The sun has long since set, but Cloud is still wide awake.

He's been pacing the ground in front of the fire for hours, unable to sit still. The ground has been worn down from it. Zack tried to pop a joke about digging a trench around the camp, but if anything, the tension had gotten worse instead of lessening.

Most of the night Zack is distracted, anyway. His girlfriend has been in her tent, gasping, crying. If he hadn't been so distracted himself, Cloud would've been much more concerned. At first, he'd thought it was just first time jitters… first time fighting a monster, first time seeing a dragon. But after a while, he doesn't think so. He can hear them talking, hear words like "the lab" and "Hojo". Somehow, he thinks this panic is about more than a little scare.

But he can't focus on it. His mind is laser focused, centered upon one thing. Cloud wants to leave. He wants nothing more to turn and run out into that forest, searching desperately for the first sign of Vincent.

The only reason he hasn't is sitting in front of the fire.

Sephiroth has been sitting still on the log for as long as the camp has been set up. Where Cloud hasn't stopped moving, he hasn't moved at all. It – frustrates Cloud. All he wants is to do something, and Sephiroth refuses to do anything at all.

Don't you care?

Gritting his teeth, Cloud doesn't say what's on his mind. It's not his place. This is all so much bigger than a handful of lives.

Or,… maybe that's exactly what it's about.

"I'm leaving." Cloud says for the tenth time – only this time, he means it.

"You aren't going anywhere." Sephiroth murmurs, not an order, just a statement, like he knows. That pisses Cloud off more.

"Says you." He spits. "I'm not Zack. I'm not one of your SOLDIERs."

"No you aren't." The General admits. "But you are a compassionate person who will do what is best for everyone involved."

"Is this what's best?" Red faced, Cloud strides into Sephiroth's space, standing right over him. He's taller than the man, for a moment, and it's surreal, almost a rush, looking down over him. Of course, it doesn't take long for the man to stand, a slow, steady unrolling of his body upwards, up, up, up… No fair.

Sephiroth merely quirks an eyebrow once he's stood.

"We should be looking for him." Cloud insists fiercely. "He could be hurt, or – or worse."

"It's highly unlikely." The taller man states, crossing his arms. "At your own description, you stated the man was nigh invincible."

"Yeah, but –" Scoffing, Cloud turns his head. "Just cause you can't die doesn't mean you can't suffer."

Silence fails, bitter and poignant. Sephiroth's mouth moves like his teeth are stuck together, and he's fighting to part them. "I know."

"Do you?"

"What's the racket?" The tent flap parts – Zack appears, looking somewhat haggard himself. Clearly he knows what's happening already. He's got superior hearing, just like they do. Once again he's trying to lighten the mood and Cloud doesn't appreciate it like he might usually.

"How long are we going to just wait?"

Zack's face falls; he and his superior share a look. Suspicion rises. "… we are going to look for him, aren't we?" Cloud turns from one, to the other. Neither are meeting his eyes.

"Cloud…" Sighing, Zack scratches the back of his head. "Your friend Vince is probably better off than any of us when it comes to survival. He's strong – real strong – you know that. And he's gonna head the same place we are – "

"You're leaving him out there." Realization hits him hard and he reels, stepping back. "You're going to fucking leave him –"

"He will be alright." Sephiroth steps in, turning to look at the blonde. "He is strong, he will heal and catch up to us. But every moment we waste looking for him is a moment Hojo can use to secure his bid for power."

"Waste?" Cloud scoffs, throwing up his arms. He misses Zack's wince behind Sephiroth. "Waste? Fuck you!"

"Cloud –" Sighing, Zack runs a hand down his face. "A lot of people will be hurt if Hojo takes over. It's the good of the many, you know?"

He's quiet for a minute. The camp is tense and silent, with Aerith sitting stock still in her tent, clearly hearing every word; and Tifa, who'd walked off for firewood, standing just outside of it, watching. Cloud gives a stiff laugh.

"You know," he starts softly. "I really thought you were different. Decent people. Unlike most of the shitheads in Shinra, people who – people that don't see others as people. They see them as numbers. As statistics. As resources or impediments or – things."

"Hojo, that's what he does. Sees 'em as things. That's what he did when he killed your father and used him as a pin cushion, and stole you from your mother before doin' hell knows what to her. He saw them as things to be used and discarded. And he didn't get in trouble because all of Shinra is like that." Swallowing dryly, Cloud steps away, frowning heavily. His eyes are burning, but dry, and he looks everywhere but Sephiroth's face. "I thought you were different."

Without another word, he turns and stalks off, storming into the forest. The sound of wood clattering to the ground follows. Before long Tifa is jogging to catch up.

"You don't have to come."

"You kiddin'?" Tifa scoffs. "You're the only reason I came in the first place."

That manages to bring a small smile to Cloud's face. They head north, looking for Vincent, trying to manage small talk and banter. And the whole time, Tifa doesn't once bring attention to the tears falling down Cloud's face.

Two hours later, they are lost in the woods, and Cloud is practically steaming. And all his frustration and fear hits its peak moment and suddenly deflates, leaving the exhausted man to slump onto the nearest log in defeat.

"I overreacted didn't I?"

"Yup," Tifa clicks her tongue. "A bit."

Sighing, Cloud drags a hand over his face. It doesn't fall away, until Tifa pulls it down. "You're worried about Vincent. I get it. Let's just keep looking for him, and worry about talking to your boyfriend later."

"He's not my boyfriend!" The blonde blushes bright and puffs up like a Chocobo with its feathers ruffled. "And I'm not worried. Not about him."

"Right." Sighing herself, the woman stalks forward. "Come on. This is northward. We've only got a few more miles until the northern end of the valley, Vincent has to be nearby."

Was he, though? Or had he kept flying? Could he possibly have continued, past the continent, towards the ocean? Could he have fallen then, sunken down into the deep, further and further out of reach…

"Hey." A hand on his arm drags him from his thoughts. "Come on. Time's wasting."

"Right," He swallows, nods, and follows her. He can't stop looking. Not until there's nowhere left to look.

"I have no reason to be worried."

"Uh huh." Zack, hands behind his head, glances away, out the corner of his eyes as he smiles. "Not at all."

"Not one bit." Aerith tags on, hands behind her back, grinning and unabashed at her teasing.

"That's why you've been tense and irritated since they left."

"This is my typical demeanor." Sephiroth insists, eyes narrowed. His only concern is finding the man in Rocket Town and stopping Hojo from gaining anymore power than he already has. The blonde swordsman was never his concern. He was a – curiosity, nothing more. An interesting anomaly. A… completely impossible human being. And now he was gone, quickly as he came, and that was simply that.

There was no reason to be upset by it.

"Pick up the pace. We should be in Rocket Town within the hour if we press ourselves." Cloud was never part of his mission Sephiroth tells himself, ignoring Zack's groaning behind him. Cloud is not his SOLDIER, as the man himself had said, and was not even part of Shinra. Just an ordinary civilian. A strange, Mako enhanced country boy who had gone out of his way to bring Sephiroth's birth father to Midgar in the slim chances they might meet.

… it just didn't make any sense.

What did the man stand to gain? What could he profit from? None of it fit. He had no interest in money or fame, needed no physical enhancements (as he seemed to already have them). Political power interested him not at all either. His only interests seemed to lay in his family, friends, and mechanical creations, as well as the trips he took out of town. More than likely, if he had not met Vincent, Cloud would have been happy never to leave the continent he was born on, let alone head to Midgar.

And yet, since he had done so, the man had put life and limb on the line for strangers. He had endeavored to be sure Vincent and Sephiroth met one another. He saved the life of a lab specimen, the one called Red XIII that most would have dismissed as a base animal. He'd accepted them into his home, offered to assist Sephiroth in researching his past, and then gone further to offer to help save Shinra from catastrophe. All without asking for anything in return.

… you're just like the rest of them.

It hurts. And he doesn't understand why. For many years, Sephiroth did not really comprehend or understand how one could feel pain without a physical injury. Now, he knows, as least logically, that pains of the heart exist. He still doesn't understand why he's hurting now. He knows he made the right choice. Perhaps not the most kind, or decent, but the one that would undoubtedly save the most lives.

He knows he was acting justly. So why does he care if Cloud believes the same thing?

"Seph, I think we're here."

The man blinks; the forest is gone, and instead they stand upon the end of a dirt road. Some length ahead of them is a guard tower, from which two uniformed men are coming towards them.

"Pretty organized for a little country town on the east continent." Zack mumbles curiously.

"State your – General Sephiroth!" His silver hair gives him away, as usual. The two break into salutes, which are trembling and not exactly done correctly. He doesn't bother pointing it out.

"As you were." He states simply. "I am here on official business searching for someone. Is there a leader in town I could speak to?"

They trip over themselves to accommodating him, stumbling into an explanation that their boss was away but would be back soon, and they could await his return in town.

Vincent has no idea what to think about the man who is Cloud Strife's father.

For the first hour after their meeting, he's convinced it's a mistake. This can't be the man. But after speaking to Cloud's mother and learning the man's real name, it has to be him – how many Cid Highwinds can there be? Yet, there are so many contradictions.

Cloud is the most demure and polite boy. Seeing him next to his mother, one might assume the shy and reserved personality had to have come from Dad. But the man is as much a firecracker as the woman. He's brash, loud, cusses like a sailor, and there's enough fumes coming from the vaporizer he's constantly smoking to choke an elephant.

He's blunt, too. No pussyfooting or tiptoeing around. Cloud will hem and haw over something for half an hour before you can pull it out of him; he'll brood and dwell on things for days before speaking to anyone of them. But it's clear that the moment a thought enters this man's mind, it's out of his mouth.

"You lost? Lose your way leavin' the S&M bar, or what?" The man had asked, halfway into their trip to Rocket Town.

Vincent blinked. "What is that?"

"You know." The man mimed the sound and movement of a whip. "Sadomasochism, that shit. Getting off on beating people up. With all your leather and belts and shit."

Vincent all but sees red. "This suit was sealed onto my corpse with magic without my consent."

"Damn." Cid whistles, turning to puff on the vaporizer. But it's a brief window of silence. "… your corpse?"

He's as subtle and thoughtful as a boulder. Cloud is perceptive; he knows when to avoid subjects, and when to address them. Cid tramples over sensitive subjects while hardly noticing what he's doing. He's the proverbial bull in the china shop, and when he's done tossing his horns around and breaking all the glass, he has the gall to ask why everyone's blaming him for broken china.

"Hell, how was I supposed to know you're the walking ad for PTSD?" The man shrugs. "Sorry. Damn. Just talkin'."

And he would not. Stop. Talking. Cloud was so quiet, so purposeful, speaking when he had something to say. Or when he was excited about something, about his ideas, his creations.

In fact, all the qualities of Cloud, his demeanor, his personality, so much of it… Vincent halts, eyes widening in stunned silence. In many ways… it could be said that Cloud takes after him.

After Vincent.

But… they aren't related, of course. Vincent's only been part of his life for the last six years or so. Surely… he can't have had much of an impact at all. It's a silly thought. Vincent brushes it aside and ignores the inconvenient and surprising amount of disappointment that follows.

They eventually make it to Rocket Town, a strange conglomeration of modern technology and quaint small town life. Farm houses and dirt roads run between high end research labs and expensive equipment. The town is centered on the rocket pad, currently empty – apparently the most recent one had been shot off into space the month before.

"Had a couple of animals in it." Cid explains as they approach the landing pad. "Fer research purposes. They'll come back all safe and sound, don't worry, we've heard enough about that shit."

He takes Vincent on an impromptu tour, walking through the various buildings. For a moment, Vincent thinks to wonder if this is a bad idea. If being in sterile research environments won't upset him, or force the recall of things best left alone. But only a few steps inside the man can already see he'll be fine.

It's a totally different atmosphere. Everything is so – warm. The offices are open and spacious, rather than pulled tight into cubicles. There are couches and recliners near desks, scientists walk around in jeans and tee shirts, many lacking even the stereotypical jacket. There's… laughter. Everyone is so upbeat. A few of the folks Cid greets as they pass even cuss back at their ornery boss.

"I want those fuckin' spreadsheets, asshole!"

"You'll get 'em when I'm fuckin' finished!" The man replies, to which Vincent's eyebrows shoot up. "Get off my ass!"

"I'll get off your ass when I see it workin'!" Is Cid's response, and yet there's no real vitriol in the words. Vincent can see it.

These people like Cid Highwind.

And watching him, Vincent can see… he can see the resemblance. Perhaps not in the brass attitude or the crass demeanor, but there's a glint in his eye… a spark that flares whenever the man speaks of his work. It takes Vincent back to the Strife household, to watching Cloud kneeling in the garage, covered in grease, working to fix a motorbike he still couldn't get to work quite right.

"It went twelve feet this time." The blond had insisted with a grin, ignoring the fact that the bike had sputtered, died, and the back of it had even exploded. "Twelve feet."

"This one," Cid says, pointing at some device his team has been working on – Vincent hasn't really been paying attention – "This one went two and a half miles 'fore it crash landed. Two and a half miles. Further than anything on the damn record." He grins, beaming.

Vincent sees the resemblance.

God damn. But the man's pricklier than a porcupine covered in gumballs.*

Here he was, helping out a random stranger, trying to make nice and have some small talk, and the guy acted like every question was a damn interrogation. The hell did Cid care what the man dressed like? More power to him. Didn't have to bite his damn head off.

The man's quiet as the grave – ironic – and cold to boot. Like a corpse almost. Rarely speaks, just stands there all quiet and dull looking, zombie like if not for those bright red fluorescent eyes. They're damn creepy, but in the way that a good horror movie is creepy, like you want to see more even though it gives you the shivers.

Cid would love to pull this guy into a lab and run a few tests. He's pretty sure he'd be gutted for even suggesting the idea. Vincent made it clear early on that he's had a rough life and would rather no one touch him or talk to him or apparently be alive within his general vicinity. Cid's trying his best, but the hell is he supposed to do? Walk around all quiet and creepy like the dead guy?

It's not in him. He has to talk, he has to interact with other people. It's how you know you're alive. So he does his best to keep from pissing the guy off while walking around town, trying to figure out how to gently approach the topic of what the guy is doing here.

"So," Taking a puff from the vaporizer, Cid asks, "What the hell're you doin' round here?" Not… exactly subtle. Fuck. Well, he tried.

"Actually," The man's eyes flicker, and he turns his head. "I was looking for you."

That's not ominous. Cid feels another creepy shiver. "… don't drink my blood." He says quickly, his free hand rising to his neck. "I'll kick your ass, handsome dead guy or no."

"I – what? No," Amazingly, the dead guy can blush. "I'm not – ugh." Sighing in disgust, he puts a hand to his temple. "I am here on official business, with some others who I was separated from in the forest. On behalf of –" He hesitates, the word stuck in his throat like a bad taste. "Shinra."

Cid's stomach drops. "Oh hell no."

Vincent manages his first smile. "My sentiments exactly."

Sephiroth, Zack, and Aerith are led into a small room where the Captain sits, surprisingly, drinking tea with Vincent. Father and son stare in shock at one another, one approaching the table as the other stands.

"You arrived more quickly than I anticipated." Sephiroth manages, still blinking heavily. He'd been sure Vincent would recover and follow after them, but had imagined days inbetween… how strong was this man?

"Where is Cloud?" Ruby eyes flare as the man looks over the group. "Cloud and Tifa, where are they?"

"They, uh," Hemming and hawing, Zack scratches at his cheek. "They went looking for you."

"Cloud didn't want to wait." Aerith steps in. "He's in the forest, somewhere."

A sudden growl interrupts, something feral and surreal, echoing in the large white chamber. "The hell?" The Captain reels, eyes darting around before landing on the brunette. "That was you?"

"I will return." His voice, deepened by anger and perhaps even fear, rumbles deep. Cid manages a whistle at that, watching wide eyed as Vincent stalks from the room.

"Holy shit," The man says, sounding impressed.

Sephiroth stares at the empty vacuum before him. Hands clenched at his side, he hesitates to speak, feeling as if he has somehow failed already. Cid stands before him, and has not even heard Shinra's offer, yet he feels as if he failed…

This does not matter. Think of the mission.

Focusing, Sephiroth forces himself to lift his gaze – only to find the Captain's chair is empty. Surprised, he spins round, to see the blonde following after Vincent.

"Hold onto yer britches," The man says, hesitating in the doorway. "Like hell I'm missin' this!" Then he's gone, darting done the hall, and Sephiroth slumps in defeat.

"Hey…" Zack's hand rests on his shoulder. "Don't worry so much. Everything worked out! Vincent will find Cloud and Tifa, then we'll convince Cid to come with us, and stop Hojo once and for all!"

"Perhaps." Stepping away, Sephiroth approaches the nearest window. The last thing he wants is to be touched right now. He wants… he wants…

He wants to see that look in Vincent's eye. That rage, that fury, that fear – that protective gaze, which once before he caught a glimpse of, in Midgar. Wants to see it flare in Vincent's eyes for him. The desire to protect him. A foolish, childish notion… yet it overwhelms him. The man cared so much for Cloud, the boy with no father. Or perhaps… he did have one. And perhaps Vincent had a son, already.

And perhaps Sephiroth was not needed or wanted here, anymore.

Two hours. Two hours since they'd wandered off and apparently discovered every damn monster in the region.

"Duck!" Cloud yells, swiping his blade through the body of one, as Tifa leaps above it. "That wasn't ducking!"

"Same principle, still works!" She grabs a tree branch, uses it to redirect her momentum, and aims a kick at another lizard looking creature nearby.

There are dozens of them. And they keep coming. No matter where they move, the beasts follow them, and despite being rather weak creatures they are beginning to wear the duo down.

"Come on!" Cloud waves her over towards an opening, and they both barrel for it. The boy's mind is racing as they run.

He'd known, of course, that to some extent their journey was made easier by the larger group. And part of that was simply being with Vincent and Sephiroth – that both men put off some kind of aura, a feeling, of darkness and danger which put most monsters off. Vincent leaving had put a small dent in that aura, but Sephiroth still was obviously scary enough.

Without him? Cloud gawks at the crowds chasing after them. Sephiroth was that strong? They'd gone from barely being bothered to being at all-out war.

Was this what Sephiroth meant by protecting the group?

"Down!" A hand shoves his back and he falls with an oomph. Overhead something whizzes by, buzzing incessantly. Cloud's stomach twists into knots.

"Why bugs?" He groans, rushing to his feet.

"You big baby," Tifa smiles a little, but it's weak. She's tiring too.

A sudden shock hits him, curling his gut tighter as Cloud pales. He swings at the creature, hitting it but not quite as well as he could have. He's shaken. He's realizing – he's made a mistake. Because if this is what it's like with just the two of them, with no idea where they're going, running on empty –

They could die.

Blue eyes flash to his friend, wide and horrified. Tifa could die.

Because of him.

Howling, Cloud leaps back into the fray – determined, distraught, furious at himself. This is what Sephiroth had meant. Isn't it? But if Sephiroth had just come with him – if he hadn't abandoned them – but it wasn't his mission, was it? He had his own responsibilities, and Vincent wasn't one of them. But could he really abandon his father? Did he… did he…

"Cloud!"

His mind is reeling and distracted – he spins, wide eyes catching sight of the monster facing him, the spell already cast which is spiraling towards him – and the shadow which descends from the sky, protective, overwhelming, between him and the threat.

A shadow that stands brilliant red.

"Vincent!"

It's an hour before they return.

Sephiroth stands at the window the whole time. In a small courtyard, the original Highwind rocket stands outside, tilted, stretching towards a sky it will never reach. He's asked the scientists – this one rocket won't ever be flight worthy. Some damage inside destroyed invaluable equipment. The Captain insisted upon keeping it there, as a reminder, a warning of what could go wrong. Then they went on building other rockets.

A scientific failure, left to rot. Sephiroth feels a sharp painful kinship with it. There are days he feels like a failure… whatever Hojo says. A failure to be completely human. To pass as normal. To be…

The door to the office opens.

In walks the Captain, and following close behind is Zack, Aerith, Cloud, Tifa, and… no one else.

A strange stuttering takes his heart. Before he can stop himself, Sephiroth steps forward. "Where is – Mr. Valentine?"

His gaze shifts to Cloud. The blond is avoiding his gaze; there's blood on him, and the signs of recently healed wounds are clear on him. It's then that Sephiroth realizes there's a strange red mark on him… another wound?

In another moment it becomes clear it's not.

It's been a long time since Cid's been this damn entertained.

He's barely stopped chuckling the whole walk back – but this? This shit takes the cake. Because currently two grown men are being given a severe talkin' to like they're still twelve year old brats, and the one doing the talkin' is five inches tall.

"You should never have allowed him to leave by himself!" Vincent squeaks, storming across the tabletop like a tiny hurricane of red and black. "And you!" He spins on Cloud. "should not have left!"

A mini spell. Cid hides his chuckling behind one hand, curling into himself in amusement. A spell that couldn't have been cast on anyone better.

"I was just – " Cloud, attempting to explain, is interrupted when Vincent suddenly leaps into the air. The boy startles, shifting back, but Vincent grabs his collar and lifts himself up, a tiny furious fairy glowering at him.

"You weren't thinking." The tiny man's face softens somewhat. "I am fine. It is not me you should be worrying about. You do not have experience fighting by yourself this far north, or taking care of so many people in a group. Sephiroth does. You should have heeded his advice."

The small man flashes over to a broad silver pauldron, balancing on top, as Sephiroth blinks in surprise. "And you should have realized that, as an untrained civilian with an emotional attachment, Cloud would not be thinking clearly."

It's too much. Cid has to turn around, biting his lip to keep from laughing outright. What a trip! This whole day has been a damn roller coaster and Cid's loving it. Whoever these people are, they're fucking fun. Whatever their deal is, well… Cid figures he can lend them a hand.

Clearly, he thinks, risking one more glance to look back at the tiny furious man with the two embarrassed young men before bursting into more laughter, it'll be worth it.

*The "gumballs" being referenced here are not the edible, chewable gum, but a kind of seed or acorn that's really really spiky and round. It's a regional thing so I didn't know how many people would know about them, so figured I'd explain it.