.

Vincent tried to nap in Nero's room, but gave up after an hour or so, and turned the cot over to Shalua.

"I can't sleep," he told her, "and you look exhausted. Lie down. I'll wake you if Nero needs you."

"I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes," she said, curling up on the cot. Thirty seconds later, she was sound asleep. Vincent rescued her glasses, setting them on the exam table, and went to stand by Nero's pod.

Suspended in dark mako, Nero's lean, pale body seemed as insubstantial as a ghost, crowned by the floating cloud of his long black hair. A thin stream of bubbles rose continuously from the CPAP mask that covered the lower half of his face. Above it, his eyes were closed, but movement could be seen beneath the translucent lids as he dreamed.

Vincent laid a hand on the glass pod. Gods, please let him live. Please heal him…

His eyes burned, too dry for tears. He leaned his forehead against the glass. If only he could phase through it the way Ned did, so that his son, even in sleep, would know he was there; maybe it would help, to know he wasn't alone.

Behind him, a soft voice said, "Hi, Vincent. How is he?"

Vincent turned. "Hi, Shelke. He's...I guess 'stable' is the best word."

"Okay, that's good, right?" Shelke came to stand next to him, and he rested a hand on her shoulder.

"He'll get through it," Vincent said, with more confidence than he felt. It was easier to be positive for someone else's sake than his own.

"Yeah. He will." Shelke gave him the same sort of cautiously hopeful smile that he'd given her. "I see Shalua finally gave in." She nodded toward her sister, who hadn't moved since she'd lain down.

"Yeah, she needs the rest more than I do. She's been here pretty much twenty-four/seven for Nero."

"So have you."

"I know, but she's keeping him alive." Vincent glanced at the monitors, the CPAP machine, and all the tubes and wires that were helping Nero breathe and heal. Technology had advanced a great deal since his day, for which he was profoundly grateful. "Me, and Veld, and Max, we're just sort of the rearguard. Shalua's on the front lines."

"You should probably get some rest, too, Vincent."

"I can't right now. Maybe this evening. Max will be back later. She had a class she couldn't miss. And Veld-"

He stopped as Nero stirred, whimpering. Nero shook his head, sending streams of bubbles racing through the mako.

"Oh gods, is he okay?" Vincent looked at the monitors, but the digital screens with their numerical readouts were too alien for someone with no medical training to read. He turned back to the pod. "Nero?"

Nero's eyes fluttered as he sputtered and coughed. His hands rose, clawing at the CPAP mask. One of the monitors began to beep. Vincent didn't need to decipher the readouts to know what that meant.

"He's having trouble breathing- Shalua!"

"I'll wake her," Shelke said, but Shalua was already rising, reaching for the glasses Shelke had snagged off the table.

"I got it, Vincent." Shalua went straight for the CPAP machine, flipping switches. Nero tugged at the mask again. Shalua clicked another switch. Nero's chest rose as he drew in a deep breath, letting his hands fall.

"What's going on?" Vincent asked, looking back and forth between Shalua and Nero.

"He was off rhythm," said Shalua. "It's happened once or twice. It's okay now."

Vincent's heart, usually nearly still, kicked hard enough to hurt. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Nero's eyes, half-open, gleamed gold through the murky liquid. He stirred, moaned, began to cough. One hand rose toward his throat, blocked by the brace around his neck.

"He's in pain," said Vincent. "Isn't there anything we can give him?"

"We've tried everything," said Shalua. "Nothing works with his system, I'm sorry."

Nero blinked, lifting his head. His eyes cleared a little, his gaze steadying, though whether anything he saw made sense to him, it was impossible to tell.

"Is he awake?" said Shelke, coming closer to his pod.

"He's getting there," said Shalua, eyeing the monitors. "Let's give him a few minutes. He might just go right back to sleep."

Vincent approached the pod, putting a hand on the glass again. "Nero? Hi."

Nero just watched him, a slight frown crinkling his brows.

"Hey, kid," Vincent said softly. "D'you know who I am?"

A long moment stretched the silence. The confusion faded from Nero's eyes to be replaced by one of guarded reproach. As much as he could, he drifted back against the far wall of the tank. Yes. He knew who Vincent was. Nero watched the three of them, and slowly turned in his pod, gazing around the room. His eyes fell on the two empty pods nearby. Lifting one hand, he pointed.

"Oh gods." Vincent looked at Shelke, at Shalua. "What do I say? I have to tell him something."

"He has to know, Vincent," Shalua said, her voice gentle.

"But he's still so fragile. What if he can't take it?" The pain of renewed grief might hit him even harder than it had when they'd first found Weiss dying, Rosso already dead. And yet, he had to know the truth. Vincent backed away, unable to force the words out.

"He's stronger than you think, Vincent," Shelke reminded him. "Stronger than he thinks. He always has been. Do you want me to tell him?"

For a horrible moment, Vincent actually considered it. Let the words come from someone else, anyone else. I killed them - don't make me say it…

That was the coward's way out. He couldn't do that to Shelke. "No. No, it has to come from me."

He stepped closer to the pod. "They're...gone, Nero. I'm so sorry."

Vincent swore he could hear his son shatter; his materia heart collapsing into a thousand razor-sharp fragments. Nero went still, his eyes going blank with shock. His body sagged, head drooping as his arms slowly came up to clasp his shoulders. Hunching into himself as much as he was able, he turned away.

"Shalua?" said Vincent, his mouth so dry he could barely speak. "Is there anything we can do…?"

"I don't think so," she said, rubbing his back with one hand. "Give him time."

"There's no amount of time that can make up for what I did," Vincent said. Images of smoking rubble, of Weiss and Rosso's broken bodies lying at his feet, flashed through his mind. "It's my fault they died."

"I don't understand," said Shelke. "I thought Chaos…?"

"That was me."

Shelke stared at him. "What?"

"Chaos," said Vincent, tapping his chest over what was left of his heart. "He's...he was...his summon is what keeps me alive, more or less."

"I never realized that was you." Shelke sat down on the cot, her face pale. "Then Azul and Argento…are probably dead too."

"They are," said Vincent, tears sliding down his face. "Death and destruction just follow me wherever I go."

"Vincent, none of this is your fault," Shalua said. "He'll get-"

"Don't say he'll get over it! That's not how it works."

"I was going to say," said Shalua with deliberate patience, "that he'll get better. He will. Grief is always a rough road, but you're here to help him with that. All of us will help."

Vincent shook his head, watching as Nero floated, silent and somehow diminished. Stepping closer, Vincent put his hand on the glass once more.

"Nero," he said, voice thick and shaky, "I love you. Whatever you think of me, that will always be true. I wish things had gone differently." He swallowed, tried again. "You're so young. You'll make a new life here, a good life. Don't give up."

"Vincent, don't…" said Shelke, but he moved around her, heading for the door. The last thing Nero needed to see was his father, the bearer of bad news, the bringer of death. He couldn't get out of there fast enough.

ooo

Phone in hand, Shelke followed Vincent down the hall.

"Go away, Shelke."

"Nope. Gonna stay with you," she said, one eye on her phone as she sent a text to Veld.

Vincent stopped at a small alcove, floor-to-ceiling windows framing a cushioned bench and a plump upholstered chair. A crystal vase stood on a little table square in the center of the space.

"Leave me alone."

"Veld's on his way, I'm keeping you in one piece until he gets here."

"For gods' sake, Shelke, it's not like I can die!"

"I know. So don't try, okay? Nero needs you."

"No, he doesn't," Vincent snapped. "I'm the one who keeps hurting him! Every time I open my mouth, I hurt him!"

He snatched the vase from the table, sent it crashing into a corner. Shelke jumped backward, ducking the crystal shards that flew every which way.

"I can't do this." Vincent bent double, his hands gripping his head. "I can't...keep hurting him, I can't…"

"Vincent, you had to tell him," said Shelke. It wouldn't take away Nero's pain, or Vincent's, but it was truth. She opened her arms. "Hey. Vincent? Let me…?"

"No." Crouching, nearly on his knees, his voice was muffled by his hands. "Don't touch me."

He shuddered visibly, one long tremor, and let out a deep groan. "Shelke...get...back…"

She'd already begun to move, instinct warning her before his words did. He shook, his long, lean body blurring and changing, growing bulkier and larger - so much larger, his shirt and jeans split at the seams. He rose, both taller and wider, strips of torn fabric hanging off of his huge frame.

Large red eyes under heavy brows blinked, his pale, square face still wearing Vincent's tears.

"Oh, gods." Shelke stood her ground, wishing she'd worn her mag rods, but who brought weapons to a hospital?

"Little girl." The voice rolled like rocks down a mountainside. The giant looked her over - and bowed from the waist.

"Small one, I am Gigas."

"Um. Hi. I'm Shelke."

"I am most pleased to make your acquaintance." Gigas straightened, turning his head to survey the alcove, the hospital hall beyond it, and the scatter of broken glass. Muscles bunched in his arms as he lifted them, hands curling into fists. "Is there danger? Are you threatened?"

She shook her head. "No, Vincent's just upset. His son is hurt, and Vincent - I guess he couldn't deal with it anymore."

"Ah." He nodded. "Yes, Vincenz is most upset. We all have felt it, we three." He tapped his head with a large, blunt finger. "Myself, the Wolf, and the Masked One."

"Oh. Um, they aren't coming out - are they?" That was all they needed, a were-thing loping down the corridors, or Mask flinging knives and propositioning everyone. But Gigas shook his head.

"No, it is just myself. Vincenz is quite disturbed."

"You can say that again," Shelke muttered. Gigas blinked, but before he could speak, Veld appeared at the end of the corridor, hurrying toward them. Shelke waved at him.

"We're here," she called.

"The hell is going-oh." Veld came to a breathless stop, eyeing Gigas. "Okaaay. Well, this guy is alright, as long as he's not angry. Hello, Gigas."

"Sir Dragoon." Gigas bowed again.

"Give me a report, Shelke?"

"Nero woke," she said. "Right after that, he asked about his brother and sister."

"Ah," said Veld, evidently putting two and two together. "And Vincent blamed himself."

"Well, he told us about Chaos, so…"

"I see. Shelke, I'm sorry."

She nodded. "Thanks. I told him it wasn't his fault, but, well. You know how that goes."

Veld sighed. "Yeah, I do." Glancing at Gigas, he caught sight of the smashed vase. "Did Vincent or Gigas do that?"

"Vincent."

Veld rolled his eyes. "Make sure the hospital bills him for it, would you? I'm going to see Nero and talk to Shalua."

Do you mind keeping Gigas company for a while?"

"No, he seems cool." She smiled at Gigas, who responded with a sad smile of his own.

"I shall wait with Miss Shelke," he said.

"Great," said Veld. "You two hang out right here. I'll be back."

ooo

Veld walked into Nero's room expecting more drama, but it was quiet enough. Nero floated in his pod, staring at nothing, his eyes bleak and dark-rimmed. Shalua, fussing with the monitors, looked up as Veld came in.

"Veld, I'm glad you're here. Did you talk to Vincent and Shelke?"

"I did," he said. Technically, it was true, even if Vincent wasn't himself at the moment. "How's Nero?"

"Physically, he's improving." Shalua shoved a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "He asked about his siblings, and that...did not go as well."

"Shelke filled me in." Veld went to the pod, laying a hand on the glass. "Hi, Nero."

Nero's eyes shifted toward him, but didn't connect. He drifted, his mind evidently elsewhere.

"Shalua, is there anything I can do to help?" Veld asked.

"Not really, unless you can convince Vincent this isn't his fault."

Veld thought about that. "I'm not sure I should. I know it was Chaos more than Vincent, but he was there. He was involved. Pretending otherwise would be a cop-out."

"But I thought he wasn't in control?"

"I'm not sure how much control he had," Veld admitted. "Either way, it's better to own the truth. Nero won't appreciate lies and evasion."

"You're right." Shalua sighed, watching Nero. "He's holding his own right now. I'd like to keep him calm."

"Well, as to that - Shalua, one of Vincent's headmates came out."

Alarm crossed her face. "You left him out there with Shelke?"

"It's Gigas. He's big, but harmless as long as he doesn't need to fight. Shelke's not worried."

"Oh. Well. Sometimes I forget she's not nine anymore."

"Someday I'll tell you about the time Gigas and I got drunk together," said Veld. "If I can get him to come home, I'll try that again. It would knock Vince out for a while. In the meantime, do you think it would be all right for Gigas to visit Nero for a minute? It might be a good idea to have this guy on his side."

"For a minute or two only. He needs rest, Veld."

"Understood." He went to the door and gestured to Shelke and Gigas. "Come on in, you two."

Gigas bent his head to enter the room, and bowed to Shalua. "At your service, Madame Doctor." He glanced down at his torn clothing. "I apologize for my attire. The transformation can be rough."

Shalua blinked up at him. "Ah, that's okay, thanks."

Veld led Gigas over to the pod. "Gigas, this is Nero, Vincent's son."

Gigas approached the pod, his silent steps as quick and graceful as his host's.

"Ah, yes," he rumbled. "I would know him by his face, so much like Vincenz he is. Greetings, young Nero. I am Gigas."

Nero blinked blankly at the giant, saying nothing, but the spark of interest in his eyes seemed to encourage Gigas.

"My pleasure to meet you, Nero. I wish that it were under better circumstances. My deepest condolences to you on the loss you have suffered."

Whether Nero understood him or not, something in the giant's sorrowful tone seemed to get through. A tear slid down Nero's face, dissolving in the mako.

"I wish for you long life, health, and many friends," said Gigas. "You have great power within you. Embrace it. It will strengthen you."

Nero grimaced, clearly skeptical, and Gigas's sad smile came out. "Grief is not all, Nero. Let it come, but do not let it rule you."

He turned back to Shalua. "I shall not tire him. I must go."

"I wish you could stay longer," said Shelke, taking one of his huge hands in her small one. "It was really nice to meet you."

"I thank you, Miss Shelke, but I must let Vincenz return." Gigas put his other hand to his own heart. "There is pain here, both his and mine. We share much."

He stepped aside, toward the door, and stopped, shuddered, blurred, and shrank, leaving Vincent sitting on the floor, still shivering, his clothes half-shredded..

Shalua fetched a spare lab coat and passed it to him. He took it without looking up, draping it over his shoulders, and curled up where he sat.

"Well, you done hiding?" said Veld.

"Fuck off," Vincent muttered. "You're scaring Nero!"

"Valentine, don't take your drama out on me."

"Nero's not scared," said Shelke. "Maybe just a little confused. Did anyone think to tell him…?"

Veld bit back a groan. No, he hadn't thought to tell Nero who Gigas was.

"Nero," he said. "Gigas is one of your dad's headmates. He comes out when Vincent needs to hide."

Vincent shot him a dirty look. He rose, wobbling a bit, clasping the too-short lab coat at his throat. "Just...tell me Nero is alright for now."

"He is," said Shalua. "For now."

"Good." Vincent took a step, another, then sank back to the floor, his face an unflattering shade of green. He held out a hand. "Bucket?"

Shalua passed one to him. He hunched over it, retching, his shoulders shaking. When he lifted his head, Shelke handed him a paper cup of water.

"Thank you."

Nero watched all this with an expression of deep dismay, one hand on the glass wall of the pod, tears still running down his face. A sound escaped him, half question, half groan, and his arms crept upward, hands clutching at his shoulders.

Veld turned to him. "It's okay, Nero. Vincent's fine."

"Vincent is NOT fine." Vincent looked up, eyes burning red. "Vincent is pissed."

"Vincent-" Veld began, but Vincent cut him off.

"My son is grieving. I know what grief feels like. But this is ten times worse because I killed his family! And everyone just wants me to calm down and I can't calm down." He paused, taking a shaky breath. "I don't know what to do."

"Please don't be angry," said Shelke, kneeling down a little distance away. "We were just worried that you were gonna do something awful, something that would just make you hurt even more."

"Nothing can hurt more! If I lose my son, I won't want to live, Shelke." He leaned toward her, his tone rising. "If he dies, then I'm done with everything. I might as well go back to the coffin."

"And how would that make things better, spook?" Veld knelt next to him, putting an arm around him. Vincent tolerated it, barely.

Shalua had turned away, working at the machines that helped Nero breathe. Nero shivered violently, bubbles rising in clouds all about him. "This is not helping Nero, people!"

"You see?" said Vincent. "It's like I'm toxic." Pulling away from Veld, he went to the pod; wrapping his arms as far around it as he could, he leaned his forehead against the glass.

"Shalua," Veld whispered, "if you have any of those behemoth tranqs, you might want to get one ready, just in case…"

She nodded, going quickly to a cabinet and retrieving a vial and hypodermic with as little fuss as possible. She needn't have worried. Vincent never looked away from his son.

Nero shied back, and then his whole body began to shake.

"Okay, that's enough!" Shalua pushed Vincent aside, into Veld's arms. "Go home. Get some rest. Out!"

Something was wrong, but all Veld could do at the moment was get Vincent out of there. He gently urged him toward the door, keeping his back to Nero's pod. "Come on, Vince. Home."

He got him as far as the hall without resistance. "Can you wait out here for me? Just for a minute."

Vincent nodded. All the anger seemed to have gone out of him. Eyes down, he walked back to the visitors' alcove and sank onto the bench.

Veld looked back at Shalua. "How is he?"

"He's had a seizure," she said, finishing with tubing and needles as she spoke. "The medication should help, but he needs to rest. I don't want to see you or Vincent back here until at least tomorrow morning. Can you manage that?"

"Damn." Veld watched Nero, now drifting limply in the mako, eyes closed, breath coming shallow and slow. "Is he going to make it through the night?"

"He should. I'll run more tests tomorrow. What about Vincent? I know he's worried for Nero, but I've never seen him fall apart like this."

Veld said nothing for a few minutes, watching Nero as he floated in drug-induced sleep. Nero's fragile state was only one reason for Vincent's meltdown. There was another, and he debated with himself for a moment on whether to tell that part of Vincent's story to Shalua and Shelke.

It wasn't a long debate. He didn't trust many people, but Shelke and Shalua were definitely on that short list.

"Shelke, Shalua," Veld said, glancing at each of them, "I'm going to tell you something. Please don't let it leave this room."

"Of course," said Shalua, while Shelke nodded.

"It's possible," said Veld, "that Sephiroth was Vincent's too. Not certain, you understand, but from what Vince told me, there's a very good chance."

"I...had no idea," said Shalua. "That explains a lot."

"But...Vincent helped stop Sephiroth," said Shelke. "He helped...oh gods."

"Exactly," said Veld. "Vince believes he was. You have no idea how determined he is to not lose another son. He talks about it in sleep, has nightmares...He and Nero already have so much trouble communicating, and now this."

"I get it," said Shelke. "If I can help, you know I will."

"You've already been a big help. And you, Shalua."

"Doing my best," she said, blushing a little. The heightened color made the shadows under her eyes stand out more.

"Thank you," said Veld, giving her a quick embrace. "I'll take Vince home. Text me if anything happens; me, not Vincent, okay?"

"Will do. Now go, before he decides to jump out a window or something."

"Right. Sorry, Shalua. And Shelke, thanks for your help with Gigas."

"He was nice," she said. "Veld, I'll stay with Nero, if Shalua says it's all right."

"Thank you."

He left to find Vincent. Gods, it was going to be a long night.