Days Earlier
The Day of President Shinra's Assassination
She moves swiftly and silently through the shadows, even with the weight on her back. The man groans and she whispers to him, trying to keep him quiet as she moves. Sirens are blaring all around, every screen and television flashing with the news. PRESIDENT DEAD, KILLERS ON THE RUN.
Coming to a halt at a corner, the girl glances into the street and curses. A squad of Shinra military grunts line the exit, and even more are running around them searching the area. It won't be long before she's caught.
A whisper at her ear draws her attention. The man speaks to her; her eyes widen. She shakes her head furiously but he keeps talking. Finally, she gives a slow nod, biting at her lip, and helps him down off her back.
Blood is coating the floor beneath him. Seeing it, she realizes he's long gone already. The man meets her eyes and smiles, before gritting his teeth. Then he's gone, blade drawn and screaming in Wutaiese at the soldiers. She takes advantage of the opening he's given her, darting for the entrance to the underground nearby. As she dives below, she hears the gunshots. Every one has her flinching with phantom pain.
Distracted and distraught her foot misses the next step on the ladder and she falls, unable to catch herself. Pain shoots like knives through her skull, followed by flashing lights, then nothing.
Next she knows, she's in agony and lying down, unable to see, and panicking.
"Hey, hey, slow it down!" Footsteps, heavy ones, approach her. Then she's being pushed down, which she reacts to with a swift hit to the solar plexus. "Shit, the fuck you -?"
She sits all the way up, and realizes suddenly she's not held down, and she's not blindfolded – there was an ice pack on her head, which fell off when she righted herself.
The young woman looks around to see not a prison cell, but a small bedroom, cheaply decorated, and a large dark skinned man seated beside her. She tenses immediately, and goes for her weapon which to her shock is no longer at her waist.
"Who are you?" She asks, fear coloring her face. "What do you want? Where are we? You haven't touched me have you? I swear, if you've done anything gross I'll kick the crap out of you! I'm a ninja!"
"Damn kid, chill!" The man holds up his hands – his huge hands, one of which is holy shit made of metal – leaning back. "I didn't touch you! I mean, I touched you –"
"I knew it!" Leaping into a crouch, the girl holds her fists up, furious.
"To heal you! Shit!" Scoffing, the man shakes his head. "You are one tightly wired kid."
It occurs to her suddenly that the man is right – she doesn't hurt. Glancing down she sees all her wounds, both from the fight against Shinra and the fall, are healed or bandaged. But why? She's dressed in all black, in clothing typical of Wutai, in the ninja style. She even has her country's symbol on the shoulder, and the symbol for Leviathan on her back. It's all over the news. He has to know what she is, right?
Brows furrowed, the girl looks at him. "Why help me?"
The man snorts. "You kiddin'?" Then laughs. "Your people killed President Scumbag. Far as I'm concerned, you're my damn best friend." He smiles, and the warmth in it is kind, friendly. Almost fatherly. She finds herself settling, feeling comforted despite her unease. "Name's Barret Wallace."
The girl blinks. She hesitates for only a second. "I'm – the White Rose." Flushing, she catches herself. She'd almost said her real name! "Look, thanks for your help, but I can't stay here."
"No, shit." The man says. "You got a plan to get out?"
Her look falls.
"That's what I thought." Barret chuckles. "Look, you want out of Midgar? I can get you out. Give me a little time, I'll put it together." He stands as he speaks. "Just lay low, alright?"
Frowning, the girl follows him with her eyes. "Why? What do you get out of it?"
He smiles again. "Enemy of my enemy and all that, right?" Then he's gone, leaving the girl with more questions than answers.
The security at the gate is tough like nobody's business. Barret had seen that coming, of course; so many of Shinra dead, and more than 8 of the insurgents involved hadn't been found or caught. Travel within the city, and especially without, had been all but stopped. The first day, no one went anywhere. A few days after, travel was finally permitted but every gate was heavily guarded, and getting through meant having ID and passing a background check.
Barret, luckily, has always kept his official persona safe. He's never been caught during his… side work with AVALANCHE, so getting through should be easy enough. He hopes.
"What's with the bag?"
Barret glances at the canvas bag resting over his shoulder. "Camping gear," He says. "Heading home to Correl to visit family." That will check out, and hopefully the fact that he looks nothing like a Wutai nationalist will help.
The man frowns at the screen, but eventually nods. "You can go."
Just barely Barret holds the sigh of relief in. He's been in places where he could get in trouble, but nothing like this – harboring a fugitive who helped murder the president could literally get him killed. But it looks as if the worst is over. He's strolling out the gate, heading towards the wilderness with long, steady strides.
Still. It's a long damn way to Wutai. Not that he said he was gonna help this girl out that much. That's a big commitment, and he's got other people to think of. Jessie's watching Marlene for the moment, and Barret trusts her with his life and Marlene's… but a trip to Wutai would take months. He can't be without his baby girl for that long.
Once they're far enough from Midgar that he can't see the gate anymore, Barret sets the bag down. "Coast's clear."
The bag unfurls, and the young brunette steps out. "Whew, I was roasting in there!" Shaking herself off, the girl adjusts her new clothes. It's nothing fancy, just a pair of shorts and a shirt, but it does a lot to keep her from looking like a runaway criminal. "Thanks for the help."
"No problem, like I said." Barret hesitates, rubbing the back of his head. "You sure you're good to go from here?"
"Yeah!" The woman beams. She hefts her weapon onto her shoulder – something Barret had purchased for her, a giant ninja star he's a little reluctant to let her have. Yes, he knows this "White Rose" is a legal adult and member of a resistance military – but she's so young. Every instinct has him taking the sharp pointy thing and shuffling the girl off to the nearest place of safety that isn't the monster infested wilderness.
She's still grinning at him. "Really, thanks. You saved my hide." Then, with a small wave, she turns, and just walks away. And Barret stands there, watching, and all he can think is this little girl is someone else's baby girl, and if Marlene were ever in this situation on her own, crossing the damn world by herself…
"Damn it," Barret mutters, before taking after her.
North of Nibelheim
There's so many god damn wolves.
Huffing with annoyance Cloud tugs his sword out of the body of one and almost falls back in doing so. Tifa manages to prop him up with her shoulder, grinning at him.
"Lucky I tagged along." She winks. Another wolf is rushing her and Cloud doesn't even have to warn her before the woman turns and punches the shit out of it. The blond watches with admiration. Much as he loves swords, he admires the hell out of Tifa for her fighting style and the fact that she just punched a wolf in the face.
When the girl had learned about their plan to travel north, she'd insisted on tagging along to watch Cloud's back. The man had been touched – sure, they were close friends and there for each other, but there was something different about agreeing to become involved in political intrigue and spy shit for said friend.
Cloud had tried to say so, insisting she not become involved, but Tifa wouldn't have it. "Besides," She'd said, "I still have to arm wrestle the General."
Aerith had been as determined as Tifa, only she had been arguing with Zack, not Cloud. The man had begged and pleaded with her to remain safely in Nibelheim but she wouldn't hear it. And when Zack had turned to his superior for help, Sephiroth had merely cocked an eyebrow.
"She is the only proficient healer available to us." The man had said. "As far as unnecessary or redundant skill sets go, I'd rather leave you behind." Zack pouted and moped about that particular burn for a long time.
So here they were, six strange companions crossing a mountain range together. Two days had already passed, and the trip had become the journey from hell, if hell was cold and full of wolves.
Finally it seems the last of the wolves has been taken care of, the bodies strewn across the mountain. Cloud sighs, sweeping the blade through the air in an attempt to clean it of blood.
"Is all the wildlife here this friendly?" Zack huffs, approaching from ahead.
"Nibel wolves have always been notoriously unfriendly." Cloud tells him. "Most stuff on the mountain is."
"Hmm." Vincent eyes the dead wolves with a sharp, narrowed gaze. "They were not acting like predators. They were simply driven to kill."
Cloud notices Sephiroth barely tensing beside him – just a hint of movement he wouldn't have noticed if they weren't almost beside each other. The man stands in front and to the side of him, and Cloud can't see his face, but he seems… uptight.
"Whatever." The younger SOLDIER puts his arms behind his head. "Let's get moving again. I'm beyond tired of snow."
Camp was a makeshift circle of three tents centered around a fire pit hastily dug out of the snow. Everyone, even the General, gravitated to the warmth; save for Vincent, who claimed that he had long ago ceased feeling much of anything, physically at least. When no one could think of anything to say to that, Cloud swiftly cleared his throat and changed the subject.
"So," He starts, seated on a log with his elbows on his knees. "What's the plan, Stan?"
Sephiroth blinks. "That is not my name."
Faltering, the blond sighs. "I know it's not – it's a saying. A phrase. Whatever, it doesn't matter. Back to the question – what are we doing after we find this guy?"
"I will be escorting him to Shinra Headquarters with Lt. Fair." The General begins. Beside him, Zack sits, watching his boss talk while stuffing his face full of one of the sandwiches Mrs. Strife packed for them. "Hopefully his presence will be enough of a catalyst to buy us time to prove Hojo's wrongdoings, and expel him from the company. Then, someone may step in and take the reins until the chaos dies down and Rufus Shinra can safely step in."
"Is that really a good plan?" Aerith snorts. She's sitting on Zack's left, picking at twigs absentmindedly, throwing the broken pieces in the fire. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, you know."
"Is this another phrase?" Sephiroth's eyebrow tilts skyward.
"She means," Vincent, hovering just outside the circle, approaches Sephiroth's back. "That sons are much like their fathers. Rufus may be no different than the previous President was – the man who permitted Hojo to act as he did in the first place."
Something tightens in Sephiroth's face. He's not looking at anyone, he's staring into the snow, like it just spat in his face. Then he blinks and the stunned look is gone. "Yes. There is that risk. For the moment, we must work on the assumption that he will eventually take over the company, and worry about the rest later."
"Yeah, one catastrophe at a time," Zack comments around his food. "'Sides, Rufus can't be all that bad. Tseng likes him."
"Hmm," Aerith hums, but doesn't disagree.
"What about you?" Cloud pips up. He's nervous, hands jittery, and he clenches them to keep them from moving. "I mean…" Sephiroth just blinks and offers no comment. Sighing, Cloud shrugs. "You know… with … the stuff."
"Brilliant, spiky," Zack remarks. Cloud grabs a ball of snow and tosses it at his face.
He doesn't really want to say 'remember that time you went berserk and kicked my ass'? But he's pretty sure that whole event is god damn important. Because there is something out there that can drive the most powerful man in the world into an uncontrollable, unreasonable killing machine, and Cloud has no idea what triggered it. Neither does Sephiroth.
But he can't bring himself to say it. Not here, not in this peaceful setting where for once Sephiroth looks a little… normal. He's slouching on the log, face lit up by warm firelight, eyes half lidded and tired. There's very little distance between him and the others out of necessity. Normally, Sephiroth keeps himself so far apart from everyone. It feels like saying anything about the incident would put all that distance back in… maybe not physically, but emotionally.
Cloud's not sure when he got all Dr. Phil but it's annoyingly hard to handle. Here he is, the only one who knows Sephiroth might suddenly decide he wants to kill them and no one can really stop him – save for sheer dumb luck – and out of nobility he's keeping it to himself. Ugh.
He can't even tell Vincent. The man is Sephiroth's father, whether or not he'll admit it, and the idea that Sephiroth might go nuts… that he might…
That's not a road anyone wants to go down.
Cloud barely notices a nudge against his arm. Then, he's nudged again, harder, and jumps. Turning, he sees Tifa leaning forward, concerned eyes wide. "You okay?"
He manages a nod. "Yeah just, - thinking."
She nods in reply. Turning her gaze skyward, the brunette smiles. "You know, we've almost gotten past the summit." She smiles wryly. "Tomorrow, we'll be on the other side of the mountain." Tifa's gaze turns thoughtful. "All these years, and I'll finally have crossed Mt. Nibel."
"Oh…" Realizing, Cloud follows her gaze, up to the mountain's peak. Heart heavy, he wraps an arm around her. "Right." He squeezes, reassuringly, and she smiles.
"When your young it's so hard to imagine your parents aren't right there, right in front of you, like they always were. Where you can reach out and touch them." She lowers her gaze to the fire. "But the truth is, though it seems like they're gone, they're always there, everywhere. Just 'cause you can't reach them…" Tifa turns to look at him. "Doesn't mean they can't reach you. Right?"
Slowly, he kinda nods. "That sounds… a little creepy when you put it that way."
She elbows him, hard. "Jerk. I was trying to be profound here."
"Please, stop. It's painful." Another elbow to the gut. "I have wounds you know."
"I'll give you some more to go with them."
"Children, please." The two are interrupted by Zack, who is standing opposite them across the fire. "Some of us are about to try and sleep."
"Is it bedtime already?" Tifa stands, giving a stretch. "I guess I could use the rest."
"How're we sleeping?" Cloud stands too, though he's far from tired. "What's the setup?"
"Well, I guess –"
"The women will be together." Vincent – who had been all but absent for most of the night – suddenly makes a reappearance. Almost from nowhere in the shadows, he appears, standing outside the circle. Zack squawks in shock, half falling over. "Cloud, you will share with the General. Zack will be with me."
Cloud's brain halts to a stop, and his mouth drops open. "Wait – what?"
"Yeah, what?" Zack scratches his head. "This is a little weird."
"You will be with me," Vincent insists, turning to glare at the younger man, "Because you are currently the only young man here with a paramour. I will see to it that there is no… funny business."
Zack's face turns to about the same shade of red as Vincent's cape. Aerith blushes some too, but mostly giggles at the flabbergasted look on her boyfriend's face.
Cloud, meanwhile, has absolutely no color in his face – he's horrified. Dumbstruck. Having a heart attack, possibly. Why would Vincent do this to him? Was he really so concerned about Aerith's virtue that he would submit Cloud to the most torturous and painful night of his life?
Zack, sighing and shaking his head, agrees to Vincent's set up and turns to get ready for bed. That prompts the rest of them to dismiss to their own activities. In the midst of the movement, Vincent turns, meets Cloud's gaze – and smiles.
It clicks.
He thinks he's doing me a favor, Cloud gawks, stunned. Wait – he's setting us up!
"Vincent!" He fumes, knowing the man can hear him even as he turns and walks away to brood further from camp. In fact, Cloud could almost swear the man was chuckling.
"Ah, is this uncomfortable for you because you are sexually attracted to me?"
Laying on the round in his sleeping bag in the tent, back towards Sephiroth, Cloud groans heavily. "Oh my god, why would you bring that up now?"
"I am merely trying to subvert any possible conflict by addressing the issue."
"This is the opposite of that. You are creating conflict. This is a conflict you have created." Cloud huffs. "The best way to avoid it is to ignore it."
"I apologize." Sephiroth sounds stiff, huffy. Still, Cloud thinks it's better than the cold stilted tone from earlier.
Turning a little, Cloud looks over his shoulder at the man. All he can see are silver waves of hair, glistening with what little light there is. He's huge, even from this angle, broad shoulders and torso almost a mountain range in and of themselves.
"I can sleep outside."
"What – no," Flushing, Cloud flips back over. "You're fine. This is fine."
"Hm."
They stay silent for a while. Truly, it's not fine – Cloud's definitely feeling the attraction right now. It hasn't been this hard for him to will away a hard-on since he was in his teens. But laying down inches away from the man he first masturbated to, the man he's pretty sure is the most attractive person on the planet, is making it impossible to think of anything else.
"You did not tell anyone, did you?"
Cloud's eyes flicker towards the man. "… no." He knows what Sephiroth means. "I told them we were sparring. That I insisted on fighting with actual blades and it got out of hand."
"No one suspected?"
Cloud shakes his head. "Honestly, if not for the storm, our wounds wouldn't have looked that bad to them. We both heal pretty fast." That was the truth. Cloud had been shocked to realize that his healing rate was as good as the General's. He'd known he healed better than most people, but he hadn't expected that.
"You think Vincent knows something?"
He nods at little, before speaking. "He went to the reactor, before. And that was your sole focus when you freaked out. He definitely knows something about it."
"Hmm. I will have to speak to him of it."
"No, let me." Cloud flips onto his back, looking at the long, dark lines of the other man. "He'll be more open with me." It takes a while for the other man to reply. He remains stiff, unmoving – until finally Sephiroth slowly rolls over, lays on his back, looking up at the top of the tent.
"I have the feeling he does not like me." Sephiroth starts. "Or – no. He likes me, but… he does not… want me?" Frowning, the man turns confused eyes towards the blond. "I do not understand."
Cloud blinks. "I'm not sure I understand. What're you on about?"
"In Midgar, Vincent revealed himself to Shinra in order to protect my life." The man smirks at the thought, amused. "No one has ever attempted to protect me, before. Protection from me – of course. For me to protect them, yes. But never…"
"He cares about you." Cloud murmurs. Suddenly he's hyper aware of the fact that Vincent could be awake and possibly hearing everything they're saying. If that's a good or bad thing, he can't say.
"Yet he refuses to acknowledge the possibility of our relationship. He claims to care for me, but any hint towards shared blood between us upsets him."
Sighing, Cloud rolls onto his side, facing Sephiroth. "You have to understand, Vincent carries a lot of baggage. I don't know the whole story, but I know he blames himself for what happened to you and your mom. But as much as the guilt and blame he carries is overwhelming… if he accepts the idea that you could be his blood, that guilt triples. In his mind, he's even more guilty. It's the difference between failing to save a friend and her son, and failing to save his own son and the mother of his son."
For a moment the General is quiet. "What do you believe?"
"Hmm?"
"Of my parentage?"
Cloud clears his throat. "I think being a parent is about more than blood." He starts. "And… blood or not, Vincent cares about you."
Sephiroth turns his head, knowing eyes meeting Cloud's. He knows – he knows Cloud believes Vincent is his father. But Cloud can't bring himself to outright say it. Somehow… knowing Vincent could be listening, it feels like it would hurt him to do so.
"Give it time." He mouths carefully, not speaking. Sephiroth nods in acknowledgement.
They make good time the next day, finally nearing the end of the frigid mountains. By midday they're coming down the other side of Mt. Nibel, nearing the forests that line the other side of the range. Steep cliffs bar the way, and so before they can finally leave the snow behind, they must walk a ways along the mountain range, until the land opens up and they can move north, into the forest.
"Fun," Cloud mutters when he hears the plan.
"You can't complain," Zack insists, hiking his bag further up his shoulder. "You're used to this shit." He emphasizes by kicking the snow at his feet. "Gongaga never had snow."
"Gongaga?" Cloud sputters. "What kind of backwoods place is that?"
The black haired man smirks. "The same kind as Nibelheim."
Cloud can't help but grin at that. "Point taken." He says. "So you're a country boy?"
"Born and bred." He replies. A minute later he chuckles. "Did you guys ever have those 'GRITS' sayings? Like on tee shirts and bags and shit?"
"Oh my god, yes!" Cloud laughs. "It was 'Girl' or 'Guy', 'Raised in the Southern Continent', right?"
"Yeah, how corny, right?" The SOLDIER sputters. "I never even liked grits to begin with."
An overly dramatic gasp escapes the blond. "And you call yourself a country boy?" He shakes his head.
"They're icky."
"Nuh uh." Cloud insists. "Cover 'em in butter and syrup, they're great."
"I'm losing my appetite as we speak."
Further ahead of the two boys, Sephiroth mumbles, "That's a miracle," and Cloud laughs at the affronted look on Zack's face.
They keep trudging along, with Zack and Cloud at the rear, chatting up a storm. It's so… friendly, and warm. Cloud can't remember the last time he laughed so much. With Tifa, most likely, the only problem being that their friendship necessitated some discretion, since the mayor (her father) basically hated him.
Is that what this was? Friendship? Honest to gods, real friendship?
Cloud feels his stomach flutter a little.
"Look out!"
Blue-green eyes narrow and in an instant Cloud's hand is to the handle of his blade. It's his masterpiece, his work in progress, the First Tsurugi – somewhat altered and ready to fight again. And apparently, it's about to.
But first, Cloud and company are covered in a tidal wave of snow.
The beast comes from above with an almighty roar, and when it lands near them the impact sends snow flying twenty feet in the air. Cloud hisses and covers his eyes, and when he can see again, almost gets knocked over by a dragon's very angry tail swipe.
Only Zack's quick thinking knocks them both to the ground, and to safety. Already panting heavily, Cloud manages a breathless, "Thanks", as they both rush to stand again.
Sephiroth already has his blade out and is battling the creature; but this is one big, angry beast. Probably a mother protecting a nest, which they just had the unfortunate luck to come near. It wouldn't be that much of an issue, but for three reasons.
One; they can't run away. The dragon landed in the center of their little group, with Vincent, Sephiroth, and Aerith in front of the beast, and Tifa, Zack and Cloud stranded behind it. To the left of them rises Mt. Nibel, in all its impregnable glory, and on the right, a steep 200 ft drop to the forests below.
Two; On his own, Sephiroth could tear into the beast and kill it. But with six people, three of whom are civilians, it's a little harder. The dragon's every move endangers all of them.
"Get down!" Sephiroth screeches, and just in time Aerith falls to her knees. She's terrified; it's clear in her shaking eyes, locked knees and gritted teeth. But the girl is clenching her staff tight, and listening as best she can to whatever the General says. Vincent hovers near her, but his gaze rarely leaves Sephiroth.
Zack grits his teeth, moving to run past the dragon only for a back leg to reach out for him. Long claws come feet from tearing into his gut. "Don't Zack!" Sephiroth shouts. "Act defensively! Hold your position!"
It clearly kills the man to agree but he nods, fists clenching. With his own sword in hand, he backs up, an arm out in front of Tifa, encouraging her to back away.
"Let Seph deal with it," He tells them. "He's killed dozens of these assholes before."
"Yeah, but, -" Tifa stammers, fists raised. "You sure?" Her gaze keeps flitting to Aerith, and so is Cloud's – the blond is furious, heart racing, but he does as Sephiroth said.
The dragon is facing away from them, focused on who clearly represents the greater threat. Vincent and Sephiroth are taking the brunt of its anger. It's something Sephiroth had experienced before, giving his own level of power and the aura he gave off, he often drew more dangerous beasts out of hiding. Vincent, unknowingly, had the same problem on an even higher level – housing so many powerful demons called to other such beasts in the wild.
And caught between the three is Aerith.
She stays back, hovering in Vincent's shadow clinging to her staff. It's shaking in her grip; the woman's face is pale, bright eyes focused on the enraged, fanged countenance of the beast.
"Aerith!" Zack shouts at the top of his lungs. "Don't worry babe, it'll be okay!" He's making plenty of noise – but Cloud can't blame him. He's trying to draw the dragon's attention desperately but it simply does not care about them. But anytime they try to get around it, they end up getting pushed back, simply by the movements of the damn huge thing.
"Fuck, this sucks!" Tifa spits, glancing towards Cloud. "There has to be something we can do here."
Cloud hesitates, then his gaze drifts upwards. "Yeah," he starts. "Maybe."
"What're you thinking Spike?" Zack moves closer to him, eyes on the beast.
"Think you could give me a lift?"
Turning, the black haired SOLDIER eyes him up and down, gaze serious and thoughtful. Then he looks at the dragon again. "Yeah, I think I can do that." He and Tifa share a look, then she moves out of the way.
Zack steps back, falls to one knee, and puts his hands on his thigh. Cloud backs further away, aiming for the man, in a runner's pose. For a moment, he waits, hesitating, heart pounding wildly, sweaty hands clenching his blade. He revels in the feeling.
Then, he runs.
The man bolts at Zack, leaping onto his hands. Zack's ready for him – he grips the man's boot, then stands, pushing upward and flinging the blond towards the dragon. Cloud had almost worried about this plan, but the SOLDIER more than sends him far enough. He's practically flying, and can't help the whoop of joy and excitement that escapes him.
Before he comes down onto the creature's back, Cloud flips his blade, aiming to pierce its hide from above. It's not likely to be a horrible injury – dragon's backs are well protected – but it will serve as a distraction.
The blade hits home, and the dragon reels. A wild screech escapes it, so loud and deafening the blond winces, but he holds to his blade. Even as it flings itself madly around, he holds on. The others rush away – Tifa and Zack already out of range, the others catching on and turning to run.
The blade slips. Cloud's breath catches when he realizes, but it's too late – its no longer deep enough to keep him still, and he's flung free, flying through the air. He doesn't hit the ground; a familiar sturdy grip catches him midair, and Cloud looks up, smiling weakly.
"Thanks,"
"Please refrain from leaping upon dragons in the future," Vincent quips. "My heart can't take it."
"You don't even have a pulse, Vince."
"The point stands."
They land; Cloud leaps from his hold, lifting his sword again and facing the dragon. It's clearly pissed; but now, it only has eyes for the one that injured it. Sharp slitted eyes narrow in on Cloud, but the blonde is ready for it, and when the dragon charges, he fights back.
It's weird, having a "Sword" fight with a dragon. He's parrying and striking the creature's teeth, as those giant jaws attempt to close down around him. Sometimes the beast reaches to swipe at him with his front legs, long claws curling into his flesh, but that weakens its balance, and so it avoids it. But there is one thing it doesn't seem to be using.
"Hey," Cloud manages to glance back for just a second; he sees Vincent moving Aerith out of range, thankfully. "Why the hell isn't it breathing fire?"
"Who knows? I don't think any of us are dragon experts!" Zack says from the back.
"Hey," Tifa, beside him, kneels. "Help him out."
The man eyes her warily. "You think you can lift me?"
She smirks. "You really think I can't?"
A few moments later, Cloud is greeted with the sight of a SOLDIER barreling through the air towards him – which is a welcome sight given the circumstance. Zack doesn't land as nicely as Cloud had; there's some fumbling and cussing and a lot of snow flying around, but in no time he's on his feet and striking the side of the dragon's maw. It roars at him, before swiping at him with a clawed foot.
"Cloud!" The blond turns when he has the chance, to see Vincent approaching. "The lack of fire isn't a good sign – it means it may have laid eggs. This dragon may have used up its flame keeping its eggs warm, preparing for hatching."
"So?" Cloud shouts back between blows.
"Dragons don't lay eggs alone!"
Just as that thought occurs to Cloud, another roar rocks the mountain.
"Great," Zack mutters. "Daddy's home."
It is barely a thought – barely a consideration – before Vincent realizes it is what he has to do. He steels himself for it. Though it may hurt, though it may cause him agony beyond belief, the alternative is not permissible. That is what makes him do it, the few times he willingly has performed the change. Knowing that not doing so would be even more regrettable.
Vincent grits his teeth, clenches his fists – and lets Chaos reign.
The wings burst out of his shoulder blades, claws ripping out from beneath his cuticles. His body is destroyed and remade in a ruined, ugly visage. But it is electrified with power, energy flooding through him as he takes to the skies. Chaos roars, and the dragons suddenly take notice of the flare of energy, of the more powerful creature that has appeared.
He hears, distantly, the others speaking. Cloud's voice cries for him, and Vincent knows he would disapprove. But this is the only way. Vincent cannot die after all. It will just be very, very painful.
So Vincent takes to the skies, and when he is sure the dragons have taken after him, he flies – and flies, and flies, and flies, flies them far away, where the young ones he has taken to cannot be hurt anymore.
Another day, another chapter! Whew, this one was fun. You know this started as a one shot focused on Vincent and Cloud and it has just spiralled out of control. But I can't help but ask what would the lives of other characters be like in this AU? So, yeah, more of the team will be showing up eventually.
The GRITS thing is a Southern US joke. Grits is a type of food here, and its an acronym - "GIRL/GUY RAISED IN THE SOUTH". I just applied it to Zack and Cloud as the "Southern Continent", since the area they're supposed to be from is a lot like the Southern US, and especially the way I portray it.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Check out my tumblr if you want to see fan art of this story. My user name there is metal-x-chocobo-x.