Tobi: Hello again everyone! I'd like to say a big fat THANK YOU to everybody who read, reviewed, fav'd or alerted. It means a lot. And I was totally blown away by how many reviews, favs and alerts this fic got... really, thank you! Special thanks go to SarissaDiablo for being the first reviewer, and PlayInTheWaves for being the fiftieth. If I for some reason didn't reply to your review, feel free to yell at me. I try to reply to everything, always. Here's a note from my wonderful beta:

CM: Hi all, this is Yumi (aka: CloudedMirror89). Wow so many reviews! Thank you all SO much! We really appreciate it. This story took a lot of work from both Tobi and me. We are really enjoying writing this fic and I hope that you all will like it too! Now go read. Shoo!

Again, thanks, everybody. Enjoy!

The mansion was… shockingly spacious. It was even bigger on the inside than it looked like it would be when viewed from the outside.

The front door opened right into a huge room. It wasn't like the outside of the house at all—instead of white, the house was filled with royal, deep colors. It made Cloud blink for a moment; it didn't seem like the kind of thing that would have fitted Hojo at all. The floor was a ridiculously shiny white marble, which was pretty normal, he supposed, but the ceiling way above his head seemed to be a dark, dark purple. It was… weird. There were two large staircases that faced each other in the middle of the room; they curved upwards and led to the second floor. There was a railing up there so you wouldn't fall.

There was a glittering chandelier directly above his head, and Cloud stared up at it, smiling. The carpet on the steps and the drapes on the two huge windows on the same wall as the door were a rich, deep red. Closer inspection revealed a neat, thin gold trim on the stairs' carpet.

The whole house screamed elegance (and maybe a bit of boldness), things that Cloud knew he had no business with. He had half a mind to turn and leave, but he remembered Tseng's words about how he was the only one Hojo trusted to leave the fantastic mansion and its grounds to out of their whole giant (and quite well-known) family. He'd stay.

Thankfully, there wasn't some cliché twenty foot tall evil painting of Hojo on one of the walls. Cloud let his eyes drink in the view, curiously noting the various other rooms and hallways that led off the main one.

It seemed to be in pretty good shape. Tseng had told him Hojo had died about a week and a half ago. It didn't really have that uninhabited feel to it yet, which was good, but Cloud couldn't help but feel like he'd run into Hojo at any minute.

Well, let's check it out! a giddy, excited voice cried in his head.

Cloud grinned and took off to the right, a bit of an extra hop in his step. He entered a lounge, furnished with a plush couch, an armchair by a big window, and a fireplace. Just like in the first room, everything was lavish. Although red was the dominant color in the room, there was some blue furniture. The room's fancy but interesting appearance made Cloud think of, well, not an old person. It seemed fitting for a bachelor to live here, not Hojo (perhaps this house belonged to someone else before Hojo, he mused). but now, it was just him. It looked cozy enough, but nothing looked like it had ever been used. It was kind of unnerving.

There was also a huge wardrobe-looking thing; when he opened it, he coughed. There was a ridiculously large television in there, but there must have been an inch of dust on it. Again, not used. Weird.

Suddenly, Cloud experienced that odd shivery sensation again. His adrenaline from the excitement of first coming inside had worn off, and he suddenly became aware of how… quiet it was.

He turned and observed. His eyes lingered on a spot in the corner for some reason, and he shivered again.

That feeling of being watched was back.

Thoroughly creeped out, Cloud left that room and went in search of a kitchen. He kept glancing over his shoulder involuntarily, and he tried to tell himself to calm down, but it didn't work.

Ever since he was little, Cloud had been afraid of ghosts. He knew it was illogical, and he knew he was alone in the house… but it was still a bit scary, all the same.

Chill, Strife, he grunted to himself.

His mother would have fainted, had she seen the kitchen. It was enough to make a professional chef cry. While white (what a surprise—something normal!), the countertops were a dark red marble. Cloud wondered who had decorated the mansion for not the first time. A tiny table and some of the cabinets were glass. There was a vase filled with yellow flowers on the table, but the flowers were wilted and shriveled. It—predictably—looked rarely used and mostly for show.

He only spared the dining room a quick look. The long, long, long table and the large amount of chairs made his head hurt. Well, he mused, if he ever threw a party, he'd have a place to sit them all.

Cloud let out a happy noise when he discovered—glory of glories—a home theater. He had only read about things like that. (In Midgar, there was only apartments; there wasn't room for these big, sprawling houses. Everyone was crammed together, and Cloud was starting to think he liked it out in the mountainous countryside better.)

There were about twenty plush-looking armchairs facing a huge-ass screen, and speakers cleverly nestled up on the walls for surround-sound. Cloud almost shit his pants.

The remote had a coating of dust on it, though. Tseng had told him that Hojo had had a butler. No one knew what had happened to him, but judging by those dead flowers in the kitchen and the dust everywhere, he was no longer in the mansion. Hopefully.

Cloud gulped; that was a creepy thought.

After spending a good amount of time downstairs and not even finishing his tour, he trotted upstairs. His main goal was to find his bedroom and a bathroom—he had to pee, badly.

The whole damn house was like a pretty, extravagant maze. Rooms all over the place, doors that led to just about everywhere… it was a nightmare.

When Cloud finally located and entered the master bedroom, he immediately made a face.

It hadn't been downstairs, so here it was—right over the bed was a portrait of Hojo.

The old man's greasy hair was pulled back into his usual ponytail. His eyes glinted with that weird, superior look he remembered seeing at the family reunions.

All his stuff was already sitting on the bed, courtesy of the movers. Cloud frowned.

Sleeping in the same bed as that creep? Using the toilet where Hojo had… done his business?

No, thank you!

Cloud threw a duffel bag over his shoulder, hefted his suitcase and grabbed his pillow, leaving in search of another bedroom. Hojo's room had been awesome-looking, but even that flashy, white silk and pretty display of wealth (the room looked out-of-place in the weirdness of the rest of the mansion) wasn't worth being reminded of that creep.

After poking his head into two empty rooms, a parlor and a nursery, of all things, Cloud found a good bedroom.

There wasn't a gross painting anywhere. The bed was at least twice the size of the one he had back at his apartment. He had gotten rid of that one.

There was a handsome wooden dresser with a big mirror above it, and a nightstand beside the bed. The best thing was that the sheets were blue—his favorite color. There was a gold pattern on the sheets, as well as golden drapes over the headboard, and Cloud found that he rather liked the combination. There were a few standing lamps in the corners, and a gold table, desk and chair—how cool!

Cloud couldn't have said no if he tried.

He plopped everything on the mattress and carefully removed a stuffed chocobo from the depths of the backpack he had brought on Fenrir, not trusting the movers with it.

Gently placing Sebastian on a pillow, Cloud finished 'unpacking' for the moment and darted to the adjacent bathroom to take a leak. He still felt a bit wary, but felt better when he shut the door behind him.

The bathroom was pretty damn amazing. The tub was a huge square monstrosity in the center. It had an old-ish feel to it—the whole house did, actually—but looked nice enough. There was a shower too, and a sink that he almost missed, because it had the whole wooden-cabinet thing going on underneath it.

After he had finished and washed his hands, using an almost-full container of soap that was sitting beside the faucet, he lay on his new bed, too exhausted to do much of anything. Happiness radiated off the blond in waves.

As bad as it sounded, Hojo dying had probably been one of the best things to ever happen to him.

As the doorknob turned, the four men standing in the entrance hall tensed. This was it—the one who was supposed to continue where Hojo had left off was here. In a few moments, they'd be face-to-face with their new torturer.

Sephiroth was terrified.

His fear wasn't so much for himself. Although there was some kind of ingrained… reluctance to go anywhere near a needle or anything related to it in him, he was more concerned for Genesis, Angeal and Zack.

Hadn't they all suffered enough? Why did there have to be more, just when they thought they were in the clear? Sephiroth knew that his lovers were strong—in more ways than one—but even so, he was afraid for them.

Fear made Sephiroth livid.

…How dare anyone try to put them through this again! Even though he had been told ever since birth that he deserved all the tests, experimentation and prodding, he knew with every fiber of his being that the other men stuck here with him did not.

Sephiroth had been a military General, once. He had killed before, plenty of times. Before this new one got a chance to mess with them—make them weak, hurt them—he was going to kill them. There had always been something with Hojo; he, to this day, never knew why he had never killed the madman, his father. The ideal moment to do so had presented itself often enough.

Before whatever spell he had fallen under before was able to take root with this newcomer, he'd take Masamune and slide it cleanly in the juncture where neck met shoulder, o-or maybe he'd stab them over and over again, though not in a place where it would kill them right away. He'd make them feel the pain the ones most precious to him had suffered through. He couldn't stand idly by when—

Angeal placed a hand on the panicking General's arm. The silver-haired man was subtle, he'd give him that, but they could tell that he was upset. Sephiroth let out a slow breath and eyed the door that was slowly swinging open.

He would be damned if he let anything else happen to Sephiroth—to any of them. No fucking scientists would disrupt the brief happiness and freedom they'd experienced for a short week and a few days.

They had agreed to wait before committing actual murder. Despite whatever Hojo had told them, they weren't monsters.

But as a wild-haired blond trotted into their mansion, all four were just about to do it anyway. This man was in their territory; it was a violation of the worst kind.

The ex-SOLDIERs tensed and observed him, eyes drinking in all the details.

He was… deceptively innocent-looking. He had big blue eyes, and a boyish, rounded face…

No one allowed themselves to be fooled. Although this rule hadn't exactly applied to Hojo, you never could quite trust the ones that looked the least likely to do something evil.

The boy looked around with wide eyes, and all four glanced at each other, the silent assessment's results shared between them without words.

The blond began moving through the house, and they followed.

"…So this is him," Zack said tersely, watching him as he nosily poked his head into every room of the house, touching things that did not belong to him. Zack was careful to speak at a level that was too low for people with normal, unenhanced hearing to pick up.

"He seems a little… weak, wouldn't you say?" Genesis's canine teeth seemed sharper than usual as he grinned. "Doesn't look like he'd put up much of a fight."

"Do not underestimate him," Sephiroth said softly. "We do not know what he is capable of."

"So we're going to sit still and wait to see what he can do?" Genesis, spat, tense and at the end of his patience. He almost had forgotten to speak at the special volume. He didn't mean to snap at his lovers, but his temper had always been a formidable thing.

"Genesis," Angeal said firmly, eyeing the redhead as they trailed the relative of Hojo's into the home theater, "Relax. We will get our time to be rid of this boy." He sighed, and his eyebrows drew together as he glared at the boy's back.

"We have to hold on to our honor—remember that. If there is a way to resolve this situation honorably, then we must find it."

"Honor?" Zack laughed shortly in disbelief. "Angeal—"

"If he touches any of you, I'll kill him myself," the oldest man said stonily, making Zack fall silent. He smiled at them reassuringly. "But, if possible, I'd like that to be our last option."

He looked right at Sephiroth as he said, "We aren't monsters."

Sephiroth gave a thin-lipped shadow of a smile and involuntarily twitched, reaching for Masamune's handle when the boy gave a sudden movement.

That rotten fucker Tseng had locked their swords away in the laboratory in the basement somewhere a long time ago; he had no idea where it might have been. It was a depressing thought.

The grim game of follow-the-leader eventually led them upstairs.

When the boy entered Hojo's old bedroom, the four older men held their breath. Would there be some giant change in the blond when he saw the dead scientist's face? They weren't quite sure what would happen, but they were sure that it wouldn't be good.

Instead, he just made a face and moved his belongings to a guest bedroom. It was a shame, because he chose to spread his stuff on the bed where they most often fucked, whenever Hojo hadn't been around.

"…What?" Genesis muttered out loud when a ratty yellow thing was placed on one of the pillows. The blond entered the bathroom, and the ex-First turned to look at his lovers, his eyebrows raised. Genesis grit his teeth, and Sephiroth gave it a long look, frowning deeply.

"Maybe he's more cracked than he looks… what kind of grown man has a stuffed chicken?"

"…That's a chocobo," Sephiroth corrected Zackary, crossing his arms. The General had always been fond of the birds.

Zack gave him an annoyed look. "Yeah—whatever. Same thing."

There was silence for a moment, where every man thought hard. Genesis spoke first, his whole frame tense.

He said carefully, speaking to all of them, "I can take care of this. Give me some time, and he'll be gone, for good."

Angeal frowned at the man's headstrong, typically stubborn behavior. "We're all going to work together, Genesis."

"Don't do everything yourself, Gen," Zack encouraged, draping himself over the redhead.

Genesis didn't look like he was going to listen. To this day, he believed it was his fault they were in this mess, and his hatred for Hojo had been deep and unending. He was extremely protective of them, and that had been the cause of extra 'punishment' from Hojo more than once during his time.

The blond returned then, smelling faintly of soap. As he lay down and slightly curled up, the other men in the room watched him with wary and slightly hostile expressions.

He looked right at Sephiroth for a moment, and the ex-SOLDIERs froze. Hojo always had an uncanny ability to tell where they were; perhaps this blond could tell, too?

But blue eyes slid off him, and yellow lashes lowered. Angeal eyed the resting boy for a moment and turned, gesturing for the others to follow.

Downstairs, they sat on two couches that faced each other, each a vision of grim determination.

"…So what are we going to do?" Angeal asked, looking intrigued by all they could do.

Sephiroth, ever the strategist and military specialist, brushed his bangs out of his face. He glanced up at the ceiling briefly and focused hard on each of his lover's faces, beginning to think up a plan much like he had when he had still been General.

It was his specialty, after all.