"Call the cops," Cloud muttered to Tifa, leaving her with his cell and shoving the door to the side. He took one frantic look around the apartment to see the place as he left it. The furniture was in place, the lights still on, the television uncracked. A brief moment of relief edged its way into Cloud's chest, until he saw the smears of blood on the floor leading to Zexion's room.

"Zexion!" he thundered down the hall and grasped the knob only to find it locked. Panicked, he slammed on the wood, crying his nephew's name, threatening Xaldin. Voices reached his ears; he pressed his ear against the door.

"If only Mommy were here now," he could faintly hear a burly voice, intoxicated, sneering "She would've saved you for sure. Oh wait, that's right, she wouldn't give a rat's ass if you lived or died… Maybe she'd even want you to join her in the fiery depths of Hell."

"S-Stop…" Zexion sounded like he'd been crying, "Please."

"Has she been kind to you, coming back to taunt you into the grave?"

The boy cried out, "Please!"

"These marks on your wrists say yes, she has. Serves you right, you fucking little whelp. What kind of son abandons their mother in their greatest time of need? You left her there to die."

"No! Please, no! NO!"

A gunshot went off.

Cloud yelled, "ZEXION!" and rammed his entire body against the door. It didn't give way, even on his third try. Behind him. he heard Tifa running. She called, "get out of the way!" and jump-kicked the door. It snapped off its hinges, taking bits of wood with it, and flew into the darkness of Zexion's bedroom. She landed on the door, which landed on the bed. Grunting, she brushed off her hands and looked around. Cloud had rushed in after her. He froze at the scene in front of him.

Blood was sprayed against the wall, staining the paint maroon. Xaldin's black dreads now looked even darker, his jeans splotched with scarlet. His chest, bare, had a gaping hole near the abdomen. The bullet had gone clean through and was on the floor behind him. Xaldin didn't twitch, much less look up at Cloud with his glazed eyes, as he tipped over with a sickening thud. Standing over him was Zexion, face tearstained. The fabric of his shirt was soaked through with blood on the side, dribbling down his leg. In his hands was a silver double-barreled pistol. His hands shook enough to force the gun onto the ground.

FLASH.

...The teddy bear he'd been holding was now at his feet…

Mommy…

Zexion fell to the floor, unconscious. Cloud held him in his arms. By his side, Tifa was searching Xaldin's corpse. All she found was a canteen, empty, and a box of cigarettes. He'd brought nothing with him, but they knew exactly who he was.

All the way across the apartment, the front door was audibly kicked aside. They heard Lexaeus call, "Police!"

"In here!" Tifa called, sounding very tired.

The policemen dragged Xaldin's body into the back of a cruiser in a body-bag and called Zexion an ambulance. Cloud and Tifa rode with him on the way to the hospital, answering Officer Lexaeus's questions on the way.

"Was this the only attack?"

"No. Rai had tried to get him too," Cloud yawned, "No one was home but me. I got him arrested. I never told Zexion about any of it."

Tifa glowered, "You goddamn cops. Sephiroth's friends should have been included in your oh-so-thorough restraining order."

"My apologies," he gruffed, "But Sephiroth's friends' names are unknown, and most of them are killed and easily replaced within a month."

"Fuck everything about ghettos."

She went into conversation with Lexaeus on Sephiroth's whereabouts, also unknown, while Cloud kept his mouth shut, looking down at Zexion. He listened sullenly to the heart monitor's beep… beep… beep…

He'd left Zexion home alone to go to the grocery store to pick up a box of Lucky Charms, by his nephew's request.

Beep… beep… beep…

Zexion was only 12 years old.

Beep… beep… beep…

When Cloud came back, he'd found Zexion in the kitchen. He held a knife in his tiny hands. Like its blade, Zexion's young wrists were gleaming a stomach-churning red. Blood pooled out on the floor.

Beep… beep… beep…

That was the first time.

Beep… beep… beep…

And certainly not the last.

From that day on, a constant nightmare plagued Cloud's dreams. It was nothing. Not an image, not a smell, not a feeling. Just that one sound that would destroy him forever.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP…

"Zexion…" Cloud wanted to say more, but his throat caught. He choked on his words. All he could do was hold Zexion's hand. Pictures of Zexion in the ER passed through Cloud's mind, of having nurses holding him down, bracing for him to retaliate. Zexion didn't fight back. The kid simply laid there and actually watched the doctor put the stitches in his arms. It was as if he enjoyed the pain of the giant needle weaving through his skin like rubbery clothe. Cloud remembered the tightening in his own chest every time: a hand penetrating his ribcage and squeezing his heart mercilessly. That same sensation crept back into him again as tears spilled from his eyes, "Oh, God…" The only comfort he found was the steady beeps that said Zexion was still alive, even after Tifa had rested her head on his shoulder and held his other hand.

"So, Xaldin was drunk, decided it'd be fun to mess with his buddy's son, and broke into the apartment to shoot him?" Lexaeus asked, disgust ringing in his baritone voice.

Tifa clarified, "Yeah, seems like a good enough theory."

He nodded, putting away his notepad. The ambulance came to a slow halt. Lexaeus wished them a good day, promised them a phone call, and hopped into his partner's car to return to the station. Tifa and Cloud followed the paramedics as far as the lobby, then anxiously awaited their call.