"You need to get out more."
Sephiroth does not waste so much as a glance on the other man. Merely rolls his eyes and continues his paperwork. "Do you have something to report, SOLDIER?"
"Yup," Zack replies, moving to hop up onto the man's desk. Sephiroth sighs, leaning back, seeing that this is one of those many times in which the younger man won't be deterred. "I'm here to report that tonight I'm hitting the town and I'm taking my best friend with me."
The second eyeroll is more fond, though exasperated. "Zack, I'm not going drinking with you."
"Come on!" The man spins around, knocking things off the desk as he does. "You never get out of the office. You gotta let loose a little, have fun."
"Having fun is not part of the job description." He quirks an eye at the man. "We have jobs to do. Both you and I are expected at the event tomorrow. And I have responsibilities tonight."
"Ugh," Zack groans. "Hojo again?"
Sephiroth tries to ignore the loathing in the man's tone. "Father has asked –"
"I hate that you call him that." The other sighs. Sephiroth's throat tightens, but he doesn't look up.
"Father has asked that I perform a few tests tonight."
"He always has more tests!"
"They are vital to my performance."
"Gimme a break, you're performance is perfect." The man snorted. "It's your personal life that's lacking. A real father would care more about that."
Sephiroth says nothing. He has no defense, no explanation. Hojo is not a father in almost all respects – save that he is Sephiroth's biological father. Zack, cursing under his breath, finally stands and sighs. "Sure you don't want to come along?"
"Not this time," The silver haired man sighs. "Perhaps another."
Zack's eyes widen – never before has Sephiroth implied he might actually go with him. It's enough to make the man smile again. "I'll hold you to it!" He says, backing away while still facing the other. "See you,"
Sephiroth's reply is barely out of his mouth when Zack's already round the corner and down the hall. The office feels very empty without him.
The problem with Cloud's plan was, well… he didn't really have one.
Well, he did, it was just incomplete and looked something like:
1. Take Vincent to Midgar
2. Introduce him to Sephiroth
3. ?
4. Profit
Sighing, Cloud leans back and the mattress squeaks. It's some rundown place in one of the slums, the best he could afford. It's been four days since they arrived, and so far, it's been all but useless. Because of course they haven't run into the damn General of SOLDIER in the slums. But Cloud has no idea how to get any closer than he already has.
And he's running out of ways to delay returning home. Vincent is getting antsy, Cloud can tell. The man doesn't like to be this close to Shinra, not that Cloud blames him, and soon enough he's not going to want to hang around anymore. But they can't leave, not until…
Not until I fix all this.
Frowning determinedly, Cloud sits up quick. "Don't wait up," He tells the shadow hanging by the window, who glances at him.
"Where are you going?"
"Out." He tells Vincent. The man cocks an eyebrow. "Really, I'll be fine." He has his sword, and he's not carrying much of any value. "Back in a bit." Before the man can protest again, Cloud's gone, hoping beyond hope that he can poke around a bit and find something, anything, to put his plan together.
Three hours later finds a distressed, hopeless Cloud Strife wandering the slums. There's nothing. What the hell did he think he would find? A silver staircase up to Shinra Tower? A gold ticket inviting him to the Sephiroth's office? It's not like the common folk can just waltz in and meet the man. Cloud's a nobody, and nobodies don't talk to the General of Shinra.
Hope lost and ideas spent, Cloud wanders for lack of something to do, hating to return to the hotel. When he does, he'll have to tell Vincent he's ready to go, because there's no reason to stay. He's just wasting time and money trying. It breaks his heart and frustrates him to no end. It would be so perfect! Vincent could finally stop feeling so guilty, and Sephiroth could know his real dad. They were so close, damn it!
So upset and lost in thought, Cloud almost didn't notice the man approaching him. Just in time, the blond glances up and hops out of the way, catching the man's gaze.
"Whoa!" The brunette chuckled, backing up. "Sorry. Nice reflexes man." The man glances his way, then pauses, as if seeing him for the first time. Then he whistles. Cloud's eyebrows lift. "Damn. Are you a SOLDIER?"
Cloud blushes, confused. "Uh, no," Then, about panics when the stranger gets right in his face.
"But your eyes!" He insists. "And the way you just moved – I swear, I've only seen reflexes like that on a 1st class."
"R – really?" Shocked Cloud steps back. "I – I mean, the eyes are cause of Mako. I fell in some as a kid." The stranger stares incredulously. "A few times." More silence. "A lot of times."
"Huh." The stranger, hands on his hips, leans back. "What's your name, kid?"
Frowning, he crosses his arms. "My name is Cloud. And I'm hardly a kid, I've gotta be about your age!" Eyebrow raised, Cloud steps a little closer. "How'd you know so much about SOLDIER anyway?"
Grinning, the stranger points a thumb at his own chest. "Duh. Cause I am one. 1st class!"
Cloud blinks. A beaming smile spreads over his face in the next second, taking the man by surprise. The laugh and cheer surprises him even further, especially when it's followed by the blonde practically leaping on him, grabbing his shoulders with bellowing laughter.
When Cloud doesn't reappear by morning, Vincent starts getting a little worried. Of course, the boy is now an adult, and can do as he likes – and in respect for that, Vincent had decided to give him some space. If the young man wanted a night on his own in the big city, that was his choice.
But when he hadn't heard from him all night nor seen him in the morning, Vincent decided it was time to be worried. He tried the boy's PHS and got nothing; so he hit the town, asking about a young blonde country boy. No one had seen him. He's about close to panicking when finally he got the phone call.
"Vincent!" The boy on the phone sounds breathless, joyous. "I am so, so sorry,"
"Where have you been?" The man interrupts. "Are you alright?"
"Fine, fine, just – had a little too much fun last night."
It figured. Vincent had imagined this was the answer but still is frustrated with the young man. Still… it is expected of youth. So long as he is safe. "Where are you? I'll come find you."
"Uh… that's not – it's alright. I'll get cleaned up and meet you somewhere okay? I'll call you."
Vincent had also expected this. Whatever his night had been like, Cloud's obviously embarrassed and doesn't want Vincent to see the raunchier details of it. He can respect that. "… Fine. But do so quickly." He needs visible proof the man is safe.
"Okay, I will, promise. I'll call you soon."
They hang up, and Vincent sighs, pocketing the device. To be that age again. Cloud is a good boy, but he's still a boy, still so young. With his maturity it is easy to forget sometimes.
So Vincent finds himself with some time to spare. Knowing Cloud is safe, he feels much more at ease – but Midgar makes him nervous. Too many SOLDIERs and infantrymen, too strong of a Shinra presence. Especially today. Apparently some sort of parade or event is happening, and the streets are being cleared to prepare for it. Vincent almost wants to leave… but the idea, the small possibility that he might be here…
He wants to see him. Just… some proof that he lived, that he's alright…
Vincent stays. He hides in a corner of the nearest café, and sits, waiting.
It was a long, busy night – just not for the reasons Vincent had thought.
Cloud wakes with a groan as if he did have a hangover. He'd gotten maybe one or two hours of sleep. His new friend is already awake, somehow managing squats in the front of the room.
"I can't believe you," Cloud shakes his head. "How are you this awake?"
"Practice." Zack replies with a grin. It's only been a few hours since they met, but somehow the other's warmth and friendliness have made them much closer. He stands from his last move, and extends a hand to the other boy. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah, just – gotta make a call."
"Right." Zack nods. "Seph's dad. That's still so weird to think of – I mean not that I'm 100% sure it's true – I mean, I believe you believe it –"
"I get it." Cloud shakes his head. "Trust me, when you see him…"
"Alright, but deal's a deal – I meet him first, and if I believe it, then we go see Sephiroth." Zack's eyes suddenly go wide. "Aw, damn, Seph! I forgot! We're supposed to be part of this press event today!" Grabbing his hair, the man groans. "Aw, shit."
"With Sephiroth?" Cloud leans down to put on his shoes. "Let me come with you. Give me a chance to talk to him!"
"Look, I said –"
"I know, and I won't say a word about that. But – there's other stuff… things he should know."
Zack, sighing, finally shakes his head. "Alright, alright. He should have the chance to hear all this for himself. Just – take it easy okay? He may not seem like it but he's pretty delicate about some things."
Cloud nods. He can get that. "Yeah – I understand."
They get clean and dressed, and head out together.
Sephiroth Jenova has grown accustomed to attempts on his life, deliberate or otherwise. From time to time it felt like the labs were trying to kill him, and then there were the purposeful attempts to kill him, which more than not happened at events like this.
A public statement to the world: General Sephiroth, dead on the stage. It would certainly be something – if anyone could actually make it happen.
He sees them coming from a mile away. Hears the shot, taken from across the courtyard in the most obvious position possible, and more than likely the Turks will be upon the enemy in minutes. Sephiroth doesn't fret. His blade swipes through the air and the threat is ended as two pieces of metal clunk to the floor.
That, apparently, is not all. The crowd screams as enemies swarm in – not actually that many, to be honest, and barely enough for Sephiroth to break a sweat. How trite. The man huffs, sheathing his sword again, before making to step down from the stage.
At this point, he expects things like this. Assassination attempts, murder plots, screaming crowds parting in fear in his wake. All relatively normal.
The great winged demon descending from the sky out of nowhere to settle in from of him? Less normal. Much, much less normal.
Sephiroth blinks, stunned, for two reasons: one, this creature is clearly not with the soldiers who are attacking, because he can tell the enemy is a Wutaian group of freedom fighters, from their style of dress to the way they wield the blades they're fighting with. Clearly, they had planned to take Sephiroth down before attacking the stage and eliminating the rest of Shinra's top heads. It hadn't worked so well for them.
This fellow is definitely not with the Wutaians. He's in no uniform, he's not wielding the same weapons, and by the stunned reaction from the enemy force, they weren't expecting him either.
The second reason: the demon rips the first Wutaian in his path to bloody ribbons with a bestial roar, his back to Sephiroth, wide open for attack. Apparently not here to attack Sephiroth, but… defend him.
That is very new.
Sephiroth absentmindedly defends against an array of attacks from the Wutaians, dodging blows and striking back, all while keeping the demon in close sight. Wide eyes watch as claws tear and sink into the enemy without mercy, and Sephiroth scowls.
Is this some new experiment of Hojo's? Some defense mechanism, should his "precious project" come under fire? He'd never been told of such a thing. But it's clear from the way it moves and acts that this creature is solely there to protect Sephiroth.
The idea is mind-boggling. The man harrumphs. No one protects him – it's his job to protect others. It's what he was made for, he'd like to believe. Hojo tells him otherwise, tells him things… he'd rather not think about.
Sharp green eyes keep track of the demon, until a cry gains his attention. Enemies have made it to the stage, where the Turks stand defending the president. At close range, the swordsman have the advantage, and are pressing it. Sephiroth scowls, cursing this distraction for taking up his time, but storms over to defend him anyway.
He doesn't make it; the moment he steps onto the stage and back into the line of fire the sniper tries again. Apparently the Turks hadn't gotten to him yet. The shot is off by a good foot, but manages to turn the President's skull into something reminiscent of an exploding watermelon. Sephiroth only has a moment to contemplate the idea that the President is dead before another shot fires. He spins to face it, and sees a wall of black and red.
The creature takes the bullet – and it roars in fury, clearly facing the enemy but making no move to go after him. It stays in front of Sephiroth, blocking his entire view and his field of motion.
He tries to sidestep – the demon moves. He tries jumping him; the demon keeps in line with his flight. Sephiroth is boxed into a corner by this overprotective bat and the man has never been so perplexed and honest to goodness stumped in his life.
"What are you?" He finally asks with a sigh, realizing that this amazingly fast and powerful creature can somehow keep up with even him. At those words, the beast turns its head towards him.
There's… something in his eyes. Intelligence, beyond mere instinct. Feeling, emotion, powerful emotion. Most of all, Sephiroth can tell in the glint of ruby red that the beast is – sad.
Next he knows, those eyes widen in shock, followed by a low moan, before it slumps forward. Sephiroth hardly knows what he's doing when he rushes forward to catch it. The thing is surprisingly heavy, for being so lithe, but it loses some of that weight as the wings began to shift and move into themselves, as if vanishing beneath the skin. The muscles and bones crack and shift, until a much skinnier, much more human looking man is in Sephiroth's arms.
Sephiroth turns him, cradling a thin unconscious figure in his lap. A young man, about his age, maybe a few years older. No sign of the demonic display from earlier – it's as if this is a whole other person.
… what … the … hell?
"Oh, hey," Zack gives an awkward chuckle, sliding to a halt. Cloud barely notices in time to stop before hitting him. "Looks like the… party's over…"
They'd run across town to make it to the press event – some debut of some weapon or another, Cloud didn't know or care – he just knew Sephiroth was going to be there. Zack was supposed to be, too.
"He's gonna kill me," Zack groans, dragging a hand down his face.
The square where the presentation had been is a wreck. Dead bodies are sprawled about – not many, but enough to be noticeable because hey dead bodies. Cloud blinks at the sight, trying to keep from throwing up, bile in the back of his throat.
"Okay…" Looking away, he scans the area. "Gross." Civilians are gone; the area's being tapped off, Turks and SOLDIERS everywhere, centered upon the stage. "Where's Sephiroth?"
"Kid…" Zack sighs, stepping forward. "We may have bigger problems right now." Still, Cloud makes to follow as he walks away, until the guards try to stop him. There's a minute where Cloud thinks Zack will leave him behind but Zack waves them off. "He's with me."
Relieved, Cloud chases after, scanning the crowd for the tell-tale silver hair of the General. One part of him is on high alert for him, aware that this is his one shot at fixing things for Vincent; the other, well…
SephirothishereSephirothishereSEPHIROTHISHERE.
His heart is practically thrumming in his throat, his pulse a steady drumbeat in his ears. Cloud cannot believe this is happening. But he shoves aside that disbelief and excitement because he can't focus on that now. He has a mission. For Vincent.
"Sir!"
Cloud straightens, following Zack's gaze to the stage. It's… oh. Another dead body. Great. Still, he follows, reluctant to lose his one connection to Sephiroth. Who is there.
Holy shit Sephiroth is right there!
In spite of himself Cloud's feet freeze and refuse to move. He's staring, he knows he is. Staring at the gorgeous six foot frame in front of him, tall and lithe but clearly muscular. He takes a moment to think, Monstrously tall and skinny, who's that like? Before taking a terrified step forward.
The General is angry. Furious, even. Cloud can't hear over the screeching in his own brain (sephirothsephirothsephiroth) but he can tell the man is not happy. He keeps gesturing to the body on the stage, red faced and screaming at his second in command.
His second… oh.
"E – Excuse me." Cloud steps forward. "Excuse me, sir!"
The second call gets a pair of vivid, bright green eyes on him, focused to angry slits. Somehow Cloud manages a shiver that isn't entirely from fright. Seriously? Right now?
"I, um, that is," Gulping, he pulls himself together. He came here for a reason damn it! He's not a twelve year old pining over some distant hero anymore. Straightening his back he steps closer. "Zack is late because of me."
"Kid…," Zack glances between them, clearly unsure of how to handle this. He sighs. Then, turns back to his boss. "I met him under the plate. He had some… interesting things to say. Interesting enough I thought you should meet him."
"You missed a vital mission because of a teenage boy?" Sephiroth's voice is smooth, sultry, cold as ice. That's definitely a tingle Cloud feels going down his spine. Is it hot in here? "I hope what he has to say is very, very interesting because the President is dead and more heads are going to roll after this Zack, and both you and I are in the line of fire now because of your behavior."
The man pales further and further the more he's dressed down. Cloud's brain freezes – what the hell happened here?
"Hey, I'm not a teenager." Cloud finally says. "My name's Cloud. I came here from across the continent just to talk to you –"
"I don't have time at the moment for whatever story you've contrived to impress my naïve lieutenant." The man spits. "If you are still insisting upon speaking after this is taken care of, we will speak then –"
"Contrived?" Cloud feels the heat on his cheeks for an entirely different reason. Anger rolls through him from the tips of his toes to his spiky head. Contrived? "I'll grant that you have more important things to do at the moment, I understand, and I'm sure you've got a hell of a lot of stress weighing down those shiny shoulder pads of yours," Cloud spits, poking one of said pads as he does, "But that is no reason to go bein' rude to somebody you haven't even properly introduced yerself to, let alone your damn friend here – who might I add chose to risk getting into trouble to hear me out for you. And you know, what I don't understand," Cloud crosses his arms, completely ignoring all the warning signs around him, the way Zack's eyes are bugging out, how Sephiroth has turned to face him completely. "Is how you can be so pissed at the fellow for not being here, when you were, and the man died. Whose fault is that?"
"Holy shit Cloud shut up." Zack starts dragging his finger across neck in the universal "you're dead" symbol.
It begins to sink in through the furious fog over his mind exactly what he's said, and to who. Cloud pales. Wide shaking eyes meet furious green ones. Furious, but thoughtful green.
"What was your name again?" Sephiroth asks quietly.
"U – Uh, Cloud, sir." The man stammers. Why is he not eviscerated yet? "Cloud Strife."
The man's eyes dance over his face. "You are not a SOLDIER."
"… no?"
"And yet…"
"You noticed too huh?" Zack leans in a little. There's something softening between them, a bit of the angry veneer wearing off. "Mako eyes."
"I spent a lot of time in an abandoned Shinra lab as a kid." Cloud tells them. The more candidly honest he is at this point, the more Sephiroth will hopefully believe him. As expected, Sephiroth's brows lift somewhat.
That's the last thing Cloud notices about him, however; his gaze drifts to what's behind him. To a gurney, being wheeled into an armored car, upon which lays a heavily secured unconscious body.
"Vincent!"
Cloud bursts through Sephiroth and Zack, taking both by surprise. He's screaming himself hoarse, watching in horror as the gurney is lifted into the truck. Bodies get in his way, accidentally, then deliberately, people grabbing him – he's not even thinking, he just reacts. He moves, the way he's practiced, the way he's only ever had to with monsters, Nibel Wolves, failed science projects and things decidedly inhuman.
He fights, doesn't think, just reacts, as tears well in his eyes. "Vincent!" The man doesn't respond. Is he still alive? Is he hurt? Cloud feels guilt and pain choking him as the doors to the van shut, and lock, and he finally manages to elbow the nearest person in the face and toss the rest off. "Vincent!"
But next he knows, a much more powerful set of arms wraps around his waist. Stiff like bars of iron, and he can't shake them, which prompts a shattering scream. This is his fault. Him and his stupid ideas, leading Vincent right back into the belly of the beast, to the people who hurt him in the first place. And now a Shinra van is driving off with his friend and it's all his fault.
He roars – grabs the man's arms, leans forward, flips, and body-slams him.
It's enough to release the grip, for a moment, but Cloud's disoriented too. He's never actually tried that move for real, before. When he stands, he can barely see, dizzy, tear-blind, and then – a hand grabs his neck, firm but gentle – then nothing.
Vincent Valentine should not have come back to Midgar. The Turk in him knew that. The man in him… could not deny Cloud Strife anything.
Terror is thrumming beneath his skin but he tries his best to mask it. His face is a cold façade, his heartbeat, if he had one, would be a mile a minute. Strapped to a gurney in a Shinra vehicle, he is all but trapped in his own worst nightmare. The only small hope he clings to, is that he might manage escape in between transitioning out of the car, into the building. If they underestimate him, if they don't know who they're dealing with… it's a small chance. But it's something.
He hopes Cloud goes home. Hopes he gives up any thought of finding him, retrieving him. Most likely, the boy has no idea what has happened to him, which is… for the best. He should have been left in the basement, anyway.
The doors open. Vincent braces himself, waits for the right moment… then, he sees the shine of cold fluorescent light across wide spectacles. A familiar trembling laugh, made husky by the passing years.
His hopes waver and die. Fury and fear and sheer outrage race through him bringing the transformation with it, and he howls, trapped, as a barrier appears between him and his prey. He's fallen for a trap. Leapt into a magic spell he can't escape from. Walls descend around him – outside the truck, he sees sterile walls, bright lights, machinery, equipment… the acrid smell of chemicals and a room that is much too clean.
Chaos screams and Vincent cries, the sounds practically the same. And thirty years later, Hojo is still laughing.
A poster on Cloud's wall is talking.
"You're a liar, and I don't like you," Sephiroth, on the poster, says to him.
"Well, fine," Fifteen year old Cloud, lying in bed, mutters. "I don't need you anyway. I have friends."
"You have a creepy dead guy that lives in a basement."
"That dead guy is your dad."
"Is not."
"Is too."
"Cloud," Vincent's face appears in the air vent in the floor, gripping the bars like it's a prison cell. "He's not my son."
"See?" Sephiroth points at him. They are both making the identical "I told you so" look. Cloud groans.
"You have the weirdest bedhead, you know that?"
At that, Cloud sits up. "What?"
"Your hair. It's so pointy most of the time." Vincent says. Which… doesn't really sound like him at all. "But now it's a wave, all on one side. Like a barbed wire fence." He chuckles.
Cloud blinks; white and blue blur his vision into a cloud mess, until the cloudiness fades away and he's left with a man's face, right in front of him. He jumps, which startles the other, who leaps away.
"Whoa! Jumpy guy aren't you?"
Cloud breathes heavily – he sees the sharp bluish-black hair, the bright green eyes, and remembers. Zack. He sighs a little.
"You're one to talk about hair," He grumbles sleepily. The next moment his eyes widen, and he leaps out of bed. "Vincent! Where -?"
"Hey, calm down!" Zack holds up his hands. "Seph's off trying to find your buddy right now. So just relax okay?"
"I can't," Cloud pushes past him, looking for a door. He's in a large apartment, a loft of some kind, which from a glance looks a lot posher than anything he's ever seen. The appliances are all new and shiny, the furniture clean and not worn hand-me-downs. That's Shinra for you. "This is my fault, I have to find him."
"Slow your roll, kid." Zack steps in front of him. "I promise the General is going to have a much easier time getting Shinra's people to tell him where Vincent's been holed up than you will. Just breathe, and wait a minute. He'll be back."
Shinra's people… so they had caught him. My fault.
"Hey, why the long face?" Zack lowers his hands, gaze narrowed and puzzled. "I mean… I know Shinra's not perfect… but you look like we killed your dog, or something."
"Or something." He mutters, for lack of anything to say. Cloud's eyes fall to the floor and grow blurry with tears, but he doesn't cry, or sob, or fall apart. He sits motionless, cold, letting them roll down his face.
"Cloud, hey," Zack is beside him, a hand on his knee, in the next moment. "There's a lot you haven't told me, isn't there? About this Vincent guy?" Cloud slowly nods. "Vincent, that's – the one you think is…?"
Nodding more fervently, Cloud wipes at his eyes. "He is, I'm certain. I have proof." He's been putting together his own file on them. Brought it along, too… but it's back at the hotel. He tells Zack as much and the SOLDIER sets to getting Cloud's things brought over to them.
As he does that, Cloud leans back, trying not to fidget too much. He just has to hope that Vincent is lying in a medical ward somewhere, or a prison cell maybe, something temporary and normal and not out of a Mary Shelley-esque nightmare. He has little hope in that regard. Kind thoughts for Shinra have left him, nowadays.
Zack reapproaches a moment later, heaving a heavy sigh, falling hard into the couch across from him. "Bad news buddy,"
"Of course it's bad." He groans, hands over his face, rubbing his temples.
"Shinra's in the shit at the moment." The man sighs. "That attack today killed the President. Apparently it was part of a coordinated movement meant to take out all the bigwigs. Almost worked, too. Sephiroth made it, and so did the President's kid, but a lot of the others didn't. Scarlet – no big loss – Heideigger, another assole… a few small names, too. Anyway, everybody's scrambling trying to figure out what's going on and who reports to who. It might be a while before we figure out what's going on with your friend."
Sitting up, Cloud shakes his head. "That's not good enough." Zack looks ready to protest but the blond holds up a hand. "You don't understand – I can't leave him here like this."
The brunette's eyes narrow. "Then help me understand." He scoots forward. "Tell me everything."
"Yes,"
Both jump at the third voice, turning to the doorway, where one General Sephiroth stands. The man approaches, long even steps made quicker, almost impatient, by frustration. It's clear in his voice, his tense posture, the sharpness of his eyes. "I would like to hear… everything."