door and listened. He could barely hear Vincent breathing. But it was no longer an animalistic pant. It was a human being gasping for air to sooth a heavily beating heart. Hojo put the key to the door and unlocked it. He opened the door barely a crack and peeked out to find Vincent on the floor. His clothes were completely torn off save for a few rags around his wrists and ankles. He now looked as if he were sleeping. Hojo opened the door all the way.

"Vincent, what happened?"

Vincent did not respond; he was now unconscious. Hojo put a hand underneath Vincent's head to cushion it from the dirt floor. Hojo now realized what he had done to his own brother. In trying to help him, he created for Vincent a fate worse than death. Shinra had wanted a human weapon of warfare through experimenting with Jenova cells. Now they had one, but not in Sephiroth. Hojo shook his head at the thought; he could not let the President know what had happened to Vincent. If anyone asked, Vincent died in a fight with Hojo. Even if Hojo had to go to jail for killing Vincent, at least Vincent would be safe from that barbarian's schemes. The President would no doubt attempt to harness Vincent's abilities to pull out annoying thorns in his side. And what if the public got hold of the knowledge; Vincent would be treated no better than any beast.

But what to do with Vincent? Suppose the next time he woke up the result was the same, and he murdered someone? Hojo could not kill him, and yet he could not let him roam free as well. Hojo then remembered the new piece of equipment that Gast had shown him only a little while before; the "coffin" that would keep its inhabitant in suspended animation for as long as needed. It had been intended for Sephiroth, but it would be several years before they would even think of putting Sephiroth into it. No one would be the wiser if Vincent occupied it for the time being.

Hojo shook his head and tears rolled down his face. All he could do for his brother now was put him in a state where he would not hurt anyone, including himself. He went to the coffin in the crypt and removed the lid. He then scooped an arm underneath Vincent's legs and another underneath his back. He sobbed as he lifted his brother off of the ground, "I'm sorry, Vincent; I'm so sorry…But you'll be all right. No one will touch you here. No one will try to use you here. You won't know anything. You'll be better off than I am…" He gently lowered Vincent into the soft cushioned lining of the coffin. After considering his brother's resting face one last time in the dim light from the corridor, Hojo took hold of the lid and placed it on the coffin, sealing it.

Hojo's feet felt like lead as he slowly exited the crypt, shutting the door behind him and locking it. He had nothing now, nothing. His wife was dead, his son was no longer his own, and his brother would be forever fastened in a sleeping state. Hojo had never felt more miserable than he did now, and it was his own fault. He sardonically chuckled as he looked at the gash in his shoulder healing rapidly. With the rate of healing the Jenova cells gave him, he couldn't even kill himself! He couldn't find Lucrecia's release and join her.

When he went back into the library he found that all of the brandy and water had been knocked over and spilled in the chaos. He couldn't even drown his sorrows for the time being; that had been the last snifter of brandy. He wondered if a tranquilizer would do him any good. While he searched for one, he tried to take everything in around him in an effort to push thoughts of his life out of his mind until he could get the soothing drug in him. Anything to forget…Anything to forget…

Lucrecia…Sephiroth…Vincent…

Anything to forget the faces of those responsible for this besides himself; the narrowed eyes of Dr. Hemin, the mustached smirk of Dr. Gast, the morbidly obese jowls of President Shinra, and the alien face of the creature named Jenova.

But he could not forgive, and so he could never forget. He never would.