A/N: To the Guest reviewer from last chapter: Because Shelke from DoC is in reality around 20 years old, I don't see that anyone would be 'taking her in and raising her'—she's not actually a child, even if she outwardly looks like one. All she needs to do is adapt to being a normal human being again instead of a Deepground soldier. That said, I don't see myself ever writing a fic based solely on DoC, but there's a story I'm also working on which may be a reasonable compromise (once it gets far enough along to introduce Shelke to the situation).

Trapped Awakening

When Genesis woke suddenly with a burst of strong pain and a yell, he swore and tried to rise (had he been laying down?), only to trip and fall on his face on the floor. It was made worse by him having landed on a bunch of round, hard objects, even as he heard more of 'them' falling to the floor nearby, the sound the distinct 'tink'-like chiming of Materia hitting a hard surface. The only thing he could say was marginally familiar was how his mind was talking to itself, though he was relieved to note that had nothing to do with Jenova's mind or cells.

He swore again as the initial pain faded and he tried to orient himself, but he felt actively dizzy and unable to balance. Part of that was probably because of the sudden shift in being shoved into his old body, which now had been changed on him. Even if it was a 'small' change, it was to his base genetics and was guaranteed to have a huge impact on him, but he'd been expecting that to mean his general health, not his ability to stand up!

"Genesis?" a worried voice asked, and he felt himself lifted into a pair of strong arms—familiar arms. A familiar voice.

"Angeal..." Genesis whispered, and before he could stop himself, he actually burst into tears and wrapped his arms tightly around the larger man who had been like his brother practically since they'd been born.

It took a long time for him to stop crying as he adapted to the realization that Angeal was still there, still alive, sane, and healthy. He really was there, holding him as he waited for his 'younger brother' to calm down, knowing Genesis needed the support right then—no matter how 'dramatic' Genesis could be, it didn't normally enter the realm of sympathy tears. In fact, Genesis himself couldn't think of a time when he'd used that particular tactic as it was a rather absurd one in his view. As being held by Angeal while his eyes were closed was strangely cathartic, he was in no hurry to change it.

Finally, when the younger of the pair by only about a month had stopped crying, Angeal's deep voice asked worriedly, "What happened, Genesis? This isn't like you, so it must be pretty serious. And—where did all this Materia come from? You didn't steal them, did you?"

The words made the red haired man give an amused snort, but he didn't open his eyes. "No, I didn't steal them, and apparently Leviathan's Blessing isn't limited to Wutains if the situation is serious enough." Minerva may not have intended that, but she herself had said it would resemble Leviathan's Blessing, and the Blessing was defined as knowledge of the future (not prophetic, experience), so he—all five who were sent back—could play on it. It gave them a ready-made story and reason for what happened.

"How do you mean, if the situation is serious enough?" Angeal asked tensely.

"Oh, the end of the world is serious enough, I would think," Genesis answered, relaxing against his 'brother'. When they'd been younger, they had often had such contact—brotherly hugs, leaning on one another's backs while doing homework, regular claps on the back or shoulders. "You know, ever since we came to Midgar, the—the comfort and companionship we used to have in Banora has disappeared. Actually, until now, the last time I remember you giving me a hug was when we were fifteen and about to head for the city."

Shock permeated the room, then a quiet thoughtfulness, until Angeal finally said quietly, "I hadn't realized, or thought either of us may miss that. Now that you've pointed it out, though...You're right. We were drifting apart bit by bit by losing that...closeness we used to have, weren't we? Do you...think we should—can—fix it? Or are you trying to tell me it's too late?"

"Be more brotherly again, you mean?" the younger of the two asked, and the older made an agreeing sound. "I think we can fix it, but we have another brother now, too, don't we? He needs to be brought into the fold, too."

"Sephiroth..." the larger man murmured. "Do you think he would accept this much physical affection? Part of the reason we stopped was because it made him uncomfortable just by watching it, I think."

Genesis rubbed his forehead and let his eyes drift open to see his old room at Shinra Headquarters—a place he'd deserted and betrayed, a place he'd thought he would never see again. He'd learned a lot about Sephiroth after deserting. Most of it wasn't pretty or pleasant, and he'd never realized before just how much the younger man had suffered. Back then, he'd always assumed Sephiroth's life was perfect.

"Angeal...Leviathan's Blessing gave me knowledge of what would happen in the future, what would become of him and of us...And Angeal, I truly believe all of us—we'd all have much better chances if we forge and maintain proper bonds of friendship and family. Sephiroth especially, with what I know about him now."

"What you know?" Angeal echoed uneasily.

For the first time, Genesis felt stable enough to push himself up to his knees, facing Angeal where he knelt on the floor of his room. As his Mako-blue eyes met Angeal's, the black haired man was showing his worry in his gaze openly, but he was also showing the same brotherly affection he had some years before, and hope as well. At the moment, like Genesis only wore shorts and a t-shirt for sleeping in, Angeal wore a pair of shorts and a tank top. That left the question of why Angeal was in his room, because he couldn't think of one, but otherwise—the man with his black hair falling smoothly to his shoulders and faintly tanned skin was just the way he remembered him.

"Sephiroth was effectively tortured by Hojo for his whole life, and his discomfort with our ability to touch one another came from him not being able to comprehend such easy affection because he's never known it. We have to show it to him, and no matter what happens, we both have to—stay with him, or he'll turn into someone we don't recognize anymore. And if he becomes someone we don't recognize anymore—you and he will both die terribly." At that point, Genesis stopped, but when he saw the other man open his mouth, he cut in quickly, "I don't want to go into details because it's bad enough I know them and might react to them when they haven't happened yet, might not ever happen, but if you at least don't know, you'll be able to anchor us both."

"...I see," Angeal said quietly, then gave a small nod. "If you had started quoting LOVELESS at any point in this whole explanation, I might have worried about your sincerity, but...You're really sure about this, so I'll accept, as long as you promise to tell me the parts which are really important."

"I promise," the red haired man agreed with a small smile.

"Now...about these Materia..." the black haired man went on in wry amusement, drifting off to let his 'younger brother' fill the rest in.

"They—appeared when I got the Blessing," Genesis answered with a small, puzzled frown, more out of curiosity of what they were than the fact that they were there. "I don't know what they are, but—let me see..."

He began gathering and checking them until he had a pile on the floor between himself and Angeal, a process the older man had watched and only participated in enough to brush his fingers over them to find out what they were. Otherwise, he didn't try to touch them, just waited for Genesis to finish finding them all—for a grand total of forty-six of them, many of them Mastered. Unicorn and Atomos were there, along with ten others—Bahamut ZERO, Alexander, Knights of the Round—and he even had two Final Attacks. He even had Comet and Full Cure with more mundane ones.

"Holy Alexander—a Mastered Knights of the Round...Leviathan sure decided to spare no expense on this attempt to fix things..." Genesis muttered in amazement.

"I noticed," Angeal agreed. "And they apparently don't care to be touched by anyone but you, so I guess you won't have to worry about thieves. What are you going to do with them?"

"Sort them out and figure out what I'm actually going to use," Genesis answered in wry amusement, then yawned. "But not tonight. By the way, why are you in my room?"

"You yelled and swore loudly enough that several Firsts in nearby rooms heard you," his 'older brother' answered in amusement, and the younger blinked in surprise. "My card can access your room, so I came to check on you at their insistence."

"And when you did not return in a reasonable time, they sent me to see what had apparently 'harmed' you both," a new, partly bland and partly amused voice commented from the door. "Where did those Materia come from?"

Both turned to look up at Sephiroth, who was standing in the doorway to Genesis' bedroom in a pair of black pants, silvery-white, fuzzy slippers, and a black t-shirt, his armored bracer around his wrist and his sheathed sword, the eight-foot-long katana called Masamune, in one hand. His long, silver hair was down but not combed properly, and his eyes were glowing green and slit-pupiled with very obvious slits at the moment because he'd obviously just been woken minutes ago. Why he didn't have the same Mako-blue eyes as everyone else was anyone's guess, though Genesis was pretty sure that was one of Jenova's traits. The man looked about eighteen to twenty, around the age he'd been when Genesis had gone off the deep end to start with or a bit younger, but with the silver haired man, it was very hard to tell. One thing was clear, though—this Sephiroth was fully sane, and it showed in his eyes.

Genesis jumped up—and before he'd quite realized he'd done it, he had his arms around the younger man, hugging him tightly and suddenly afraid to let him go for fear of seeing the insanity of the Nightmare again. Sephiroth was here, too, sane and healthy—and he wanted it to stay that way.

"Genesis—" the silver haired man began in alarm.

"Don't! Just—just let me deal with this after stupid Leviathan decided to shove his stupid Blessing on me and now I know things I didn't want to, and—I just need time to adapt to—you being here, being okay again," Genesis answered fiercely, holding onto him just as tightly as before.

"Angeal...?" Sephiroth asked of the black haired man in a helpless tone.

"Just let him. He already did that with me, because apparently part of what he saw was our deaths. It would help if you put your arms around him to hug him back, though," the black haired man said in wry amusement.

After a silence, the young General released a small sigh, set his sword against the wall, and lifted his arms to put them tentatively around Genesis' shoulders. When the other man didn't pull back, his grip tightened, and the red haired man relaxed into him as his own grip began to loosen a bit. While they were—affirming their brotherly bond, Angeal left the bedroom and went to the apartment door to let the others know they were, in fact, okay—Genesis had just ended up falling out of bed and landing on his Materia, which he'd been careless with the night before. Dealing with a very cross and tired Genesis was never fun, so they all headed back to their rooms and Angeal rejoined Genesis and Sephiroth, who hadn't moved from their positions.

It took nearly as long as it had taken with Angeal for Genesis to relax enough to push back from the other man. When he finally did, he looked up at him to meet his eyes as he said gratefully, "Thanks. I really just needed to—remember that those things haven't happened yet, and they can still be changed. More than anything, I don't want to see anything of those—events—happen again."

"What did you see?" Sephiroth asked apprehensively, his hands still resting on Genesis' shoulders. That was a good sign in the eyes of the other two, because it meant he was maintaining the touch, the comfort, of his own will.

"The end of the world, literally," Genesis answered sadly.

After a pause, Sephiroth asked prudently, "Was anyone else there with you, or were you alone? Do you—we—potentially have allies in preventing that outcome?"

Genesis blinked at the question as Angeal commented, "Actually, that's a really good question, and I should have thought to ask it. Well, Genesis?"

The red haired man paused, then nodded and said, "Four others had been among the 'last' with me. They may have also gotten the Blessing as a result. One of them is Tseng of the Turks—you know, the Wutain who already has some of Leviathan's gifts?—and the others...Two of them would be...probably in around the area of Nibelheim now, and the last was...from a group called Deepground—incidentally, the guys Ragnarok complained to you about, and the guys who took them out. The two in the Nibelheim area are Cloud Strife, a town resident, and Vincent Valentine, a former Turk who vanished around nineteen eighty from Shinra Manor. The last is named Weiss. Getting to him will be the hard part when Deepground is basically the President's private army, and in some ways they're stronger than SOLDIER. If I remember right, they're actually registered as a faction of SOLDIER, even though we've never seen or heard of them before. That place—won't be easy to get in to, let alone out of."

Both of his friends stared, then Sephiroth sighed and said, "That would explain why I saw Tseng wandering around blankly with his hair down and without footwear on my way to my room earlier."

"Tseng was?" Genesis asked in alarm. "Do you know what happened to him?"

"I thought little of it at the time beyond the fact that he seemed to be staying within the building, so was likely safe," the silver haired man explained.

"That's a good point," Angeal agreed. "We can check in with him tomorrow, since he should be in the office, or Director Veld will know where to find him if he reports in sick."

"This building isn't necessarily safe, and if he wasn't paying any attention to where he was going, who's to say he won't accidentally fall down a flight of stairs or something as mundane as that?" Genesis glared.

"Someone bearing Leviathan's gifts cannot die in a mundane way unless they are committing suicide knowingly," Sephiroth reminded him evenly. "If he were to walk into a danger zone, the gift would place someone or something in his path to intercede and prevent his death."

Admittedly, the point was a good one, so Genesis had to relent and give a small smile. "All right, you win that one. He'll be safe until we can talk with him tomorrow to see if he also knows. In the meantime, would it be all right for me to get some rest? We can't really go looking for any of the three others until we know about Tseng's position in this, and until we have a reason to go to Nibelheim. With Weiss...who knows if we can even get to him without causing chaos..."

"If the trend holds and the other three know the same things you do, then we will get to Weiss, even if that means throwing Shinra into chaos," Angeal answered, giving him a pat on the back. "But you're right, and we first have to check with the other three. Tomorrow, then. Rest well, Gen."

At the old nickname which he hadn't heard in years, Genesis smiled and answered, "Thanks, Ang."

Sephiroth blinked at them until they both looked at him and Angeal said, "Come on, Seph, let's give him the rest of the night to sleep."

"...What did you just call me?" the silver haired man asked in confusion.

"Seph," Genesis repeated. "Short for Sephiroth. It's commonly called a 'nickname' used between friends or family—and Seph, you're part of our family."

A very stunned Sephiroth allowed Angeal to take his arm, turn him around, and lead him out of the room so they could return to their own rooms and all three could get some sleep. None of them realized (until morning) that Sephiroth had left his sword behind.

MB

Weiss felt a strong throb from his body and sat up abruptly as he breathed hard, becoming aware of many glowing orbs sitting around his bed. Some had also ended up on the floor, as the beds in Deepground were always very narrow—and there was no doubt he was in his old room in Deepground again. The phantom pain in his body made him sigh, knowing he'd be feeling the full brunt of it when he was exposed to real sunlight for the first time. One thing he was grateful for, though, was the fact that they had private rooms, small as they were, which allowed him some privacy to deal with the Materia now scattered around his bed and floor.

And...his mind was apparently back to talking to itself, though this seemed to be a much more benign form than he was used to, rather than borderline psychotic.

Knowing it would take the others time to reach him, he also knew very few of the Materia were ones he'd be able to risk openly wearing until he was out of there, but he'd also need to have them ready to be able to grab and take with him. As such, he rose and gathered them, honestly shocked by the collection of forty-three Materia—three of the Summons he'd ended up with were the new ones, Carbuncle, the brown Fenrir, and Sylph, the three butterfly-winged beings (why were all three apparently part of the same Summon?). He felt Carbuncle was one he should probably keep on him, regardless, but everything else, no matter how powerful it was, couldn't be used right away.

As such, he found a bag to put them all in and hid the bag under his bed because he had nowhere else to put it. If he behaved no differently (not really, at least), they wouldn't be looking for him having hidden anything, so it was probably safe to have the bag there as long as it wasn't actively visible from anywhere else in the room. It wasn't (he checked, and he was shorter than the people who would be looking, so he could see more than they could), so he left it there and sat down again as he eyed the door. It was probably the middle of the night by the silence in the main room, so did he want to disturb that silence?

It wasn't really an issue of whether or not he'd be able to get to the bathroom as most of the residences in Deepground were designed with four or six small rooms like his off a 'common room' which also had a full bathroom. Even though the door from the 'common room' to the hall or out of the building would be locked at night, their bedroom doors and the bathroom door weren't. Depending on when he'd been sent back to, he could have anywhere between two and five other 'roommates'.

Finally, he decided to get up and use the washroom—looking at himself in the mirror would give him some idea of his current age—as it wasn't completely uncommon for him to do so. He knew it had never disturbed Nero, Rosso, Argento, Azul, or Shelke if he got up to take care of his needs, so he stepped out into the common room. What surprised him was that Argento sat in the chair on the far side of the room, the side-table lamp the only source of light, as she read.

He paused to stare at the Wutain woman, seeing her missing eye and the scar covering it, her long, black hair in a high ponytail, and her Mako-blue good eye. At the moment, she was dressed in a plain shirt and simple, soft pants, her feet bare and slippers on the floor at the foot of the chair she sat in. When the one glowing eye rose to him, he had a peculiar sensation of feeling like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. The last time he had felt so much threat from her—had been during her first year or so in Deepground.

"...You have the Blessing," she said to him suddenly, voice quiet, and the sense of piercing threat vanished.

"How do you know?" he asked her softly, surprised by how easily she'd known, and knowing he'd also be expected to hide the relief he felt at no longer being trapped in her gaze. He had always suspected she had actually been the most powerful of the Tsviets and had very deliberately cultivated an illusion of being weaker so no one would put the kind of pressure on her which had ended up being put on the others.

"They gain a—look in their eyes if they have it. If you...were given the Blessing, it means things have to change. We—" Argento abruptly stopped speaking, falling silent for a minute. She then went on, "Let me know when it's time to go, all right?"

The words caused Weiss enough amusement for his lips to quirk upward with it. "If you're sure you want to take that risk, I will, but in the meantime...Keeping it hidden won't be easy."

"No, it won't," she agreed quietly, eye moving back to her book. "You're eleven, by the way. The date is September twenty-fourth, nineteen ninety-eight. Until midnight."

Weiss blinked, then blinked again and said, "Thank you. That helps." She nodded, so he went to use the washroom before going back to bed. One look at himself in the mirror told him he was indeed eleven until his birthday on November seventeenth.

Nineteen ninety-eight...would two years be enough? Then again, Genesis now wouldn't be able to go insane from the degeneration of his cells, so the next point of real interest...was when AVALANCHE emerged. It felt both like so long and so little time, and he only hoped they could fix it all before it couldn't be fixed anymore.

MB

Vincent woke as he felt Chaos battling for dominance of his body, and snarled as he fairly exploded his prison to bits of wood chips, velvet scraps, and fluffy padding while forcibly taking back control of his own body. He was left panting on the remains of the coffin, his form that of Chaos—he could feel the wings on his back—but his mind his own and the room the one he knew from Shinra Manor's basement. This was the room of coffins Hojo had sealed him in because he hadn't been able to prevent his transformations from damaging the surroundings. He already knew there was no way out of the underground room with no windows and a solid, metal door with stone walls, but it had never been filled with faintly glowing orbs before, either.

Reverting to his human undead form while his mind apparently talked to itself (not to Chaos), Vincent hopped off the coffin remains and began wandering around the room to gather the Materia shards, of which he found forty-six in total. Some had been in the coffin when he'd destroyed it, so a good number of them had hit walls and floors and ended up at the edges of the room. A few he found in the little pocket of coffin left by his feet, where he hadn't done quite so much damage, and that turned out to be the best place for him to gather them all to. By the time he found them all, it was an impressive collection, though he wasn't all that surprised by it as he'd already known what was in Cloud's collection—he had helped make it, after all.

Rather, he was now left waiting for Cloud or the others to get their heads on straight and get to the room to unlock the door for him, so he was suddenly extremely glad to be undead, as that meant he had no need for food, toilets, or other such conveniences—like breathing, now that he thought about it. At times, he wished he had some of those things restored to him, but in all honesty, many of them were actually more trouble than they were worth. He really only missed eating and drinking, and, on rare occasions, certain human interactions which didn't function with a body which was technically dead.

In the meantime, he needed to start planning some of the things they'd need to do. Jenova was his to destroy, and had to be the very first problem they had to get rid of, but it was far from the only problem, and there was also the chance that they'd create more of them by turning up with the Blessing (how would Shinra react to a Blessed Tseng, for example?) or by changing some of the things they'd have to. Getting to Weiss, for example...

:Shall we talk, Host? Plan?: Chaos asked him with a smirk.

That was something else he didn't like—he'd always seen and taken Chaos as a monster, something vile, violent, and not sentient, more like a mindless beast. Now, he had little choice but to take Chaos as sentient, at least, as Minerva had said very specifically that he would need to talk with Chaos once he was reestablished as the being's host. Had that been the reason for the battle of wills, his and Chaos' need to reintegrate with one another?

:Do you even know what happened to the Planet after you parted ways with me?: Vincent asked tiredly.

:I had rejoined the Lifestream. Of course I know,: Chaos answered smugly.

The words caused the man to sigh and say, :Very well. Let's discuss things.: He was still going to approach Chaos warily, though.

Chaos was pleased by the answer.