Here ya go, two chapters for the price of one. Figured y'all deserved it after a month long hiatus. There might be another chapter with some art later tonight but we'll see.

"Momma," Little twelve year old Cloud Strife sits beside his mother, reclining on the ground in a field of grass. It's a rare warm time in Nibelheim, the moment's rest before the plunge into winter. They're outside the town, near the mountains, his mother's sword at their side, covered in monster's blood.

"Hmm?" His mother, arms behind her head, rests with her eyes closed. He sits as she does, hands on his stomach, eyes open wide.

"Where'd my name come from?"

Jean's eyes open, she points skyward. "Where'd ya think?"

A childish frown comes over his face and he shoves her shoulder. "I know that," He insists, huffing. "I mean why? It's really weird."

"You had an uncle named Cornflower. My parents were damned hippies."

The boy's face, still cute and pudgy with baby fat, takes on a determined frown which makes his mother smile fondly. She sits up.

"I named you for your dad."

Blinking, Cloud sits up after her. "His name was Cloud?"

"Well, no," She scratches her head, sighing. "I dunno. He loved the sky. I thought about naming you Skye, if you were a girl. A boy named Skye's just asking for an ass whupping."

"Like Cloud isn't," The boy huffs. Smiling, Jean wraps an arm around his neck and drags him in for a hug.

"Your father was a scientist, working in aerospace. Fancy name for a pilot. Flyin' was his first love."

"Were you his second?" Cloud asks, innocently, childishly, with all the wonder that comes from not really understanding what that kind of love means. She smiles, hugs him tighter.

"Clouds are part of the sky, part of what he loves so much. So that's what you're named for. Your father's greatest passion, his greatest wish. What he wanted most in the world." She pulls him into her lap, arms and legs wrapped around him, warm and comforting. He stares up at the sky, wondering, bright blue eyes the same color.

"I wanted you to have a part of your pa with you." She says after a moment. "I know you never knew him, and he's not really part of our lives… but he's part of our history. So we should remember him."

Cloud nods, eyes back on the sky.

It's well after midnight when Cloud hears clanging and banging down the hall.

He's been wandering for the better part of an hour. Restless, unable to sleep. He rarely sleeps well in new places; if its not his house or the outdoors, he gets antsy. Nervous. Not to mention, after the day he's had, he's far too keyed up to rest…

Sighing, Cloud runs a hand through his hair. He'd never meant to cause so much trouble. Never meant to risk his own life or Tifa's, or cause Vincent to worry. He just… couldn't imagine leaving Vincent on his own like that. Yes, he knew the man could take care of himself, he knew he'd be fine, but that didn't mean he should be left behind. He saved their lives fighting those dragons for them, and they'd just… left him to rot.

He gets it. He sees the reasoning, the logic. And he sees that he acted like a rash idiot. Still,… he's not sure he could have done anything else.

Besides… seeing Vincent shrunk was kinda worth it. The blonde snorts, tucking his hands in his pockets.

So he's wandering, and he hears the noise, and to his surprise turns a corner and finds a light on at the end of the hall. Another room with the door partially open, light filtering out. BANG. A loud series of cusses follows after, and Cloud recognizes the voice.

Curious, he approaches the door. It leads to a large hangar, full of machinery of all kinds. Most of the lights are dim, save for one corner where a single man is laying prone beneath the machine. No one else is there, no one else is working.

"Damn… stupid piece of shit…" Cid Highwind grunts, a screw held between his teeth, both arms elbow deep in the equipment above him. He's covered in sweat and oil. Something pings and drops, the tell-tale sound of metal bouncing off of concrete.

Cloud's over at the man's side before he's thought it through. "Need a hand?"

THUD. "Fucking – the hell kid!?" The man slides out from beneath the machine, grimacing and rubbing his head. "Give a man some warning next time."

"Sorry," Cloud winces, sheepish.

"You even know anything 'bout this shit?"

He kneels, taking hold of the wrench the man dropped. "Not a lot about planes, no," He starts, "But I'm pretty sure all you're doing is replacing that cracked manifold, and that I can help with." He gestures at the piece Cid is fiddling with, a long metal layer beneath and inside the plane, along the engine.

Cid blinks. "Huh," He reaches out for the wrench, Cloud hands it to him. "You a engineer?"

The younger flushes. "Uh, mechanic. Sort've. I build things." It sounds stupid out loud, he realizes, flushing heavily. "I mean… I'm not… really."

This man, Cid Highwind, this man's a legend. Built Shinra's Aerospace division from the ground up, and after it was defunded, he left and started his own company. Highwind Aerospace owns all the airships in the world, is the only distributor and manufacturer of flight vehicles for the general public, and has the monopoly not just on flight, but space as well. They've had three successful spaceflights already.

And next to him, Cloud is nothing. He's never even been to school, besides Nibelheim Public, never studied engineering, never had the money. All he's learned, he's taught himself from decades old textbooks and the scraps he gets around town.

He's… nothing.

"Whaddya build?"

"Huh?" The man turns, eyes still downcast.

"Fuckin' deaf?" Cid chuckles, shaking his head. "What do you build? Pass that here." He gestures to a smaller wrench.

Cloud passes it along. "Uh… whatever I guess. Um… weapons, bracers, machinery ,… uh, workin' on a bike for a while…" It all sounds so juvenile, so stupid. This man built the first spacecraft to actually fly into space.

"Huh." Cid keeps working for a minute, clearly paying more attention to his work. "Taught yerself?"

"Yeah," Cloud shrugs, gently resting his back against the ship. "I read a lot. Um. Basically – I guess I just kept trying and failing."

That brings a laugh from beneath the plane, and Cloud flushes scarlet, ashamed – until the man slides out and grins at him.

"Sorry, just," He waves it off. "How I started out, too. Building shit and hopin' it don't blow up, fall apart, -"

"And it always ends up blowing up and falling apart with you on it?" A twitch of Cloud's lips imitates a smile. It becomes one when Cid grins back at him.

"More times than I can count." He says as he stands. "First ship I ever built, flew a few dozen feet before it both crashed and blew up." Cloud can't help but laugh, and he's not sure why. He's giddy, excited, happy. This man is a scientific legend and they're chatting like they're friends.

"A lot of my weapons did that whenever I tried fitting them with materia. My mom started making me carry a Water materia everywhere so I could put the fires out." He chuckles, face warm as Cid bursts into laughter.

"Hell, kid." The cheer dies down, and Cid crosses his arms. "Sounds like you got some talent."

Cloud flushes deeper. "I – I just tinker."

"Hmm." He kneels, fiddling with something. "Ever think of doin' something with it?"

Cloud blinks. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." Cid grunts. There's a pause as some grime and oil spew out of some hole, and the man cusses and deals with it. Cloud sees now why he wears goggles. "What're your plans?"

Cloud… doesn't have plans. Well, he does. General plans: take care of his mom, help Vincent, finish his bike. He doesn't have – life plans. And he certainly never aspired to anything greater than being the town weirdo after he stopped aiming for Shinra and SOLDIER.

"I – don't." He manages, glancing away. "Have plans, I mean."

There's more fiddling and noise behind him. After a minute, he hears the man stand again, moving into his line of sight, and Cloud forces himself to meet his gaze.

The man's smiling warmly, kindly, if a bit gruff and dirty given the mess and his demeanor. "We'll have to work somethin' out," He mumbles, looking Cloud over. "Take a look at that bike of yers, huh?"

Cloud flushes to his ears. "S – Sure, sounds great!" His enthusiasm is clear and it makes Cid chuckle, patting his shoulder hard enough the boy shakes.

Vincent can't help but smile at the scene.

He's in the rafters, high above the others. It's been hours since they returned, and the Mini spell had long worn off. It had been a matter of simply using Materia to reverse the spell, but the man is rather certain that Highwind was slow to produce the needed Materia on purpose.

The man is a strange factor in all of this. So unlike what Vincent expected, and yet… the more he observes him, the more it makes sense. Pieces slot into place as if they'd always meant to be there. Cid Highwind is a curiosity, and so long into the night, Vincent remains in the hangar, watching him.

It's not as if he can do much else. Vincent sleeps rarely, and never outside the safety of the Mansion (an ironic thought, Vincent thinks with a frown). He just – can't. But his typical anxiety he's found has dimmed somewhat, in this atmosphere. The hangar is familiar. Smells and sounds like the garage at the Strife's house. And once Cloud arrives, his familiar presence is even more calming. Vincent feels better than he has in days.

He rests above them, listening to the two talk early into the morning. He wonders if Cloud suspects – if he knows. There's no way Cid could know, not without knowing Cloud's mother's name. From there, it would be easy to see. He wonders how the man would react…

A bit of trepidation crawls up his throat.

"So, then the idiot," The object of his thoughts is below, telling a story in between chuckles. He and Cloud are both sitting facing one another, red faced from laughter. "This idiot tries –" Vincent understands nothing of what comes out of his mouth next, the technical jargon above him, but it has Cloud and Cid laughing uproariously.

They seem to be getting on well. It does nothing to ease Vincent's jitters.

He remains, laying prone on the rafters, cape curled around him. He's not really listening to their words or conversation, merely hearing their voices and allowing them to lull him into a sense of peace. It's as close to sleep as he can get.

Then he hears his name.

"Vincent?" Cloud says, sounding curious. "He's a family friend."

"Come on kid, there's gotta be more to the story than that," Cid snorts. "Tall, dark, and grumpy said as much himself – somethin' about corpses and magic spells and being a half dead demon?"

The younger blonde sighs after a moment. "Well… it's not really for me to say."

"Surely you can say something."

"Why do you want to know so bad?"

"Are you kidding?" Cid laughs, and Vincent hears him stand and pace. "The man is – damn. I've never seen anything so incredible." Vincent feels his stomach twisting into knots. The echoing void in his chest where his heart should be aches, as if it might be pounding if it still worked. "Have you seen his other form? He has wings! Wings! And the frickin' weight transfer – the enormous strain of that change, how does he do it? He's a miracle!"

"He's suffered a lot." Cloud says quietly. "Scientists spent a long time trying to make him into that 'miracle'."

"… I'm guessin' he didn't exactly sign up for it."

"No."

"Shinra?" Cloud doesn't say anything, but Cid curses and sits back down. "Damn. Should've known. Fuckin' bastards."

"Please, don't say all this stuff to him. I know you might be curious and I get it but –"

"No, fuck, count me out." The elder waves him off. "I know when to pry. Damn shame. Man's a brilliant creature. Whatever he is. But I ain't gonna go poking at scars just to calm my curiosity."

"… thank you."

"But, naw, I wasn't really asking for that either." The man pulls out his vaporizer. "I wanted to know about him. The man, y'know? You known him how long?"

"About six years."

"What's he like?"

"Why're you so curious?"

"I told ya already, damn!" Cid snorts. "He's a miracle. Miracle of science, of life. Tell ya, I have no idea what he's gone through but it was clearly the wringer, and he's still here. Fuck Shinra. A man like that though, it's – can ya blame me?" He shrugs. "I wanna know him. Know about him. He's damn cute to boot."

"I am going to pretend I heard none of that." Cloud shakes his head covering his eyes. "Oh my god you have a thing for Vincent."

"Hell yeah." Cid chuckles, shoving him. "Grown men have needs, ya know?"

"God, gross!"

"Jeez, kid, come on, I'm not that old." Vincent, having turned his head, sees Cloud eying him as if in doubt, and Cid shoves him again. The younger laughs.

The tightness in Vincent's chest starts to lighten.

"Well, are we all here?"

Sephiroth does not need to look around to know that all the necessary people are present. "Let us proceed." He says, stepping forward. He stands at the head of a long conference table, around which his group is gathered, along with Captain Cid and a handful of the mans' associates.

"Alright then," The Captain, at the opposite side, crosses his arms and leans back. "The fuck is this about?"

"What our President means is," The woman named Shera leans forward, sitting beside him. "We would like to know about this – offer from the Shinra Corperation."

"It's not exactly from Shinra," Zack interjects, glancing at Sephiroth to see if it's alright for him to speak. The silverette nods. "More like, people within Shinra."

"Aye, lad!" A voice echoes out from the vent above them, a surreal and sudden sound. And that's when the meeting gets weird.

A second later, everyone gathered reacts as one with shock and confusion. The vent falls, and from it comes a short black and white cat, standing on its hind legs.

"Hullo!" The thing waves, one hand on its hips. "Been a while eh Highwind?"

"Oh, god," The Captain groans, head falling back. "Meeting over. Fuck this shithead."

"Wait, wait!" The cat bolts across the table, stopped by no one because everyone is still staring, jaws dropped, at the talking cat from out of nowhere. "Cid, listen! It's important!"

"What the hell is going on?" Cloud, half standing, speaks the words on everyone's minds.

Cid eventually sighs. Gesturing to the cat, he says, "Meet Reeve Tuesti, Former Director of Robotics, current City Planner for Midgar."

"Hullo!" The cat spins around, waving and bowing again.

"That's… a person?" Zack stares, leaning forward, trying to look at it better.

"It's cute," Tifa mumbles, still standing further away, but clearly fighting the urge to walk up and pet it.

Aerith has no such compulsion. She reaches out, a hand hovering over its head, and the cat leans up into it with a very realistic purr. The girl grins as she pets it.

"Alright, enough," Sephiroth sighs, waving his arms. "Reeve, what is this?"

"Sorry, sorry," He steps towards the other. "I couldn't come in person, obviously, but I wanted to be here. Things aren't lookin' good back home." The cat slumps. "The company's in chaos. The Turks are trying to hold it together, but Hojo keeps cutting Tseng's knees out from under him. He's pullin' every bylaw and clause in the Company constitution tryin' to make Tseng hand over the company, and there's only so long we can delay."

"Hojo?" Cid sits up, frowning. "The fuck happened to Rufus?"

The group quickly catches the man up, and the more they speak, the more he frowns. "Fuckin' hell," The man grunts. "I rarely met the guy when I was with Shinra, and I still hated him. Fuck him. Man needs a kick in the ass."

"My thoughts exactly." Reeve's robot nods. "Whatever he's after cannae be good!"

"We came to ask you to step into the running." Sephiroth says, meeting Cid's gaze. "You are the best opponent to stand against him."

"Why the hell isn't Reeve doing it?" Cid asks.

"My role in the company has shrunk to nuthin!" The cat sighs, head hanging low. "First I lost my division, then I lost my chair seat, now I'm practically Midgar's honorary mayor, and nothing else!"

"They've been taking his power from him." Sephiroth noticed long ago that Reeve Tuesti was not Shinra's favorite scientist. Hojo gained more traction, as Reeve was pushed further and further out. "He is not in good enough standing to make a strong bid for the presidency."

"And I am?" The man snorts.

"You've already been the President of a company." To Sephiroth's surprise, it's Shera who speaks. "You worked for Shinra, and were the Department head of what was a large section of the Company, and it did well under your command. As a scientist, you can claim the same type of expertise as Hojo."

"Fuck I can." He snorts. "Hojo's a biologist, I work with machines."

"And you make sure those machines won't kill people," Shera insists. "Your knowledge of biological sciences is enough to be passable for the laypeople."

"It's the best plan we have." Zack insists with a sigh. Sephiroth nods, affirming.

It's true. Without Cid, they don't have an alternative. Rufus isn't safe, and whatever they think of the man, he can't be President if he's dead; and Reeve barely stands a chance – without outright waging war on the man, Hojo has Shinra in his hands.

It's clear by the look on the mans' face that Cid knows it.

"Fuuuuuck."

"It's a temporary assignment." Sephiroth tells him. "Once we've ensured that the heir is safe and the insurgents are taken care of, Rufus will step in."

"Uh huh." The man sighs, dragging a hand down his face. "And I have a fuckin' choice in this?"

"Yes."

For the first time, Vincent speaks to the group. Almost as if he's stepping from the shadows, appearing at Sephiroth's shoulder. The silverette is brutally aware of the man's presence, drawn like a magnet, and tries not to show it.

"We will not force you to do anything." Vincent insists, eyes flaring. "You have my word."

Cid eyes him, before nodding. Then gives a sigh.

"Alright," The man stands. "Much as I hate to say it… looks like I'm headin' back to Shinra." The words put a grimace on his face. "Aw, fuck."

"There's somethin' else." The cat says again, spinning to address Sephiroth again. "We have a new mission for you."

Sephiroth's eyebrow quirks. "I don't recall being under your command."

"If ye wanna stop Hojo, you'll take my advice!" The cat insists, hands on its hips. "We've tracked some of the insurgents who attacked in Midgar. They're near Cosmo Canyon, and Shinra has military officers after them."

"Then why're you bothering us with it?" Zack asks, eyebrow quirked.

"Hojo's pullin' their strings!" The cat says. Hopping up and down energetically, he says, "They've got orders to kill on sight. And we've gotten some hints round town, too – it's lookin' like an inside job, it is."

"The assassination?" Sephiroth shifts, stunned, mind racing. "Hmm…"

"Aye," The cat says. "These folks might have information we need – especially if Hojo dinnae want anyone to know about it! We cannae let them be killed!"

After a moment, Sephiroth nods. "We'll intercept before rerouting for Midgar." He says, and the cat nods at that.

"Also…" It twiddles its thumbs. "If ye don't mind… could ye give me a ride back home?" The cat chuckles nervously.

Sephiroth's eyebrow twitches.

It's as they're packing to leave that Cid finds out.

It's all an accident, really. A fluke. After everything had been hashed out, Cid had directed them all to board the Highwind, his state of the art airship. It had been nice to see some nice faces marvel at his baby, though they didn't really have time for a tour.

Best of all had been Cloud's face – the fellow greasemonkey appreciating her for all she was worth. "Captain, this is – amazing." The awe and wonder in his voice hit Cid hard in the chest, a sudden feeling of fondness for the boy.

"Course she is," He grins. "I made her. Best thing I ever made."

They're packing to leave, getting everything on board, when Cid stumbles upon the bag. A black backpack, on the floor of the hangar. "Hey," he calls out. "The fuck this belong to?" Nobody answers; he figures it has to be one of the newcomers. The thought that maybe it belongs to Vincent peaks his interest, so he decides to take a quite peek. Just a peek.

He shifts through it, finding books and materia, journals and pens. It's quickly clear this is not Vincent's, unless he fiddles with machinery in his spare time too. No, this is Cloud's, and Cid is – really impressed. The work and detail is so clear in even the most unfinished sketches. He flips through the notebook, admiring the kid's thought process, seeing the potential there – sure it's rough, and unlearned, but its' brilliant stuff.

He goes to stuff it all back in and pack it onto the ship, when something catches his eye. A photograph in the bag. Pulling it out, he notices a younger Cloud, perhaps twelve, posing with an older woman who must be his mother. His mother…

Holy shit.

Cid's knees go a little weak. It's – holy shit. It's Jean. A much older Jean but there's nobody else it could be. She practically looks the same, but for a few extra wrinkles and scars here and there. She's smiling, in her own way, reserved and serious, a protective hand on her son's head. Her son.

Holy shit.

He stuffs everything into the bag, and storms onto the ship in a daze.

They're waiting for him on deck. General Sephiroth, his team, and Cid's lieutenant on board. Shera's in town, taking over in his absence. Cid barely hears his 2nd in command's words as he storms forward, shoving the bag at Cloud. As soon as the younger blonde takes the bag, Cid reaches up and snags some of the hair from his head.

"Ow – what the shit?" The man blinks, grabbing at his head. "What was that for?"

"For – science," Cid manages, storming away. He approaches an aide and steps in close, quietly.

"I want a paternity test done immediately," He says handing the sample over.

"Sir?" The man blinks.

"Test it against my blood. It's on file," He says, and the aide's eyes go wide with realization.

"But…" Then, he blinks, glancing around. "I don't know if we even have the proper equipment."

"The ships full of fucking equipment, slap something together." He insists, before forcing himself to walk to the helm. He shouts instructions and directions, feels the ship roar and shift beneath him, taking to the skies. Usually, he'd be enjoying himself.

Right now? He can barely think straight. They take to the skies and Cid sighs, turning around to rest against the controls. He feels eyes on him, and looks up. Ruby red meet sky blue, and he realizes.

Vincent knows.

Sephiroth notices something going on with the Captain on the bridge, but he can't really pay attention to it. He's distracted – has been for a while. It's unprofessional and foolish but he can't help it, he hasn't been this foggy and off his game in a while.

He's not sure why, either. Sure there are many possible reasons, but he isn't thinking clearly enough to pinpoint it, unable to rationalize his thoughts and actions. Sighing, he leaves the bridge without a word, ignoring Zack's concerned gaze.

This whole mission has been a disaster. He wants to regret it, but can't quite make himself feel that way. It's been – fascinating. It's been… good.

He halts in the middle of the hallway, hands clasping for nothing, restless, on edge.

Vincent Valentine is his father. A man who may never acknowledge or want him. Hojo raised him – a monster who never cared for him, who saw him as a weapon, a thing. He has been raised as such – and is unsure he can be anything else.

Sephiroth knows how to kill, how to strategize, how to lead and destroy. He can't… befriend others, he can't relax around them, the way Zack always has. The one person he can count as a confidante spends most of the time trying to understand him, and Sephiroth constantly causes problems between them.

It would be easier without anyone.

Sephiroth's limbs are trembling, though it's so subtle few would notice. He lowers his head, eyes hidden behind his bangs. This is… awful. Feeling so torn. Wanting something while at the same time wanting to not want it. It would be easier not to want it. Yet it aches so badly, it hurts…

The hurting… can stop…

Will it ever end? This awful loneliness, this agonizing pain? This life of a pawn and a tool, Hojo's tool, in which he is subject to the man's every whim?

I can stop it… I can end the pain…

A trembling hand lifts to his head, which is suddenly pounding. Where did this headache come from? He's sweating… he doesn't ever sweat.

"Sephiroth?"

The man spins around, hand on his sword, to see the young girl in the pink dress holding her hands up in surrender. Aerith. Yes, Aerith. Something in him snarls, enraged, put off, but that's… ridiculous. This is Aerith. The woman Zack loves so much, the light of his life. Sephiroth barely knows her, but he knows how much Zack loves her, and Zack…

Zack is the only person in Sephiroth's life who actually does love him. He won't risk the man's happiness for anything.

"Aerith." He manages, forcing his hand to move despite the bone deep agony. He wants to shove her away, to leave right now – where is this coming from? "I'm sorry, I – I'm not feeling well."

"I thought as much." She doesn't look scared, but concerned. "Can I do anything for you?"

Blinking, he turns to look at her. "… no." He sounds confused. Why would she care about him?

Her smile becomes softer, gentler. "It's okay to ask for help, you know. Everybody gets hurt."

For some strange reason, he finds himself talking. "… I don't." He tells her. "I am not meant to be weak."

"Everyone gets weak." Aerith insists, stepping closer. "You're not a God, Sephiroth."

His father – Hojo's voice – rings in his ears, like white noise. "I was meant to be."

"People can't give birth to a God. That's silly." She shakes her head, as if it's just a foolish notion rather than a maniacal plan one truly disturbed individual hatched so many years ago. He is the fruit of that awful labor. Sephiroth feels sick.

"Then what am I?"

He doesn't really expect a response. He really doesn't expect the hand on his arm. "You're a person, Sephiroth," the girl smiles at him. "I hope one day you'll really understand that." With one last soft look, she steps away. "Feel better." Then she's gone, walking off with a skip in her step and a tune on her lips.

Sephiroth feels – suddenly angry. Which is weird, since a moment ago Aerith's words had made him feel… better. Yet, vulnerable. Fragile. Now he's just furious, and he wants to hurt something, someone – to hurt instead of be hurt- to cause pain instead of feel it –

Where is this coming from?

What is happening to me?