A/N: You guys rock. Really. :) Thank you everyone for all the support this story is getting! And a great super big thank you to Koruyuha for being IM's 150th reviewer. Oh, and if you didn't get a review reply, I'm sorry. I'm sure we all know how screwy this site has been the past week or so. I remember I got alerts for a good chunk of chapter three's reviews all at once, like a day after those people reviewed. Weird. Anyway, enjoy chapter four! This one's one of my favorites.

B/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all the reviews! I've only been able to reply to a few of you because of my crazy schedule but rest assured that I appreciate them all! NOTICE: Some of you seem really upset that Cloud is being hated by the others. Please rest assured that things WILL get better. (please refer to the title...) and the hating WILL stop but you guys gotta be patient okay? THANKS!

Cloud was hard-pressed for sleep that night.

He lay curled-up in a ball with his new sheets over his head, trying to keep his breathing as quiet as he could. Every noise seemed amplified in this dark, freezing night; he scrunched himself into more of a ball and lifted a corner of the blanket, letting some fresh air into the now-damp enclosure he had created.

Even though he was absolutely exhausted, he could not sleep.

Maybe it was because he had never been good at falling asleep in places other than his bed, back at his Midgar apartment. Maybe it was because of the mattress—it was softer than his old, crappy, rock-hard one, and he hadn't gotten used to it yet.

Cloud knew the real reasons were the noises, and his own paranoid thoughts.

He tried—he really did try—to not think about it, but his mind paid far too much attention to the little things that kept happening. Sebastian had a loose thread, and every time he looked at the poor thing, it was longer, as if someone had pulled on it. He hugged the yellow bird to his chest.

The kitchen faucet kept leaking; he'd turn the water all the way off, and once satisfied that it was firmly shut off, he'd look away. When he eventually turned back to it, there would be a tiny stream of water, making a noise that echoed in the dead-silent house. That was probably the faulty plumbing, but it was still… weird.

His bedroom door needed a new lock too. He had tried to shut it, and after hearing a click, had changed into his pajamas. But just as he had been ready to crawl underneath the covers, he had shot a glance at the door.

Wide open.

Every time he closed it, it would pop back open. He had sworn under his breath, stubbornly pushing it back. Eventually he gave up, shooting it a dirty look and lying down.

After a few minutes of silence… the noises had started. Maybe they had been there all along, and his brain only really started picking them up when he had fully relaxed. Maybe the creaks, snaps and bangs had only started when he had tried to get some shut-eye.

There was one of those loud squeaks from beside the bed, the kind that were usually caused by an old floorboard being stepped on. Cloud squeezed his eyes shut and tensed, but there was no death blow, no axe that came out of nowhere and cut him in half. He didn't dare relax though; he rolled over, covered his ears with a pillow and prepared himself for a long night.

A few feet away, Sephiroth said to Zack, who was doing squats beside the bed, making the noises that made the blond whimper, "Zackary. Let us sleep." He nodded his head at Cloud. "He's the one who needs to be tired tomorrow, not us."

Zack smiled, doing a last squat and taking Sephiroth's hand, squeezing. Sephiroth gently tugged on lightly tanned fingers and led Zack to their 'bedroom,' now an elegant room on the opposite side of the mansion. Angeal and Genesis were sleepily relaxing, trying to amuse themselves while waiting for them to return. Genesis was snuggling Angeal from behind, trying to capture the older man's earlobe with his teeth, though his tiredness was mostly making his mouth bump against the back of the man's neck. Angeal wasn't complaining; he was smiling widely at the little butterfly kisses, and at Genesis's cute behavior. They looked up when Zack and Sephiroth entered, looking pleased to see them.

After stripping, Zack crawled over all of them and pressed up against Angeal, hearing Sephiroth get comfortable beside Genesis.

"…'Night," Zack murmured tiredly. "Tomorrow's gonna be fun."

"Indeed," Genesis sighed, reaching over and running his hands through the youngest's black spikes.

The mentally and physically exhausted men fell asleep quickly, for the most part. Angeal, however, resisted the urge to close his eyes and slumber, eyeing the others in the bed and thinking.

He didn't trust this 'Cloud.' If they all fell asleep, they could be easily be taken advantage of. Angeal pinched his thigh and gazed at the beautiful men beside him, letting out a deep sigh.

Cloud had a long night, haunted by phantom sounds and ghouls his mind had created. Plagued by memories of his past—which could very well repeat itself—Angeal had an even longer one.

When Cloud woke up in the morning, he lay in bed for a while, just staring at the ceiling. He was tired.

The room was pleasantly chilly, and he dozed under the blankets for a brief while before finally stretching and getting out of bed. He still had unpacking to do. He needed a shower, he needed to try to introduce himself to the townspeople (it was always a good idea to have a friendly neighbor nearby), he needed a job, and he needed to get something to eat!

Yesterday he had found granola bars in the first cabinet he had opened. He had grabbed two, and that had been his dinner.

Now his stomach was growling at him again. Cloud padded downstairs in his pajamas, yawning widely and rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

After a night of being cooped up in his bedroom, the mansion seemed even more fantastic than it had yesterday. Everything was so… expensive. Cloud happily looked around at everything as he made his way downstairs, managing to remember how to get himself to the kitchen. The still elegance of the house, which, to be perfectly honest, had frightened him a bit the previous night, looked inviting in the morning light. He peeked out a window; he got amazing sunrises.

When he peered into the fridge, he was prepared for the worst. Tseng had told him that everything was just as it was when Hojo bit the dust—and that included the food. There wasn't any rotting meat or fuzzy, half-alive bread; in fact, it was almost empty. There was a lone gallon of milk in the back, and a bowl of fruit on a shelf. Neither looked promising. Cloud decided that he'd go through it all later.

Cloud had no intention to eat food a dead man had touched. (Obviously, a dead man hadn't touched it, but a man who was now dead… yeah. Cloud didn't want any Hojo-germs on him.)

He systematically explored the kitchen cabinets, finding various things that made him smile, like an unopened pack of Oreos and cans of soda. The good stuff was almost hidden though—it was all behind nasty, old man junk. Instant mashed potatoes in some disgusting flavor. Cream of poo-poo soup. …Baby food.

Did Hojo not have teeth or something! How the hell did the man survive?

In one cabinet, he found nothing but protein shakes. One had powdered drink mix, like Kool-Aid. There was a plastic bag full of nothing but that button-candy, where you ended up eating just as much paper as actual candy.

What. The. Hell?

Cloud found a tiny unopened box of fruit loops and took it, along with a handful of Oreos. He sat at the tiny kitchen table, not daring to sit at that huge dining room table. Cloud eyed his food and sighed.

The breakfast of champions.

When he had finished his cereal, he became thirsty. He grabbed one of the cans of soda he had found earlier. He opened it and took a sip, trotting back to the table. He sat.

…Or, he meant to sit. His butt missed his chair by about two feet, and he crashed to the floor, spilling his drink all over himself.

Zack gave a mean snort at the mess of a human being on the ground. Sephiroth snickered softly, and he snagged one of Cloud's Oreos. Sephiroth had a sweet tooth like none other.

"That was for Angeal, kid," Zack said. When they had woken up this morning, Angeal had given them all a drunk smile before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went limp. They had panicked, afraid that Angeal was drugged or worse, but figured out that he was only asleep. He had stayed up all night watching over them, and even though that was an excruciatingly cute thing to do, it wasn't smart. Angeal was asleep at the moment, and he probably wouldn't wake up for another few hours.

Cloud made a sad noise and sat up. A quick search of the kitchen didn't reveal a mop, but he found a pack of sponges under the sink, and he used that. He took one and tossed the package onto the stove, getting down to business.

…Something was burning.

Covered in the sticky remains of his soda, Cloud sniffed the air, pausing in his cleaning of the floor. Yep… something was definitely burning.

"Fuck!" Cloud exclaimed, standing up in a panic. The source of the problem was found easily enough.

The front left burner of the stove was on. It was melting the plastic wrapping of the pack of sponges, sending an awful smell into the air (wasn't burning plastic poisonous? Cloud's mind thought). Cloud stared at it for a moment, then sprang into action.

After he had managed to scrape the toxic mess off with a spatula he found, Cloud gave a weary sigh and finished cleaning. And once done, he eyed himself, cursed his shitty luck and padded upstairs, ready to get a shower and clean himself up.

How did he miss the chair, honestly?

He didn't dwell on it for long. Cloud found he immensely liked the shower in his bedroom's bathroom. There was a cool sliding glass door that guarded his privacy—it was that weird, warped, patterned glass, so no one could see anything other than a slightly distorted blur if they looked inside. There were three showerheads that beat down on his sore muscles and damn, it felt good.

Cloud tried to ignore a little voice inside him that kept harping about the events in the kitchen. …Maybe it was just a bad stove. How else would it have turned on by itself?

He stopped rinsing the shampoo he had made the movers cart from Midgar to Nibelheim out of his spikes when the water seemed to… heat up. He frowned and grasped the knob, which had turned all the way to the left, twisting it back to the middle of the heat spectrum.

It turned easily, and satisfied, Cloud went back to his business. But quickly he realized that even though he had set the water to be a bit colder, the water was still heating up. He squinted his eyes so he wouldn't get soap in them and twisted the knob all the way to the right. It should have been freezing, but it was still getting hotter.

It was a good shower; the water heated up quickly. Cloud winced as it got uncomfortably hot, unsuccessfully trying to get it back to normal. As the water's temperature became scalding, Cloud realized he had lost this battle. Fucking faulty pipes. Scrabbling fingers tugged on the groove in the glass to slide open the door. That didn't work either.

Cloud slammed the heel of his hand into the knob, trying to turn the water off. It moved in, and the water should've turned off, but it was still coming down!

He hissed loudly as he realized he was trapped in this wet, burning hell. With three showerheads, there wasn't anywhere to hide. Panic flared up as Cloud kept trying the door, hunched over from the pain. That exposed his back more, and he whimpered loudly at his unbelievably bad luck.

When it started feeling like he was being jabbed with freaking exacto blades, he said fuck it to his pride and screamed, voice bouncing off the walls and hurting his ears. He was sure his skin was as red as a lobster—a few minutes more, and he wouldn't be surprised it if peeled itself off. It felt like he was being skinned with a hot knife.

Using strength he didn't know he had, the panicking blond drew a fist back and smashed it right into the shower door.

The glass shattered.

Cloud leapt out of the shower, trying to land somewhere where there wasn't too much broken glass. It proved to be a difficult task, and pain blossomed in his left foot. He paid it no mind, however, and hopped out of the ruined bathroom naked, on his good foot. Trembling and smarting and pretty sure he was burnt, Cloud dove onto his bed and sat, shivering and staring at the bathroom.

This house looked amazing, but it was dangerous. So many things had gone wrong already… did nothing work correctly here?

As his adrenaline wore off, the cuts in his foot and hand became apparent. He eyed the blood dripping onto the carpet and cupped his good hand under his bad one. He awkwardly tugged on a pair of boxers and slowly made his way into Hojo's room, trying to find a first-aid kit and trying hard not to cry. Surely the old man took care of himself?

"…That was interesting," Genesis remarked, watching Cloud hobble out of the room. He had been the one to hold the door shut, and only his good reflexes had saved him from getting hit by flying glass when Cloud had broken it. He decided to leave the water running and joined Sephiroth in the hallway.

Hojo hadn't had what he was looking for in his room, nor in his bathroom. Cloud took a slightly painful trip downstairs and finally found a first-aid kit in the parlor, though why it was there, he'd never know.

This room had the whole white thing going on, but also had a few creative touches of purple. He gingerly sat on the slightly-uncomfortable couch, careful to not let his hyper-sensitive back touch any of the fabric.

The first-aid kit was… weird. There was the typical set of band-aids, but there were things in bottles and packets that he couldn't even begin to pronounce. He nudged aside a pack of bandages and blinked.

There were two syringes lying in the bottom. One was full of a clear liquid, and the other's fluid was a fascinating, glowing green. He held the green one up to the light, admiring how pretty it looked.

Sephiroth led Genesis and Zack into the parlor, eyes sweeping the mansion for their current intruder. He found him, all right. He saw the green syringe in the blond's hand and whipped around, throwing his arms around the smaller men and hurling them back into the entrance hall, immediately getting them out of harm's way.

Cloud heard two loud bangs that scared him, and he put the syringes back into their container and hobbled out into the main room of the house, looking for whatever had made the noise.

Nothing.

"What the hell, Seph?" Zack grunted, flat on his back in the middle of the room. Genesis swore, forgetting to speak carefully so that Cloud's ears couldn't pick his words up. Luckily, the boy hadn't heard.

"He had Mako," Sephiroth gravely stated. The other two stared—this meant that, without a doubt, that blond was here to continue where Hojo left off. Wicked anger and hostility was in the men's eyes as they glared down the half-naked boy, who shrugged and limped back into the room.

Cloud sighed, found a pair of tweezers and began the painful process of getting rid of any glass that had gotten into his skin. His knuckles seemed to be fine, but he pulled a long shard of bloody glass out of his abused foot. Once satisfied (and in more than a little pain), he grabbed a bottle of disinfecting spray and took a deep breath.

Two quick sprits on his hand and foot, and Cloud waited for the burn. He shrieked at the top of his lungs when it felt like his foot was eating itself… but before long the pain was gone, and he bandaged the two body parts up.

If it got infected, he'd go to a doctor. But for now, he was content.

Cloud left the kit on the table, retrieved his cell phone from his bedroom and sat on a comfy armchair in the library, wanting to be somewhere calm for this next bit. He hesitated briefly, then called Tseng, with the number he had programmed into his phone the day after he met the man for the first time. It only rang once before a familiar voice said, "Hello?"

"Uh, Tseng? Hi—it's Cloud Strife."

"Tseng…" Genesis breathed slowly, fists clenching. "That traitor."

Tseng sounded interested when he answered, "Cloud. Hello. To what do I owe this honor?"

Cloud smiled shyly at the smooth voice. "Um… I called because, well…" he paused. He hadn't thought about it much, but he realized he'd sound like an absolute freak if he asked, 'hey, I'm scared—is this house haunted?'

He was silent, and an innocent voice asked, "Yes, Cloud?"

Frowning, Cloud said, "Umm… never mind."

Tseng seemed to have expected that answer and chuckled. "Don't tell me you're through with the mansion already," he said, amusement lacing his tone. "That would be a shame."

"Oh, no!" Cloud exclaimed. "That's not it. I just… uh…"

Tseng's voice turned stony as he said calmly, "Good. Because even if you wanted to leave, you couldn't."

Instant confusion. "Huh?"

"It was in the contract you signed," Tseng said, a fake smile in his voice, "which you failed to read over. At the moment, all bills and costs are being paid by me, as is Hojo's will. If you move to another location, then that burden is transferred to you. And we both know that you could not shoulder the cost."

Cloud blinked, then burst, "What!"

Thousands of miles away, the Wutaiain man relaxed in his chair, fingers tapping a slight beat on his thigh. He was slightly worried though—it had been sooner than he had expected that Cloud had called, obviously worried about "ghosts." He was sort of surprised the blond was still alive, really—those four in that mansion were vicious when they were threatened, as he knew all too well.

He knew Hojo had been fond of his young nephew, somewhere in his twisted heart. It was a shame the boy had to deal with all this while not having a clue, but it had to be so.

Better him than me, a hard voice inside him sneered.

Tseng was working fast, fingers giving an unnoticeable tremble every now and again. Hojo was dead—the explosion had rattled the whole house. There wasn't much time left before those four came after him; Tseng knew he had to get out of the house quickly, before the sedatives wore off and they came back to full awareness.

He swept through Hojo's desk, pulling out pens and paper and important-looking documents. He stashed it all in a briefcase he had left on a windowsill once upon a time and kicked the shit out of Hojo's computer before he left, not thinking he had enough time to wipe a hard drive. Damn.

The mansion seemed big and foreboding as he left, and he could honestly say he was quite glad to get out of there and never come back. He kept moving though Nibelheim—shitty, backwater, repulsive Nibelheim—and called one of his Turks, breath only slightly irregular as he ran. The townspeople were staring (of course they were—his suit was covered in Mako and Hojo's blood and some more of that madman's lab-fluids and Gaia knew what else) but he ignored them.

He had to do something to ensure that those four wouldn't come after him. They were, for the most part, bound to the house, but he didn't doubt that if they had to, they'd find a way to get to him. They needed something to attack at Nibelheim, so their attention would efficiently be drawn away from him.

When the helicopter came, Tseng climbed aboard, nodded at the incredulous look the Turk was giving him, sat in the backseat, and hurriedly shifted through all the papers he had collected. He did his best to wash off his hand and forged Hojo's will right there in the copter.

Cloud Strife. He was Hojo's nephew—lived all alone in Midgar, an orphan as of the age fifteen. He was young. A delivery boy. He wouldn't be missed. And really, he wasn't about to leave the mansion to Rufus, another distant nephew of Hojo's. Gaia knew his 'boss' had enough things in this world.

Tseng left the boy the mansion and gave himself the financial burden (being at Turk let you get away with quite a lot of things, legal or no. Not that anyone else was going to know about this, but if it came down to it, he'd get away with it). It was nothing to him, and this ensured that Strife would accept the deal and wouldn't be able to leave. Because really, a delivery boy paying for the cost of Nibelheim Manor? Laughable.

He enjoyed a week or so after returning from his years-long "kidnapping" by Hojo, deflected questions as to whether he had "seen" the other four men who were "kidnapped," (he had smirked to himself a little at that, and then felt like he was going to throw up) and carefully arranged everything for Strife's arrival, from a distance.

The day he knocked on Strife's door was the day he knew he was sacrificing another human being to the mercy of four bloodthirsty, invisible, tortured, super-enhanced men for his own safety. It didn't bother him; it wasn't like he hadn't done worse.

There was no way in hell he was going to set foot back in that mansion, ever. He'd probably be ripped apart on the spot. No, it was better that Cloud was there. He'd happily pay for Cloud's mortgage and his water and his heat as long as those four didn't come after him. (And he couldn't afford to forget about the mansion's original owner either, a worried voice inside him nagged.) A contact of his was in Nibelheim, so he'd know if the boy tried to sneak away. The Turks were always ready to do things for him—he supposed they thought that he had been at Hojo's mercy as well and thought he was some sort of hero for returning to Shin-Ra after everything. Fools. Still, it made things exceedingly easy for him.

He was pleased with the current arrangement.

"Indeed," Tseng said, smiling widely in his high-class apartment. The boy was a cute little thing—Tseng felt a shiver; no doubt Hojo would find a way to come back from the dead if he knew he was thinking about his beloved nephew that way. Even though he hadn't actually left Strife the Manor, Tseng knew Hojo would probably still get all protective and would decide to 'test' on him if he was still alive. His favorite niece's beautiful angel, he had heard Hojo mutter to himself a few years back, as the man had stared at a picture of a younger Cloud sandwiched between two smiling parents. Creepy, but some sort of affection was obviously in the old madman's heart for Cloud. But none of that mattered anymore—Hojo was dead, and Tseng was safe. For now.

Back in Nibelheim, Cloud spluttered angrily, eyes narrowed. Tseng was silent, radiating smugness through the tiny speaker. He hung up without saying goodbye and tossed his phone onto another armchair.

"Bastard…" he grunted.

He needed some fresh air.

Not caring that he was still only in boxers, Cloud left the house and decided to take a look at the grounds. He was beyond mad at Tseng (and at himself for not reading what he was signing), and he needed to do something to distract himself.

Everything was remarkably well-cared for. The grass was starting to get out of hand though; Cloud knew that now, he'd have to mow it. There had better be a ride mower, Cloud thought bitterly.

Flowers were abundant, and Cloud spent a few minutes examining the pretty colors. They reminded him of Aerith, and his spirits lifted a little at the thought of his friend. Eventually he moved on, eyeing the interesting mountain trees and the amazing view.

And there, like a gift from Gaia herself, was a pool. Cloud let out a happy whoop and limped as fast as he could to the pool's edge. It was nestled behind the mansion, surrounded by lush green grass. Cloud almost had a stroke.

The pool itself was big and sprawled out in some unidentifiable (but attractive) shape. There was a hot tub too; it was a bit higher than the pool, and there was a bubbly waterfall leading from it to the shallow end of the pool. The deep end had a diving board, and Cloud smiled widely at the sight.

He sat on the edge of the deep end and gazed down at the crystal-clear water, sticking his good foot into it.

The company's resident 'fish,' Genesis, beamed widely at Sephiroth and Zack, deposited his clothing on the ground and slid into the water slowly, careful not to make any ripples. Zack smiled as Genesis took a quiet breath and deftly swam towards the hurt, wounded boy like a shark.

Cloud hummed a little tune, swishing his foot around. Even though his life was pretty weird right now, and his new house was probably haunted, there was always a nice place like this where he could go, to get some peace. It was reassuring.

Something wrapped around Cloud's ankle suddenly and yanked, pulling him into the water.