"How the hell does this count as a plan?"

Smirking over the edge of the newspaper in her hands, Yuffie cocks an eyebrow. "It'll work just fine," She insists, straightening her paper back out. "So long as you cool it."

Huffing, Barret remains flustered, a big burly man hunched over a small café table in a hole in the wall in Cosmo Canyon. His foot is practically shaking under the table. "They could be here by now woman! We need to move!"

"That's what they'll be looking for!" Sighing, Yuffie drops the paper. "Two people running for their lives is a dead giveaway. But they don't actually know what we look like. We lay low, act like we belong here, let them move on their way, and then we can make a break for the coast."

She's explained this a hundred times, but Barret still feels antsy about it. "Ugh," Sighing himself, he throws a hand over his face. "I dunno how well this is gonna work."

"Like I said – chill and it'll be fine! We'll look just like tourists, we just have to play the part, Dad."

"Oh, Gods, if I was your father I'd kill myself."

"Gee, thanks."

Caught up in the conversation, neither of them noticed the newcomer approaching their table slowly and quietly. Only once the stranger stood just before them, a lean figure with a red cape falling over his shoulders, did they notice. Two sharp red eyes look both of them up and down, wide, curious, and sharp.

Yuffie tenses, just barely, but sticks to her role. "Dad do you know this guy?"

"Uh – excuse me," Barret, however, is no actor. But at least he's trying. "Who are you?"

The man takes one more look at both of them, before reaching for his ear, and saying the word, "Boomshakalaka."

Yuffie stares. Beside her, she's pretty sure Barret's about to have a fit. The tall man stands, looking ready to defend his "daughter" from the weirdo.

"What the hell was that?"

"A codeword." The man replies simply.

"Code for what!?"

And then a half dozen armed soldiers surrounded them.

It took six days total for the Highwind to arrive in Cosmo Canyon. Once it arrived, the ship took anchor outside of town, and a small team descended to the earth below to find the insurgents.

The leader of said team was Zack, who was thrilled to be in charge and giving orders to a team of about twelve, which included to his great surprise, Vincent Valentine.

"Oh, this is so cool!" The man gushed the whole way into town, having chosen Vincent as his partner. "A legendary Turk and super SOLDIER team up! This'll be awesome!"

"…"

"I bet we'll be the ones to find them too. Won't that be awesome? Don't forget to use the code word."

"…"

"Man, you're something else. That's alright though, I'm used to the silent treatment with Seph." Shrugging, the man walks with his hands behind his head, a small grin on his face, as they enter town. "You remind me of him a lot, you know?"

That's the first thing that prompts a real reaction – a sharp look, pointed like daggers, to which Zack holds up his hands in self defense.

"Easy! I didn't mean anything by it!" Of course, the look in his eye says otherwise. But Zack knows better than to push.

To be honest, he's not sure what to think of this guy. He wants to like him, and Zack usually does like everyone. But in this case he finds himself extra critical, watching like a hawk everything Vincent does. Because he knows, whether blood or no, that Sephiroth now sees this man as family, and Zack has watched over the last five years as Sephiroth's "family" has beaten, abused, and tormented him.

He's not gonna let it happen a second time.

Not that he thinks Vincent is inclined to any of Hojo's darker passtimes; but he knows the man has his hangups, and has already hurt Sephiroth with his distance. Zack desperately wants to help somehow.

"Look," Vincent takes Zack's attention away from his thoughts. The man nods, indicating the path ahead of them, and Zack follows his gaze to a familiar face.

"Hey!" The SOLDIER beams, calling out to the other. "Hey, Red!"

The cat creature perks up, head turning to face them, before bounding over to say hello. "It's a surprise to see you here." Clearly, the cat is nervous, eying both of them with some suspicious. Still being Shinra isn't earning Zack any friends. "Where's Cloud?"

"Back at home. We're heading to meet up with him after some business here."

It takes a minute of chatting, but the cat relaxes, and eventually travels with them. They walk along together, Zack and Nanaki talking the whole while, until eventually they come to a halt.

"What happened to your companion?" Nanaki questions. Zack, realizing for the first time that Vincent has disappeared, begins to panic.

That's when his ear piece flares up with the crackle of sound. "Boomshakalaka."

Zack's the one who handles talking to them.

Vincent sits outside the closed room, hovering, listening. None of its very surprising. The woman all but refuses to talk, shouting expletives and creative curses all the while, and the man is almost as determined to be unhelpful. Zack's been trying for an hour to convince them that they are not here under official orders and they are not taking them custody for Shinra. It's not working.

Footsteps echo down the hall, metallic and grating. Vincent blinks, and sees the Captain emerge from the shadows, a trail of smoke filtering behind him. His eyes blaze in the dark, lit by the embers of a real cigarette perched on his mouth, between two fingers.

He removes it, flicks the ashes away. "Had a weak moment," He mutters, eyes lowered, voice low. After a minute, he tosses it aside, stamps it out. With a quiet curse he settles against the wall, hands in his pockets. "Anything yet?"

Vincent merely shakes his head. In reply, Cid curses, to no one's surprise. His fingers twitch at his sides, head falling back to rest against the wall.

The brunette turns to examine him. "Feeling well?"

It's clear the man's not. He's agitated, fidgeting, bags beneath his eyes. Cid's sharp gaze hits him, cockeyed. A silent acknowledgment – that they both know what's going on – travels between them.

Vincent fights, and then gives in to the urge to give voice to it. "Have you… learned anything?"

Cid hesitates. "… nothin' yet." Eyes that are wide and surprisingly nervous meet Vincent's. "What do you think?"

Vincent turns his head. "His mother all but confirmed it."

A vehement series of curses escapes him, as Cid drags a hand down his face. After a minute his body copies the motion, sliding down the wall. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"I cannot say. I am not her."

"I woulda been there." He's shaking a little, fists clenched at his sides. "I woulda helped, damnit."

"Perhaps that is why." Vincent feels completely out of his depths here, but he can't say nothing.

"The fuck you mean?"

"Maybe she did not want help."

"Didn't I deserve to know!?"

"Yes." That much Vincent knows. "But I'm sure she had her reasons." There's really nothing else that can be said. There's so much that's unknown: whether they really are related, why they were kept apart. The two fall silent, until Cid turns his gaze.

"What about you?" He mutters. Vincent hesitates to turn his head. "That boy… he yours?"

Vincent says nothing. Cid nods, and turns away. Neither of them are sure. And neither of them are sure how to feel about it.

Vincent's gloved hand curls into a fist. A minute passes, then another. Suddenly the man bursts into action, so fast the pilot jumps. He storms forward through the door into the room with Zack and the two strangers, all of whom break out of their argument to turn to Vincent in shock and surprise.

The man ignores them, moving straight to the nearest rebel, the young girl. He throws out his arm, lifting the sleeve to reveal the scars, where the clasps in the gold metal are welded into his skin, where he's been cut open, sewn shut.

"Shinra did this," He mutters, voice thick. "I was one of them, and they betrayed me. Left me to rot. What remains of the establishment which allowed this travesty and so many others will be destroyed. The question is," He eyes one, then the other. "Will you help us do it, or not?"

The wide eyed girl takes just a moment more to look upon the gruesome marks on him, before giving a slow nod.

The Highwind remains parked over Cosmo Canyon one night longer.

It's a good chance to refuel and stock up, to give the crew a little rest before heading off again. Vincent's not thrilled, but agrees to it, and Zack happily takes the chance to run off for a little R & R with Aerith. They're gone within the first hour of the announcement of their stay.

The two rebels are still locked on the ship, if only to be sure they don't bolt. Zack had spoken to them for hours after they'd finally agreed to help, and they seemed genuine, but there was no room for taking risks. Vincent had approved. Zack might seem airheaded, but he's a keen tactical mind, hidden beneath a bubbly exterior.

Vincent watches from a distance, upon the ship. The young man and his lover have been joined by the cat, Nanaki, on a tour of the Canyon. Many of the ship's crew are below as well, but as he scans with his sharp narrowed eyes, Vincent can't seem to find the Captain.

Then he smells it; grease, sweat, and tea leaves. He turns, stiffening somewhat, to see the Captain crossing towards him.

Vincent isn't sure how to handle Cid Highwind. He's an odd soul; an interesting one for certain, but one Vincent's not sure how to trust. It's old hat now to be leery of Shinra, not to mention Shinra scientists, and a head of department at that. Cid is quite literally from the same mold as Hojo – it's only a matter of seeing if his character is from that same mold as well. It doesn't look it, but Vincent's been burned too many times to cease being leery now.

It's just… if this man is Cloud's father? That complicates things even further. Is he a good man? Can he be trusted? Can he be a good father for the boy? Does Cloud even know, or want to know, or want him around? And why does all of this tug at his heart so?

Vincent frowns, turning his gaze away.

Cid walks up until they're almost a foot apart, before sitting, letting his legs dangle out over the edge, leaning on the safety bar. "Not goin' sight seeing?" The man's smirking, his vaporizer back again.

The brunette huffs. "Do I look like a tourist?"

"Maybe." There's a grin on the captain's face as he shrugs. "One of those convention things people go to, dress up and shit. Like a vampire or something."

Vincent doesn't understand a word of it, so he just ignores it. Cid doesn't seem to mind – it's a strange quirk of the mans' that he's so keen to fill silence, yet so comfortable in it sometimes, too. He sits relaxed against the bars, fingers tapping on the metal, before reaching into his pocket.

He doesn't pull out the vaporizer – it's a real cigarette. Cid notices Vincent watching and grunts. "Don't do it much anymore," He admits guiltily, flicking his lighter. "Been a rough day."

Vincent just watches. The smoke billows and wavers with the wind. "In my day," He says, "There was no reason not to."

"You ever smoke?"

He nods. "It was normal. Lucrecia smoked – even during her pregnancy. To think, now..." Haltingly, Vincent falls silent. "The world has moved far beyond me."

"What, 'cause you're behind on medical science? Shit," The man chuckles, shaking his head. "I know fuck all bout the world I'm living in, besides flying and science, that shit. Nobody knows it all. You figure out what you're good at, you stick to it, you'll work out fine."

"And what is that?" Vincent murmurs, eyes half lidded. "It's not so simple to find a purpose."

"Sure it is," Cid insists with a shrug. Vincent meets his gaze. "If you can't find a purpose – you make one. Cloud's mama taught me that one." If he hesitates and struggles with the words for a minute, Vincent takes no notice of it. "When the world come out from under you, you're the one who's gotta pick yourself back up. Ain't nobody else can do it for you – they can help, but that can't make ya put one foot in front of the other. And when you're on your feet, you gotta give yourself a reason to get moving."

"Speaking from experience?"

Cid waits. Takes a puff from the cigarette. "When I lost Shinra – let's be honest, it was losin' flying that fucked me up – I was a wreck. Drinking, smoking, havin' temper tantrums. I was in no right state of mind. Miss Strife kicked my ass into gear. Cleared my head and got me going. That's when I started all this." He waves to the machine they're sitting on. "I wouldn't have this, if not for her." Taking another puff, he turns his head. "She's a goddamn lifesaver."

For a moment, Vincent simply watches the man. Sharp keen eyes stare unblinking, and Cid seems unmoved. He sits relaxed as usual, watching the sky. Then, Vincent's gloved hand suddenly reaches out, and Cid reacts with shock – but not fast enough to keep it from snatching his cigarette.

"Hey!"

"I've heard these are bad for you," Vincent says, examining the thing, twisting it in his hand. Cid can only watch, slightly baffled, as the man smirks and lets it fall from limp fingers, drifting lazily to the ground more than a hundred feet below.

Cloud Strife is not having a good day.

For one, he's in Nibelheim, and that never spells out "good time" for anyone. In fact, having a "good time" has been against the law according to the penal code for the last seventy years.

So, at least's he's not gonna get in any legal trouble for all this bullshit.

Shrugging off the man assaulting him, Cloud turns and finds even more coming at his back. "Is there an end to these?"

Tifa, across from him, is handling a group on her own. They aren't dangerous – they're slow, dim witted, and unarmed – but their relentless, and there are hundreds of them. It's like a zombie movie, only the zombies don't bite, they just keep mumbling over and over.

"Reunion..."

That word – the moment he heard it, Cloud knew. This all ties back into Shinra and Sephiroth, somehow. That research, the mansion, all of it connects. He's got to get away and talk to Sephiroth, but at the moment, he and Tifa and a few other denizens of the town are all that stands between this slow moving mob and Nibelheim's general populace.

Dim witted or not, these things are dangerous.

"Cloud! Watch it!"

Shit – he spins, sees already the problem Tifa's caught onto. One of the dumbasses managed to trip on his robes, flinging himself against some of the other creatures. They tumble in a heap, tearing down some of the beams supporting the lanterns overhead. The lights slip, the ropes holding them going slack, until they snap and the lanterns swing, straight for the god damn houses.

Talk about a fire hazard.

Grimacing, Cloud breaks into a run, watching as the lanterns hit their mark. The crack of glass, the heavy burst of a small flame erupting into something larger given more kindling. The roof of one of the houses is already half gone. But maybe he can keep it from spreading.

Cloud leaps, activing the water materia on his bracer, sending a torrent over the home. But it's already spread to the roof next door – Cloud lands on the house, frowning when he notices the spread – the wood creaks beneath him – fuck.

Shingles crack and the weight gives way, and he falls into the house. Because of course. This is his damn luck. And while he's floundering, the town is catching on fire, and Shinra's weirdoes are breaking in, and where the hell is Sephiroth?

The mansion, right. He'd said he'd wanted to look around.

Standing, Cloud begins casting more spells, aiming for the fallen beams around him still aflame, trying to think of what his next move should be. Stick with Tifa? Defend the town that never gave a rat's ass about him? Or look for Sephiroth, the man who admittedly has not been the friendliest or most genial of people but who has, at least, not kicked him in the face and spat on him before leaving him to rot. (There are multiple people in this damn town who have done that. A sad thought.)

Cursing, Cloud bursts out the front door of the house, looking for Tifa through the smoke. He can't even see her. And suddenly he remembers who else has been missing – his mom. Who never showed up to the memorial before all this began.

Had she seen them coming? Had she gone to stop them?

Suddenly, he knows what he must do, and Cloud bursts into a run towards his house.

When he leaves the mansion, Nibelheim is on fire.

"Oh, fuck," He says, and just like that all the emotions and feelings are tucked away and General Sephiroth is back.

Frowning, the man storms down the hill for the town like hell is on his heels, or more appropriately, he is the hell in heels coming for whatever the fuck is fucking with his day. Because clearly someone did this to fuck him over, why else would a tiny town in the middle of nowhere matter to anyone?

Fuming, Sephiroth draws Masamune and cuts down the first unfortunate hooded thing assaulting two screaming natives, who stare in fear and horror at Sephiroth as soon as they see who it is. He ignores them; turns the creature over with his boot, examining the face beneath the hood.

It's a deformed creature, something that once was human but no longer is, and it has no place in this tiny hamlet tucked between the mountains. Frowning more deeply, Sephiroth storms into town.

He's tossing spells left and right, mastered materia flaring to life with barely a thought. It's practically raining by the time he gets to the town square where most of the creatures are, and sees Cloud's friend Tifa fighting them off with a few of the locals.

"Ms. Lockhart, move!"

She listens like a SOLDIER, falling to her knees in time for Masamune to swing over and cut down a dozen of the beasts in one swoop. The other locals stare in awe, having never seen it – Tifa, to her credit, leaps up and keeps fighting, like being in combat back to back with Shinra's General is a normal part of her life.

"Nice for you to show up," The girl grunts, punching one of the things in the face. "Here, these are for you." She gestures to the creatures, before kicking one of the ones struggling to stand.

"Yes, I imagine they must be."

"They won't shut up about reunion!" Tifa says. "That mean anything to you?"

Sephiroth's eyes flare. "Interesting." He says, even as he kills twenty of them, without so much as blinking.

The rest of the locals are just standing back and watching, at this point.

In no time, the threat is contained, the creatures are dead or knocked down, and Tifa and Sephiroth stand in the middle of the chaos, of a town half burned down and covered in cloaked bodies.

Tifa, gasping for breath, wipes the sweat from her brow. "I hate you so much right now," She manages between gasps. "This is all your fault somehow."

"Where's Cloud?"

She shrugs, unconcerned. "I think he ran off looking for his mom. She never showed up for the memorial."

Eyes narrowed, Sephiroth turns his gaze southward, and begins to march.

Jean Strife does not have regrets.

Regrets would imply mistakes. Not that she's not made mistakes – of fucking course she has, for Gods' sake – it's just, she knows she did what she had to. Did what she could, when she could. Made the best of what she had. Regret would imply she made a wrong choice, but looking back, seeing what her life was then, Jean can't help but think it's all turned out for the best.

She's had a great life. Yeah, there's been trouble. A place like Nibelheim invites it. Cold weather and cold hearted, that's the place she calls home. It cost her family, long ago. Brother that didn't survive the winter, parents that died fighting a damn dragon – because lunacy is apparently an inherited trait.

But she loves her life. Jean's traveled, fought, explored, conquered so much in the world. And to her great surprise and joy, she's been able to give life, not just take it. To have a son.

Maybe it was selfish, keeping him to herself. But in a way, it was selfless too. Because she knows Cid would have helped – of course he would. But would it have been out of love? Or out of obligation? This was a man with big dreams, a man shooting literally for the stars – a child... was a lot of work.

She didn't want him to lose his dreams. Didn't want him involved in the kid's life out of some feeling of debt. But she had no idea if Cid even wanted kids or not, no idea how to even work out a relationship with her living in Nibelheim, and his work in Rocket Town, and the baby torn between them?

It never would have worked.

She'd written a letter, once. Never sent it out. Eventually, she tucked it away in the safe, in case she ever passed and Cloud went looking for answers. The kid deserved to know, and yeah, Cid deserved to know. She just... never knew how to go about it, and when the time would be right.

The longer she waited, the harder it got. The older Cloud got, the thinner her excuses got. Cid's business was established, his airships flying fine without him – he could've spared time for a kid. Cloud was an adult, could've gone and goddamn lived in Rocket Town, if he'd wanted.

… so, why?

She was scared. Scared of so many things. Of Cid's reaction, of Cloud's, of what might happen. Would Cloud be furious with her? He'd never seemed interested in his father's identity, never pressed much. But maybe it was something he'd kept from her. Maybe, finding out the truth, he'd begrudge her earlier reluctance...

It's a lead weight on her soul, now, this secret. She wants to say it, share it, and has no idea how.

She hopes she'll have the chance.

"I don't remember inviting guests over for dinner."

The man stands in complete shadow. He's alone, so it seems, but Jean is sure there are others nearby. She can practically feel their eyes on her. In one hand, she holds her cane, using it as a crutch as she steps forward through the shadowed living room.

"Ms. Strife," The man's voice is nasally, obnoxious. She already doesn't like him. "You are no concern to me. Merely a means to an end. Your son has become something of an interest to my research, and your cooperation will ensure his."

Alarm flares in her veins like fire.

"You stay the hell away from my boy."

The man's head moves – light flashes off of the man's glasses, lens flaring. Then he smiles. Two men appear out of the shadows nearby, armed, and begin approaching her.

Jean's hand tightens on her cane.

"I'm warning you." She doesn't back up – doesn't move. "Leave my house, now." They don't listen. They keep approaching, helmets blocking their eyes so all she can see is that unnerving red circle.

When they come within reach of her, Jean's hand twists the handle on her cane.

It clicks, and comes free – and she pulls a sword, about four feet long, from the wooden sheath of the cane. Then, she flips the cane sheath into her other hand, smacks one soldier across the head with it, striking another with the blade on his arm. She hears him curse and drop his weapon – a rookie move. Clearly some young buck who expected no fight out of the old lady.

That'll teach him.

She spins, knocks one of the grunts in the neck with the cane, and he goes down. More are appearing suddenly – and she fights, goddamn she fights. It's been a while though, and she's old and tired, and cause they're Shinra they don't fight fucking fair.

She feels the dart hit her thigh and curses. Falling to one knee, Jean's world spins, but she can still see enough and hear enough. She sees Cloud run in, hears his voice screaming for her as if he's miles away, and sees the soldiers running for him.

She tries to speak. Tries to say something, anything. But she can't. And for the first time, Jean Strife has regrets.