Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

               No one was entirely sure what was going on in the Northern Crater, only that nothing good ever happened in that gods forsaken place. It had been almost a year since the Remnants and Geostigma were taken care of, and things had been, astonishingly, calm since. Perhaps they were just due for another crisis. That’s what Cloud’s exasperation told him anyway as he hiked his way down the caldera.

               Ever since he landed on the Northern Continent, it had just been one big blizzard. If he were slightly less enhanced, he would have frozen to death long ago. As it was, he was stuck running in place with every pause just to keep his body temperature up. It worked, but it was tiring. The tents he had brought did nothing to keep him warm, and the winds and snow demolished any fire he managed to get lit. It was lucky he needed very little sleep, or this adventure would have been impossible. It was hard enough finding the scant few caves he did that allowed him to get some rest—he didn’t like to think about what would have happened if he had needed to rest in the open.

               Navigation was next to impossible. Reeve had given him equipment, but with the temperatures as low as they were, they had long since stopped working. It was good that Cloud was good in the wilderness and could get by with nothing more than a traditional compass and a map that had been blessedly laminated to protect it from the snow. His sense of direction had always been good, thanks to his mother forcing him into the wilds around Nibelheim at a young age, and it had only gotten better in the mad chase around the world.

               It took an absurdly long time, but he succeeded in getting to the bottom of the Northern Crater. The only problem was the building sense of foreboding as he climbed down. Something was going to happen. Something was going to meet him there, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what. He checked the materia in his bracer over and over and over again as he hiked, and only kept his hand off First Tsurugi’s hilt by sheer force of will.

               Something was building at the back of his mind, a strange pressure. It made him think of Jenova at first, but that couldn’t be it. Firstly, because they had finally gotten rid of the last scraps of her in the fight against Kadaj. Secondly, because it didn’t feel quite the same, and he as intimately familiar with that particular pressure on his mind at this point. It had always been a buzzing pall, a heavy, dark weight that suffocated slowly and filled one with a strange, desperate yearning. This wasn’t quite the same. It was heavy, yes, but like a weighted blanket, not like graveyard dirt. There was a longing, but it was peaceful, pleasant, like an imminent homecoming, not like a man in a desert looking for water. That it was so different comforted, but it also set Cloud on edge. Jenova, at least, he knew. That was a devil he was familiar with, knew how to fight. Whatever this strangeness was, it was new to Cloud. Yet somehow, it felt old, and strangely familiar.

               What was the most bizarre of all, was that when Cloud arrived at the bottom of the Crater, there was absolutely nothing there.

               He looked around, poking his head everywhere it would fit, in cracks and crevices and behind boulders. He could see the cracks in the ice where the WEAPONs had been so many years ago. He could see the webbing of roots high overhead where Sephiroth’s mako crystal had been supported. He was in the right place, he was absolutely sure of it, but he pulled out the map to look anyway. As he stared down at it, he was certain he was in the right place. He just didn’t understand what was happening.

               Reeve had been receiving bizarre readings from the Crater, and naturally everyone was concerned. That place reeked of Sephiroth, and no one had pleasant memories of it. They all hoped that perhaps the Lifestream had overtaken it and made it a holy place, but it seemed like too much to ask for. Given that it was the dead of winter on the Northern Continent, there was no one they could really send other than Cloud, except maybe Vincent, but the man was always terribly hard to get a hold of, and this really couldn’t wait. Cloud had set out within a week of the strange readings turning up because of the sheer amount of anxiety they brought with them.

               Cloud still didn’t know what was causing the readings, now that he was standing here. He knew that something was here by the ear popping pressure in the air, but for the life of him, he couldn’t find what it was. He was ready to give up when the pressure began to build, and build, and build.

               Champion.

               Cloud opened his eyes to realize he was in a very familiar position, on his knees with his head in his hands. It made his stomach sink and twist, knowing the last cause that had forced him here. But the pressure of Jenova and Sephiroth had always left him gasping as if he was drowning when he came to, his head pounding with an impossible pain lancing through it, every muscle in his body taut and trembling. But now, he was on his knees because his legs had simply given out. He felt boneless, weak, in a way he hadn’t since his last dip in the Lifestream. His head was in his hands because it was spinning—gods, he was so dizzy. His eyes almost seemed to cross with it. The position was familiar, but everything about it felt different, right down to the voice in his head. This voice was sweet and welcome and familiar right down to his bones.

               “Aeris?”

               Champion. Long have you fought. Your peace is hard won, but it is drawing to a close.

               He didn’t like the sound of that.

               Images flashed behind his eyes. Fire. Black lancing through the Lifestream. Crumbling buildings. Dead bodies in heaping piles. Children screaming. Monsters rampant in the streets in a way they hadn’t been since Shinra ran the world.

               The Son of the Calamity. He will not disappear into the Lifestream. His will is too strong. He craves you and will find a way to reach you. You keep him here, and it cannot continue.

               Sephiroth flashed behind his eyelids next. The manic look in his eyes. The wicked smile on his lips. The cold contortion of his face. His smirk. His sneer. His wild laugh. The world-bending pride on his face that demanded everything around him kneel.

               “What do you want from me? Who are you?”

               The answer came in flashes. The Lifestream. Green, rolling fields. High mountains. Vast oceans. Flowers.

               Gaia.

               You cannot stay, but there is nowhere for you to go. As long as you are here, he will be too. This cannot stand. He will return, again and again. Do you have the will to fight him for eternity?

               “I do. I’ll do whatever has to be done.”

               It wrung his heart. It destroyed him in measures to fight Sephiroth, it always had. This great man, brought so low, turned into something that he surely would have loathed if he only had the sense to see what he had become. But there was nothing to be done. He would fight Sephiroth as long as he had to, no matter the cost to himself. He would give up every scrap of humanity he had left if that was what he took. He had destroyed all of the Planet’s WEAPONs, but he would become the next one for her, if that’s what needed to be. He left Gaia defenseless, and he would step up to fill the gap he had left. No matter what it took from him to do so.

               Your resolve rivals his. You, too, do not know how to return to the Lifestream. You’ve had your chance, so many times, to become one with the Planet, every time you’ve fallen in. But your will, too, does not know how to bend. Sooner or later, you will die as he has, from causes natural or unnatural. Your wills will be brought together in the Lifestream, where they will clash, because you do not know how to do anything else, and he will bring the fight to you. I cannot sustain such a battle in my core.

               Cloud didn’t understand. Did the Planet want him to lay down arms? He thought he was doing the right thing, vowing to stand in Sephiroth’s way until the world fell apart around them. But he apparently forgot to consider just what it meant for the world to fall apart around them.

               No. You cannot concede. He will destroy whatever you leave unguarded until there is nothing left. But you cannot continue to fight him. The body toll will be too high. The casualties will be immense. His return is on the horizon. Even now, he gathers his will. He will return to this place. You have destroyed Jenova’s body, but he contains enough of her that it will not matter.

               “I don’t understand. What do you want from me, then?”

               You cannot continue to fight him, but you cannot afford not to. You are the glue that binds him here, the rope he follows to return. The planet will know peace only if you are not here. It is the only way to dissolve his will.

               “So… you want to kill me?”

               Cloud felt panic build in his chest, but it was quickly followed by a sense of peace. He didn’t want to die. He was still responsible for a great many things. But that responsibility weighed on him like iron chains. He was starting to drag his way out of depression, was starting to find his footing in the world, but there were still a great many days he asked himself what he was still here for, now that the battles had been won. He didn’t want to go, now that he was finding his way. But if Gaia asked it of him, he would do it. He had decided long ago that he would lay down everything for the Planet and those that called it home. He could be okay with this. He regretted that his friends would mourn him, but better that than an eternal battle with Sephiroth that would bring the world to ash. No, he could do this. He would do this. For the Planet. Besides, it might be nice to lay down arms, at long last.

               No.

               No?

               If you are dead, you will return to the Lifestream. Your will would clash with his there. It would bring the end much quicker. No, there will only be peace if you are not here.

               Not here… as in not on the Planet? Cloud felt lost. Maybe they could rebuild the rocket? He got the feeling that Cid would kill him for trying to be the first person to permanently leave the Planet, though.

               “How do I leave?”

               Are you willing to continue the fight? Will you pick your sword back up? Will you lay it all on the line to save the world, one more time?

               “You know that I will. Anything, Gaia. Anything for the Planet.”

               Even if it is not your own?

               Cloud opened his mouth to answer, but apparently the question was rhetorical. The world around him faded as he swooned, collapsing onto his side in the snow. He had a brief moment to wonder what Gaia meant before it all faded to nothing.

Chapter Text

               When he woke, it was to the biting cold he had left.

               He blinked open his eyes slowly. He was covered in a thick layer of snow. He was soaked to the bone. A harsh shiver ran through him as he pushed himself first to his knees, then his feet. He began knocking the snow off his clothes and out of his hair as he looked around.

               He hadn’t moved, per se, but everything was different.

               From the ice around him, the large face of a WEAPON stared out at him.

               Cloud froze.

               No WEAPON could be there. They were all destroyed. He had done so himself. He’d forged a blade from the bones of one. There was nothing left to protect the Planet but him, he knew that. So what was staring at him from the ice?

               It couldn’t be WEAPON, but it was, he was certain. The old Northern Crater had long been seared into his mind from when he had given the Black Materia to Sephiroth, a scene that still haunted his nightmares. And this looked identical.

               He looked up above, where he knew Sephiroth would be, only to find him missing. His brow furrowed. He looked back at WEAPON, which blinked absently at him. He looked up to the roots above him again and squinted.

               There was nothing for it. He pulled the ropes from his pack, which was thankfully still there, even if it was buried in the snow. It took time, but he climbed his way up into the network of roots. He scoured every inch of it, but there was nothing to be found. Sephiroth was not there.

               WEAPON was.

               What in the world did it mean?

               Cloud looked down at WEAPON below him. He knew the WEAPONs were dangerous. They were as likely to destroy the world as Sephiroth was if they weren’t given a clear goal. He didn’t like the idea of leaving them here, but without Sephiroth and his awakening to awaken them in turn, they would remain asleep and trapped. It was more important to figure out what was going on than worry about the WEAPONs. If push came to shove, they could be destroyed again. He and AVALANCHE had done it once, they could do it again.

               Cloud looked around him. The blizzard that had plagued his trek in was absent. The snow that had covered him when he had woken was blown into place by the wind, but there was no fresh powder falling from the skies. He risked pulling out his PHS, knowing signal was spotty here, and sure enough, there was no connection to be had. He sighed, but shouldered his pack and began moving. There was nothing for it. He couldn’t reach anyone right now to figure out what was going on, and Gaia’s cryptic words still hung in his ears.

               The return journey was infinitely quicker. The storm was absent, and it was strangely much warmer. If he didn’t know he had left in the heart of winter, he would have thought it was spring, if not summer.

               It still took a while to reach Icicle Inn, but eventually he paid for his room and went to retire to somewhere that was finally, finally warm.

               What was strange was the way the woman at the front desk looked at him. It was as if she didn’t recognize him. There was nothing wrong with that, per se—in fact, Cloud would love for no one but people he personally knew to recognize him. But that just wasn’t the case anymore. Apparently, saving the world a time or two gave one a reputation. People recognized him on sight. People looked at him with awe and stars in their eyes. They stuttered when they spoke to him, or asked for his autograph if they were brave. They gave him a wide berth on the street. They stared and whispered.

               None of that happened here.

               People on the way into the Inn had bumped shoulders with him. The Inn wasn’t necessarily packed, but the visitors from out of town looking to snowboard didn’t look at him twice, much less let their eyes linger. The woman at the desk seemed bored to see him, instead of her eyes lighting up and a gasp on her lips at first glance.

               It was… bizarre.

               Cloud went and took a hot shower to warm his bones before flopping on his bed in a pair of sweatpants and not much else. The elements affected him less than most, and the Inn felt amazingly warm after the weeks he had spent out in the ice. If he put on the sweater in his pack, he’d probably start sweating.

               So he was shirtless and barefoot, in a state of rare undress when he pulled his PHS out again. Here in Icicle, at least, he had a few bars to connect to the outside world. He dialed Reeve.

               “Reeve Tuesti,” the man greeted blandly when he answered. He sounded distracted.

               “Reeve,” he greeted in return.

               “Yes? Can I help you?”

               The answer was odd, unfamiliar. Maybe he really was distracted. Surely he at least glanced at the caller ID before picking up?

               “It’s Cloud,” he said, in case the man hadn’t. “I’m back from the Crater.”

               “Cloud? Cloud who?”

               Cloud pulled the PHS from his ear to look at it oddly. He pressed it back in place after a long moment.

               “Cloud Strife.”

               “I’m sorry, but I don’t know a Cloud Strife. How did you get this number?”

               “… You gave it to me, Reeve.”

               “I’m not in the habit of giving my personal PHS number to strangers. It’s not even on my business card.”

               He sounded bewildered. It had nothing on the confusion Cloud felt. He scowled, hard.

               “Reeve, I’ve had a very strange day, I’m not really in the mood for your jokes.”

               “… Cloud, was it?”

               Cloud sighed deeply.       

               “Of course, Reeve.”

               “Cloud, I’m not sure who put you up to calling this number, or who gave it to you, but I’m actually quite busy. I need to be getting back to work.”

               Reeve got in the strangest moods sometimes. He spent too long running around as that damn cat, if you asked Cloud. The WRO had been good for sobering him up, but sometimes his jokes still ran away with him.

               “Fine, fine. Can we at least discuss the readings from the Northern Crater before you hang up?”

               “What readings?”            

               Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a slow breath.

               “The ones you sent me trekking across the Northern Continent in the dead of winter to look into.”

               “… but it’s summer, and no one short of Sephiroth could survive such a journey in the winter.”

               The remark about Sephiroth stung—as if he needed a reminder of their similarities. But what stuck out was the comment about summer.

               “It’s what?”

               “It’s July 17^th today. Do you not know that?”

               “No, I’ve been neck deep in ice for weeks.” It would normally have come out sarcastic, but it was full of wonder.

               “Well, that’s the date.”

               Then there was a sinking in his stomach.

               WEAPON. Summer. The lack of public recognition. Reeve not knowing him.

               Gaia said the world needed him gone. That his fight would be for a different world.

               “Hey, uh, Reeve?”

               “Yes?”

               “What’s the full date?”

               “What are you asking?”

               “Humor me.”

               Reeve sighed deeply, but complied.

               Cloud jerked the PHS from his ear and snapped it shut, quick as lightning.

               It was almost ten years ago.

               Cloud all but ran out of the room and pounded down the stairs. He skidded to a stop in front of the alarmed woman at the front desk.

               “Can I help you?”

               “Do you have today’s newspaper?”

               The woman looked confused at his urgency, but dug around below the counter. Eventually, she handed out the folded stack to him.

               Reeve hadn’t been lying.

               He stared down at the date for a long, long time before setting it carefully back on the counter with shaking hands. He mumbled his thanks before making his way slowly upstairs.

               He sat gingerly on his bed, staring at where First Tsurugi was leaning against the wall.

               It was almost a decade ago. The headline on the paper proclaimed the recent success of new general and SOLDIER, Sephiroth, in Wutai. He was in the past, and in a critical era. His mind was reeling.

               Gaia told him he’d have to fight. What had she meant? Clearly he would have to take Sephiroth down, but it wouldn’t be enough. He had to destroy Jenova. He had to destroy Hojo, before the man got it in his head to try making clones. He had to prevent Meteor. He had to prevent Nibelheim.

               An immense pressure settled on his shoulders. There was so much at stake. The whole world, really. He had to stop it all before Sephiroth became what he would—a nightmare that couldn’t be eliminated, no matter how many times he was killed.

               His head hurt. How was this supposed to work? Was there a little him, running around Nibelheim right now? Would he run into his past self? Should he look for his past self, try to help him? No, there were more important things at stake than one child, no matter how invested he might be in that child’s future. All he could do was make sure that boy never had to go through what he did.

               But, through it all, a flicker of hope spread through him. He could fix things. He could make it so Cloud never had to experience the labs, or have to watch his home burn, or have to kill the one person to ever inspire him. He could make it so Zack never went to the labs, never died. He could make it so Aeris never had to sacrifice herself.

               A traitorous part of him, the one that never knew when to accept things as a lost cause, wondered if he couldn’t save everyone, even Sephiroth. If maybe the man wasn’t irredeemable. If, maybe, he couldn’t tweak things enough that he never became a threat.

               He quashed that immediately. It wasn’t a chance he could take. Sephiroth had to go. For a young Cloud’s sake. For Zack’s sake. For Aeris’s sake. For the Planet’s sake.

               With his mind made up and determined to ignore that the thought had ever so much as come to him, Cloud sprang from the bed. He yanked on his ribbed sweater of a tank top, jerking the zipper up to his chin. He repacked his bags and clomped down the stairs, making a beeline towards the door.

               “Hey!” the woman at the desk called. “You already paid for the night!”

               “Keep the gil,” Cloud said, letting the door swing shut hard behind him.

               He had things to do.

Chapter Text

               Cloud knew he had to go south. That much was obvious. There was nothing he could do, no way to help from the Northern Continent. The question was, where did he go first? There were so many things to get done, it was hard to prioritize. There was Jenova, Hojo, Sephiroth, his younger self (was there a younger version of him still?), Nibelheim in general, Wutai, gods, did he even worry about getting AVALANCHE back together? They were all still scattered. Half of them were still children at this time. Tifa probably still had a bedtime. Yuffie certainly did, and was probably babysat, at that. He couldn’t reassemble the old team.

               Well, not most of them. There was one of them that he was dead certain was an appropriate age for a little bloodshed.

               He angled his path toward the Western Continent. If he went to Nibelheim, he could take care of more than one thing with a single stop. He knew perfectly well how to take down a reactor. He could remove Jenova while he was there. He could see if there really was a little-him running around that he’d need to watch out for. He could drag Vincent out of that godsforsaken coffin and out into the real world where he could do some good. Even if Vincent wasn’t wasting his skill in his punishment, he didn’t want to leave his friend to suffer. This Vincent was a stranger, but if Cloud could set him on the road to forgiveness, he wanted to.

               So he made the trek. It was a blessing and a curse that his current outfit still resembled a modified SOLDIER First uniform. Everyone who saw him saw his clothes, saw his eyes, and left well enough alone. To be safe, he skirted the bigger towns. The last thing he needed was word of a rogue SOLDIER getting back to Shinra. He didn’t need them on his tail before he had a chance to even do anything. It wouldn’t be a huge issue—he’d chased Sephiroth around the globe while on Shinra’s black list. That didn’t mean he wanted to deal with the hassle of it. He wanted to fly below the radar this time, keep things as quiet as he could.

               It took him longer than it would have otherwise because he was avoiding the large towns. He slept outside without a tent simply because he didn’t have much choice. People paid good gil for proof of murdered monsters, and he had to kill plenty on his way. It could have brought him enough for proper supplies, but then he’d have to go into town, and he wouldn’t risk it. The little villages didn’t have the gil for a mercenary fund unless there was a truly awful monster infestation. Cloud knew it from his own experience in Nibelheim; the only time they had paid someone to take care of monsters had been when the dragon population got out of control, and even then, they’d called Shinra.

               He foraged and hunted and slept on the ground, but there was something a little nostalgic about it. He’d done this for a year, after all. They hadn’t always had access or gil for an inn, and they still had to eat and sleep. They’d gotten enough tents for everyone after a while, but when they’d first left Midgar in particular, it had been the ground under the stars for them. It left a strange pang in his chest. He missed his friends.

               More than once, he flipped through his PHS, looking at numbers he knew now would not work, or if they did, wouldn’t get him the friends he knew. He reread old conversations through text and found himself wishing fervently that he’d engaged more with his friends while he had the chance. What got him through the ache of it all was the AVALANCHE group chat. He and Vincent had rarely participated unless asked direct questions, but it was a long thread of banter and jokes and life updates that made it feel like his friends weren’t so far away.

               He pointedly didn’t think about how far away they actually were. About how he might never actually see them again. Oh, he didn’t doubt he’d run into some of them, but those people weren’t his friends. They didn’t know him. They didn’t share history. They weren’t the people he was missing.

               Every time his mind strayed in that direction, he immediately found something else to do.

               He made it to Nibelheim eventually, despite it taking far longer than it would have if he hadn’t been trying so hard to be subtle.

               There was nothing for it in Nibelheim, though. He could skirt the village and make it up to the reactor, probably even get into the Mansion without notice if he really had to, but he needed supplies. He couldn’t build bombs out of nothing, and the village was his last chance to get the final ingredients. He’d picked up a few things along the way, stored in a pack he’d bought with his ever dwindling supply of gil, but he needed the last items.

               That meant going into town. Which meant an uproar. A strangely SOLDIER-looking fellow wandering in with an uncanny resemblance to the Strifes? There would be talk. He knew Nibelheim. There would be questions, but luckily, he’d had the whole trip to prepare.

               He wandered into the village and went to the single, small clothing store first. He needed anything that didn’t make him look like a SOLDIER, that read a little less military. He was perfectly polite as he shopped and paid. If the woman looked at him oddly the whole time, especially when he asked to borrow the changing room after he had paid, it wasn’t too bad. She didn’t actually ask anything, just looked at him curiously. Something was clearly off about him, and Cloud was certain she’d spread word lightning quick once he was gone, but she let him change into his new purchases without a fuss. He left dressed in matching black jeans and tee-shirt, keeping his own boots; he was too used to wearing only black at this point to change. He was lucky it was summer, and no one would look at him twice for not being dressed for the cold.

               Sure enough, within a few minutes of leaving the store, there were people peeking out their windows at him as he wound through the town. He paid them no mind. He was sure he would have been one of them, as a boy. There was so little of interest that happened in the village, anything of note was cause for excitement. He wasn’t going to start a fuss if they weren’t.

               He went to the general store next to pick up the last odds and ends he needed for his bombs. Household chemicals, some containers, a spool of wire, and he was done. He bought his items, trying not to look too hard at the scant amount of gil he had left over when he was done. The woman who ran the general store watched him even closer than the one who ran the clothing shop.

               As he paid, she said, “You from outta town?”

               “Yeah.”

               “Where abouts?”

               “The Northern Continent.”

               “That’s a long way to come to visit a little burg like us. What’d you come for?”

               “I apparently have family in town. I’m on my way south, thought I’d stop by, say hi.”

               “Hn. The Strifes?”

               “That’s them.”

               “You know where to find ‘em?”

               “Not really, I was gonna ask around. Unless you could give me directions?”

               Cloud let the woman give him instructions on how to reach the home he was perfectly able to find on his own to avoid suspicion. He nodded politely, thanked her for her help, and left the shop.

               He knew Nibelheim well enough to know how this worked. Normally, Cloud didn’t speak quite this much. He got away with it by virtue of being the brooding hero, in his own time. Before that, when he’d been traveling with AVALANCHE, it had been Zack’s personality that got him through at first. Zack had always been so much friendlier than he was. After that, he simply hadn’t given a damn about being polite, and was frankly so curt and short with people that it was rude. He’d had bigger things to worry about than manners, at the time.

               But in Nibelheim, he knew better. If he followed the right codes of conduct, he’d be more unremarkable. A rude boy who blew into town with an attitude issue would be talked about for quite a while. A polite young man who brought in some business, visited family, and left without a fuss would be less worthy of discussion. It was worth the effort to avoid Shinra’s attention a little longer, especially considering this was a reactor town. He couldn’t remember how often people came to do repairs, having not paid much attention as a child, but he needed to be a distant memory in the town’s memory by the time they came by next.

               With all his supplies and his change of clothes, he made his way through town to his childhood home.

               Part of this was selfish. His heart was hammering in his throat. He hadn’t seen his mother since before Nibelheim burned. She was going to be here, now, alive and well. She may or may not buy his story, but at least he’d get to see her. Yes, it would help to know if he had a little version of him running around to look out for, and that was ostensibly the reason he was going at all. But really, he just wanted a chance to see his mother one more time.

               He stood at the door for a long, long time. He could feel the town’s eyes pressing against his back from the safety of their windows. The only thing that eventually got him to knock was concern for his cover story, that it might look suspicious if he was too nervous about seeing his supposed family.

               When Claudia Strife opened the door, Cloud’s heart climbed all the way up into his throat. His breath hitched. She looked at him curiously, seeing the obvious resemblance. It was only the polite distance on her face that got Cloud to rein in his rioting emotions.

               “Can I help you?”

               “Hi,” Cloud said. “I’m, uh, family? I’m from the Northern Continent. My mom, she used to talk about this place. Said she had a sister she left behind here when she moved up North?”

               It had been a distant, distant memory for Cloud. His mother used to talk fondly about her sister who moved up to Icicle. She used to talk about how the Strifes just couldn’t get out of the cold.

               Claudia’s face lit up.

               “My little Snowflake had a son? Gaia, she must have been young when she had you. Please, come in!”

               Cloud still wasn’t sure if Snowflake was the sister’s name or nickname. It could be either, considering his own name.

               He ducked his head and came inside, wiping his feet as he did.

               “Cloud! Come out here!”

               Ah, shit.

               Cloud looked up to see his younger self poke his head out from around the corner of the hall.

               He’d been hoping that maybe, with all the timeline weirdness, he was the only Cloud Strife running around. It’d be one less person to worry about, one less potential victim to protect. But the little blond boy came trotting up, looking at his older self with big eyes.

               “What’s your name, son?” Claudia asked him, and he had to fight to keep his breath even, being addressed that way. He knew it was common for Nibel folk to call any male younger than themselves “son,” but it still made his heart stutter.

               “Everyone just calls me Strife.”

               “Even your ma?”

               “She’s—well, she passed. They started calling me that because I was the only one in town.”

               Grief passed over Claudia’s face. He could see her eyes water, but she pulled in a deep breath and smiled. She squeezed his shoulder.

               “Any son of my Snowflake is a son of mine. Speaking of sons, this is mine—Cloud.”

               Cloud looked down at his younger self. Part of him wanted to crouch to eye level, like he would with Denzel, but he knew how he was at that age. It would just aggravate the kid. He stuck his hand out instead.

               “Pleasure to meet you,” Cloud said.

               “You too,” the younger version said as he shook his hand, voice much higher than Cloud ever remembered his own being. He guessed perspective would do that.

               “You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you? I want you to tell me all about Icicle,” Claudia said.

               Cloud paused.

               It wasn’t wise. He had his answer about his younger self, now. He had gotten to see his mother. The smart thing to do was to make his excuses and leave. He had to go get Vincent. He had a reactor to blow up and Jenova to fry. They were all things that really shouldn’t wait.

               But the fact was, he wanted to stay. He knew things were going to be hard. Gaia had warned him this would be a fight. He knew where he was headed when he was done in Nibelheim, and it was going to be hell. This was his last respite, the calm before the storm. He was reluctant to leave it.

               He told himself that it would be more believable for his cover story if he stayed. He’d said he came to see the Strifes, it wouldn’t make much sense to pop in so quick and then leave.

               (It wasn’t the truth. The truth was, he wanted to see his mother for as long as possible. He wanted to see the younger him, whose biggest problems were bullies, and dream about all the possibilities for him, if life didn’t chew him up and spit him out the way had happened in Cloud’s own timeline. He wanted to have everything he’d been denied before, just for one night.)

               It was selfish, to stay. It was impractical. It was irresponsible.

               It was exactly the right decision.

               The night was everything he never dared to fantasize about. He got to see a little him, relatively carefree, laughing and smiling and full of hope. It was like he’d finally gotten the little sibling he’d always begged his mother for, a little brother to take care of. It was worth shouldering the burden of protecting him. He got to be with his mother, hear her laugh, see her smile, feel her embrace him again. He’d reminisced about his mother a thousand times, but her memory had been fading. He had been forgetting her, the sound of her voice, her smell, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she got that mischievous grin of hers.

               It wasn’t the right thing to do to stay the night. But it was exactly what he needed to give him the strength to do what had to be done next.

Chapter Text

The night spent with his family had been as necessary as it was frivolous, as pleasant as it was strange. He decided he would see his younger self as a brother, and as soon as he did, he became immediately attached. When he was thinking of him as a younger self, he kept waiting for him to disappear as the planet corrected its paradox. But thinking of him as a brother made him solid, less ephemeral. He stopped waiting for him to vanish, which meant he was staying. If he was staying, and he was family, he was someone to protect, another part of Cloud’s responsibility. It was more weight on his shoulders, but it was worth it. 

His brother was fiery and shy in turns. He didn’t seem to want Cloud to know anything about him, and tried to shush his gushing mother at every turn. He did something Cloud had forgotten was an old habit of his—calling his mother “Mom” instead of “Ma” when he was upset with her. It brought home how much he had forgotten of the woman, and his childhood. It raised a fierce desire in him to never let the circumstances arise that would lead to such a situation for his brother. 

But the night had dwindled down. Young Cloud was sent to his room at an appropriate bedtime, and his mother brought out the liquor—cinnamon whiskey she used to top off hard cider. Drinking was common in Nibelheim, to stave off the cold if nothing else. The thought of drinking with his mother was strange (he’d still been too young when he left home) but he looked like an adult to her, and this was what adults did in Nibelheim. 

“So, son,” his heart skipped a beat, “what actually drags you all the way out here?”

He paused, drink halfway to his mouth. 

Shit. He’d forgotten how perceptive his mother was. 

“I’ve got a couple of pit-stops to make in the area,” he admitted. “This wasn’t my end destination.”

“Where’re you headed?”

Cloud carefully set his drink down. 

“It’s better if I don’t tell you that.”

“It got something to do with that big butcher’s knife of yours?” she said, nodding to where he had left it leaning against the wall, still in easy reach. 

“You could say that.”

“I don’t like it, but I won’t tell you your business. Stay safe as you can. My boy, he likes to run headlong into trouble, and you remind me of him. Try not to do that.”

Cloud picked up his drink again for something to do, something to distract him from that comparison. 

“I’ll do my best. No promises.”

“You sure you’re not just looking for trouble?”

“Trouble usually finds me either way; it’s better to head it off at the pass, where I can.”

Claudia nodded safely, sipping her drink. 

“Curse of the Strife name.”

Cloud smiled and hid it behind his glass. 

“Don’t know if I’m glad or not, that it’s not just me it seems to haunt.”

“Nope, it gets to all of us, one way or another. I just hope it won’t hit my boy too hard.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t.”

Claudia looked at him consideringly; he guessed it was a strange sentiment from someone they just met, family or no. He took another sip. She smiled fondly at him. 

“Thank you. Somehow, I think you mean that.”

The interrogation ended there, devolving into lighter subjects. They talked until they finished their drinks, when Claudia got him blankets and set him up on the couch. He tried to say he should head out; he could push through with no sleep, and it didn’t matter what time it was when he woke Vincent. She insisted, though, and he didn’t have it in him to deny her. 

He did think it was fair to sneak out as soon as she was asleep, though. 

He left a note on top of the folded blankets that thanked her for her hospitality, and then ducked out of the house into the Nibel night. 

It didn’t take very long at all to reach the mansion; it was just down the road, really. But he stood outside the gates for a long, long while, just staring at the building, his heart thudding loudly in his ears. But then a sharp gust blew by, carrying with it an unseasonable chill. Cloud shivered, but it got him moving. 

He vaulted over the fence with ease; he could have crumpled the lock in his hand, but he didn’t want the Nibel kids to be able to get in easily with how many monsters called the mansion home. He focused on his breath and the chilling breeze to fight back the swell of memories that rose up higher with every step he got closer to the building. He never liked remembering what happened in that basement, but sometimes, it came creeping up anyway like bile up the throat. 

He was hoping the monsters inside would kick up a fuss to give him a distraction, but no such luck. Wild creatures, especially the weaker ones, tended to avoid him on instinct. He didn’t know if it was a response to the mako, the Jenova cells, or simply sensing someone at the top of the food chain. Regardless of the cause, his biggest concern as he made his way upstairs were the rickety planks of the stairs threatening to give. He pressed the switch to open the wall, not even needing to look to find it. He watched the brick slide with a grinding noise to one side, showing the endless spiral staircase. These stairs didn’t creak quite as ominously, but Cloud still wouldn’t have been convinced they would hold, if he didn’t know they’d carried him further down the timeline, after even more aging and warping. 

The basement was freezing, and sent a slick shiver down his spine. He ignored the fluttering of bats above him to make his way to the lab, bypassing where he knew Vincent was resting. He broke everything he could see; every mako tank, computer, and cabinet was left in splinters. He went through every inch of the lab, combing through for anything that could be used to hurt another person and making sure it was ruined by his hand. Part of it was catharsis and vengeance, that was true. But at least half of it was to be sure that, no matter what happened, his brother wouldn’t be brought here. It might be another lab squirreled away somewhere else, if he failed, but at least his memory of Nibelheim would never be soured. 

When the space was in ruins, Cloud backtracked to the coffin room. There, he saw Vincent’s casket, just as he remembered. He still felt it was overdramatic of him to hide in a coffin, but it did mean people were unlikely to disturb him. Unless you had Yuffie in tow, who insisted that there might be treasure buried with the bodies and demanded they check. 

Cloud hesitated, unsure about how to go about this. He wasn’t flippantly popping open the coffin to get Yuffie to give it a rest; he was deliberately disturbing someone who didn’t want to be found. Should he knock?

He scoffed at his own ridiculousness. This was stupid. Vincent had never been a stickler for manners. 

Cloud flipped the lid off the coffin, letting it clatter to the ground. 

Vincent didn’t blink his eyes slowly at the sudden light the way anyone else would have. His eyes simply opened and he sat up. They narrowed just a hair, in what Cloud only knew was vague irritation because he was used to reading the man’s silent cues. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but Cloud interrupted, saying, “Your name is Vincent Valentine. You were the Turk assigned to guard Lucrecia Crescent during the Jenova project. Hojo shot you in the chest with the shotgun you gave him. He spent who knows how long experimenting on you. Galian Beast can smell that there is no fear on me. Death Gigas wants to knock me out so he can go back to resting. Hellmasker is itching to shut me up any way he knows how. Chaos, though, he’s intrigued; if you close that coffin on me, he’s going to prod at you all night and you won’t get any more sleep for a while, so you might as well come out of the coffin and hear me out.”

Vincent gave him a look that was slow and appraising. If he was disturbed that a stranger knew his darkest secrets and could guess at the whims of his demons with uncanny accuracy, he didn’t show it. He just leapt gracefully out of the coffin. 

“You aren’t dressed like one of Hojo’s assistants.”

“I’m not. I’m going to see him dead; you have dibs on pulling the trigger if you want it, though. You’ve got the right.”

Cloud had felt bereft when he watched Vincent kill him last time; he’d wanted the honor himself. But seeing a tension he thought was just a part of the man slip from his shoulders as Hojo fell to the ground had made it worth it. 

“If you have reason to want him dead, why are you not insisting on doing it yourself?”

“Because, clearly, I know your history. And it’ll be good for you, to do it yourself.”

“Why would my benefit matter to you?”

“Because we were friends, once. But that’s not the important part—that, I can explain later. We have a lot of ground to cover tonight, and it can wait. For now, I need you to come with me.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because Sephiroth, Lucrecia’s son, is on a dangerous path. I know you’ll want to save him, if we can. He may not be so far gone that that’s out of the question, yet. But, when we’re done here, I’m going to go find him. I’m going to make a judgement call, and if I find him wanting, I’m going to put him down. If you don’t come with me, you can’t stop me from killing him, if you think he can still be saved. Stay here and trust the judgement of a stranger with the life of Lucrecia’s son, or come with me and judge him yourself. Your call.”

Vincent stared at him for a long, long, long time. Cloud let him take as long as he needed; he knew there was no rushing Vincent if he didn’t want to be. He just blinked back at him, waiting patiently for his verdict. 

“Where are we headed?”

“Out of the building, in a minute. I have a fire to start, first.”

Vincent blinked at him, his head dipping just a hair, and Cloud knew that was Vincent-speak for “go ahead.” He turned and walked out of the room, leaving the door open for Vincent behind him. 

He didn’t know that Chaos filled the silence he left. 

“Interesting. He knows too much, and he reeks of fate. Things bend wrong around him. He’s a puzzle piece, forced to fit a spot he wasn’t carved for,” Chaos said to Vincent. 

What does it mean? Vincent asked. He rarely listened to the demon, as his words usually had no use other than spiking his temper. But he could sense things Vincent couldn’t, and sometimes, that was worth paying attention to. 

“It means, little soul, that he has purpose, and that is something few people can claim.”

Vincent filed this away for later thought as he trailed Cloud toward the library. He watched as Cloud, meticulously and thoroughly, lit the books on fire. It was only when he was absolutely certain it would all burn to ash that he led Vincent out with a jerk of his head toward the door. 

Maybe he could have just broken the lock to get in. But maybe the fire wouldn’t spread to the whole building, and that was all the more reason to keep the children out. Better if they didn’t run around burned-out ruins. 

Vincent followed him silently through the building and out of it. He climbed up and over the fence that Cloud jumped with ease his glowing eyes explained. Then he followed him as he led him up toward the mountain pass. 

As this was a long hike, up to the reactor, Cloud decided to fill the silence. 

“I’m from the future.”

Vincent stared back at him, his expression relatively even, but Cloud could see by the single line between his brows that he was baffled. 

“Chaos can probably sense Gaia on me. Galian can tell if I’m lying. Ask them.”

There was a rumble of agreement from the Beast. 

“It would explain why he doesn’t fit quite right. And the stench on him does smell like the left-overs of Gaia’s touch.”

Vincent blinked for a few seconds, and then nodded. Cloud nodded in return. 

“In the future, a lot of stuff goes, frankly, to hell in a handbasket. We’ll have time for the details as we travel, if you want them. The short version is that Jenova, the ‘Ancient’ whose cells Hojo injected Sephiroth with, isn’t an Ancient at all. She’s an alien, and powerful, and as rotten as they come. Hojo filled that library with nonsense about how she’s Sephiroth’s mother, and how she’s an Ancient, and the world is his birthright—it goes on, and it’s all horseshit. Sephiroth finds it, and between that and her call, he loses it. He’s never the same after. He calls himself a god and wants to burn the world for reasons that are also horseshit. But he does manage to summon a giant Meteor and nearly does burn the world.”

“But?”

“But he’s stopped in time. He’s killed—for the second time, I might add. But he comes back again, in a complicated situation involving alien scraps and remnants of himself—or maybe of his clones, I was never clear on that. Anyway, he brought with him this illness that wiped out a lot of people, innocents and kids. Once that’s cured, and he’s put down for the third time, it’s not even that long before he nearly manages to come back again . He can’t become one with the Lifestream in death; I think it’s his will that stopped it, but metaphysics go over my head half the time. Long story short, he goes off the rails, and Gaia sent me back to make sure it doesn’t happen this time.”

“And you intend to do that by?”

“Getting rid of Jenova. Hopefully that will be enough to do it, but in case it isn’t, getting rid of Hojo, so he can’t make any Sephiroth clones that might be able to do what Sephiroth did in my timeline. Then, make a call on Sephiroth. If I think he’s going to be a problem, I’ll kill him. If not—well, I’ll still find a way to keep an eye on him, just in case.”

“Which part of this are we on our way to?”

“Jenova. She should be in the Mt. Nibel reactor. Hopefully all in one piece, still, so I don’t have to track down scraps of her.”

Vincent paused to consider this, mulling the situation over. He didn’t want to be party to killing Lucrecia’s son, but he’d always known how to do what had to be done. And if this was what needed doing, so be it. 

Cloud let him take his time coming to his conclusions, long used to Vincent’s habit of drifting without warning into silence. 

“I’ll help how I can,” Vincent said eventually. 

Cloud felt his shoulders relax just a hair. 

“Thanks. I know you don’t want to hurt him, but maybe we won’t have to.”

Cloud carefully didn’t say that he thought that was an impossibly small chance. 

Vincent heard it anyway. 

“Some day, you will tell me how you know so much about things you shouldn’t, and your part in all of this.”

“You told me about yourself, and the things that happened, and the things that ride along with you. It took years for you to get the whole truth out, only ever bits and pieces at a time, but you got there.”

“And I trusted you with these truths.”

“Apparently. Maybe, one day, you will again.”

Vincent had no answer for that, so the rest of the trip was in silence. 

It was very nearly dawn by the time they reached the reactor, the first teases of sunlight poking up over the horizon. The light helped Cloud’s nerves more than he expected—and he was nervous. 

Because things were going too well. There was no buzzing in the back of his mind, no weight pressing down on him, no pressure like being deep underwater. His ears didn’t ring, didn’t fill with static and white noise and far-off singing. The stars didn’t fascinate him and call to him in a way they shouldn’t. Every hallmark of Jenova was absent. 

He told himself that it was practice. The walls around his mind were sturdier, now. He knew how to block it out. Jenova couldn’t reach him because his mind was well-protected these days. 

(He carefully tried to forget that, even when his protections were at their best, he could feel the pressure he had to push back against. That it had always been an active defense, a battle, not something effortless.)

When he got inside the reactor, he bounded up the stairs, anxious to set his fears to bed. His breath kept catching in his throat, his heart beating a tattoo against his chest. He pressed the panel at the side of the door, watched it slide open, and stared up at the dais. 

The empty dais. 

“ Fuck .”

He knew, the whole trip up, that she wasn’t here. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, never would have if he didn’t see it with his own eyes. As it was, he still went to the lower level to look for her, just in case. When he had searched every inch and not found one silver hair, he cursed again. 

“I take it Jenova should be here.”

“She should. Shit . If she’s not here yet, she’s in Midgar with Hojo.”

Which meant he had two options. Deal with Midgar, and storm Shinra, or go find Sephiroth. 

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it briefly. 

Sephiroth was the key to it all. Without him, there would be a big delay before anything could start. Hojo would need to make a successful clone first. The time bought with Sephiroth being dealt with would be enough that he could take care of Jenova and Hojo. He had half a mind to blow the reactor, as a convenient next step against the alien and professor. But it would be better left standing; if Cloud couldn’t get to Jenova in Midgar, at least he knew where she would end up, when the timing was right. 

Sephiroth it is. 

“Where to next?” Vincent asked, as Cloud clomped down the metal stairs toward the exit. 

“Wutai.”

Chapter Text

               Cloud, as a rule, was not a man with a plan. He found he worked best when he improvised, and had long since stopped fighting it. Still, even he knew that he needed some kind of idea of what to do before he reached Wutai. Luckily, the journey from Nibelheim to the island nation was long enough that he could settle on something.

               It was a sketchy outline at best. It only had 4 steps.

1. Get to Wutai.
2. Join up with their army.
3. Find Sephiroth.
4. Keep an eye on him (and maybe stop his progress).

It had still taken him most of the trip to settle on this plan. He’d had a couple of options, after all, and he needed to settle on something. Vincent was absolutely no help when he asked for his advice.

The goal was to watch Sephiroth and see if he could be redeemed, though Cloud largely thought it was a waste of time. The most effective way to do that was to join Shinra, get into SOLDIER, and get deployed to Wutai. There were a few issues with that, though. It would take time, to get to Midgar, to enlist, to pass his exam, to get sent to the right area, and even then, he couldn’t be sure he’d be deployed with Sephiroth, and not to some other part of the front. There was the fact that he was clearly already enhanced, and he’d have to find some way to explain the glow in his eyes; he thought that maybe he could say he fell in a mako spring, but he wasn’t sure how far that lie would stretch. He’d have to tone down his skills to something that would make the SOLDIER cut but not show the depth of his prowess. Even then, it was likely there would be some tell, and someone as knowledgeable as Sephiroth would be able to spot it. It would be counter-productive to gather the man’s attention if he wanted to watch him unseen.

               (Not to mention that the idea of joining Shinra left a foul taste in his mouth.)

And that was the second option: to watch from the shadows. Wutai had enough tree-cover that he had a fair shot of being able to remain invisible while trailing Sephiroth. Even when the mountains were barren, there would be large boulders and caves and crags to hide behind. He thought he could probably manage it, but if he did get spotted (and he had to sleep at some point), it would be the quickest way to draw Sephiroth’s attention. He’d be an unknown threat with no discernable loyalty, which meant they would assume he was an enemy. They would send out troopers and maybe SOLDIERs to test him, and he would dispatch them because there was no real way he’d lose that fight, and then Sephiroth would be called in to handle him. This left him with the same problem as going to Shinra.

So he decided that the best way to keep an eye was to join the enemy. Assuming he could get Godo to trust him, he could give guidance and preserve some anonymity by being away from the frontlines. He could wear one of their uniforms, maybe some type of hood or mask, and then the only thing telling about him would be First Tsurugi. If he tempered his skills to something unremarkable, just enough to survive but not impress too much, then it was unlikely that Sephiroth would ever notice him. He’d be distracted enough on the battlefield that he wouldn’t notice Cloud watching. If their camps were close enough, he could watch from the shadows to see his behavior off the field, and he would have somewhere to return to instead of leaving himself undefended in the open to be found. It was his best bet.

Vincent hadn’t given him any concrete advice. He’d poked holes in every plan, finding every single possible flaw, and didn’t attempt to spare Cloud’s feelings. It was good that Cloud was used to this treatment, or it would have knocked him down possibly a few too many pegs. But he knew this was just the Turk training showing and set aside any hurt feelings, instead taking his critiques to heart.

               Their biggest point of contention was whether or not entering the war would disturb the timeline. Cloud had a leg up on things, knowing what was coming and what to prepare for, but if he made things too different, his knowledge would be void. Vincent was adamant that it was better to conserve any valid information they had and try to leave as few ripples in their wake as possible. Cloud, on the other hand, thought the more disruption there was, the better. The further afield they got from his timeline, the more things that were different, the less likely his future was to come to pass. If none of the conditions were met to bring about those events, they couldn’t occur. It wasn’t his plan, necessarily, but if his help swung the tide of the war, and Wutai won, it might help in the long run.

               They argued about this incessantly.

               Still, when they reached the Wutai capital, they agreed without words to set the matter aside. It was not something to discuss while they could be overheard.

               They got as far into the capital as they did because they both knew how to sneak. Vincent had been a Turk, after all, and could be a ghost when he felt the whim. He had shown Cloud enough tricks, and Cloud had enough remnants of Zack’s infiltration training stuck in the back of his head, that he knew what to do. His favorite way of infiltration was to just dress appropriately and pretend he belonged, hiding in plain sight, but that wasn’t an option, here; his blond hair gave him away as foreign.

               Cloud was only faintly surprised that they managed to get into Godo’s tea room unseen, but he settled himself onto a chair at a table and waited. Godo entered eventually, and when he did, he stopped with one hand on the door.

               He opened his mouth to yell, but Vincent slid from the shadows, covering his mouth and pulling him inside and shutting the door with an elbow. Cloud raised an eyebrow at him; they hadn’t discussed this, but he supposed he shouldn’t really be surprised Vincent would insist on stealth. Cloud was going to let Godo call the guards, then knock them all down to prove his skill and get the man to listen to him. But this would work too.

               Vincent was not much of one for a display of strength or hand-to-hand combat, but he was enhanced enough in his way that it was simple for him to wrestle a protesting Godo into the chair across from Cloud.

               “Lord Godo,” Cloud started, speaking the Wutaian Yuffie had taught him, watching the man squirm and talking just loud enough to be heard over his muffled complaints. “Give me fifteen minutes of your time. If you want me to leave after, my friend and I will go without any fuss. Just fifteen minutes.”

               He knew that this would have worked on the Godo of his time. The man grew complacent after his defeat and lost all the fight in him. If presented with a way to get someone to leave without protest, he’d snatch it up; he’d rather get back to sulking. But this was Godo in his prime, before his pride had been dashed. This was still a warrior, a leader that gave Shinra the biggest run for its money in its entire campaign to take control of the world. He might not take the bait.

               Luckily, Godo was enough of a tactician that he settled. He would run less risk of losing men if he attacked Cloud when he was retreating, instead of head on, while he was prepared for a fight. He had nothing to lose by listening, really. So, eventually, he nodded slowly. Vincent released him and stepped back one pace, far enough for breathing space but close enough to loom.

               “What is it?” Godo asked, continuing the conversation in his own tongue. Cloud hoped his vocabulary was broad enough for this; it should be, but Yuffie had taught him more cuss words than battle terminology.

               “I understand that I don’t look it, but I’m here to help. My reasons are my own, but I want to see Shinra brought low. I’m here to enlist.”

               “… You?”

               “The both of us, since he comes with me, but yes.”

               Godo laughed outright, before turning a suspicious gaze to him.

               “Why would one of Shinra’s own want to help us?”

               Should have known he’d have to give Godo something.

               “I have no ties to Shinra. I’m from the Western Continent, yes, but they took my home as much as they’re trying to take yours.” The conquering of Nibelheim had been before he was born, but he heard enough of the older folks grumble about it. “They don’t get to have the world.”

               Godo paused, looking at him appraisingly for a long moment.

               “And what do you have to offer us? Nothing but your blade makes you look a warrior.”

               Cloud tapped the ridge of bone next to his eye.

               “See the glow? Have you seen eyes like this before?”

               Godo’s eyes narrowed.

               “I have. In the inhuman ones that fight us. In their general.”

               “I’m not one, but I move like them. I don’t look like much, but I can keep up. Give me a chance to prove myself—me against whoever you pick. I’ll even go unarmed. When I defeat your best, you might be a little more willing to listen.”

               Godo looked him up and down. These were big words from a little, little man, who had no reason to want to help them. He didn’t understand what he was hoping to get from this, and his lack of apparent motive was disturbing. But Godo stood anyway, waving for Cloud to follow him. Vincent trailed behind Cloud who followed Godo, and the three walked in silence.

               Godo gave sharp orders for someone by a name he said too quick for Cloud to catch to meet them in the field behind the building, and then he led his “guests” there. He walked out into the empty grass, Godo lingering by the building, and Vincent followed him.

               “Is this wise?” he asked quietly in Common.

               Cloud shrugged and said, “I’ve got to prove myself somehow, right? Actions are bigger than words, and all that. I was never good at talking anyway.”

               He plucked his sword from his back and handed it to Vincent, who was the only one he would trust with the blade. Vincent took it easily in hand and went to stand across the field from Godo, before he planted it in the ground at his side. This way, he could guard it, but Cloud could also quickly grab it in a pinch.

               A man came out from the building and shared low words with Godo, wearing what was clearly some sort of uniform. It had combat fatigues, featured a tacky orange on the top, and plate mail armor across the shoulders and upper chest. There was a helmet, and for once, Cloud found he was glad to see one. Cloud didn’t bother to limber up as he waited, just watching in silence with his hands in his pockets. There was one final nod before Godo’s warrior of choice rushed him, a sword held aloft.

               Cloud waited until the very last second before he stepped out of the way of the incoming strike, not even bothering to take his hands from his pockets. He ducked the next one. Sidestepped. Leaned to the side. Crouched a little. Tilted his head. Turned his torso. He continued this dance, absently and easily dodging each incoming strike, the fighter growing more and more agitated as they went.

               Cloud called to Godo in Wutaian, “How long do you want me to do this? I can go for a while.”

               “You have proven you can dodge. Prove you can fight.”

               Without another word, between one blink and the next, Cloud swept the warrior’s legs out from beneath him. Another breath, and Cloud had him pinned to the ground. He looked up at Godo, whose initial reaction was fury. But then he saw it fade, replaced with something thoughtful and appraising.

               Considering how to best use Cloud.

               “I know my skillset best,” Cloud reminded politely, though he still didn’t let the man up. “Let me help you make your decision.”

               Godo looked at him for a long while before nodding.

               “Come inside,” he said, turning and making his way into the building. Cloud climbed off the warrior and, when he was standing, held a hand out to help him up. It was batted to the side, and Cloud shrugged; he tried. He turned to Vincent and jerked his head toward where Godo was disappearing; Vincent grabbed First Tsurugi, pulling it from the ground with ease, and then handed it to Cloud when he was near enough. He sheathed it at his back and trailed after the ruler of Wutai, having to lengthen his stride to keep up (Vincent had no such issues).

               When they were seated back at the table in the tea room, Godo gestured for Cloud to speak.

               “I think you can guess I’m a swordsman. I work best close up. I have experience leading, but I’m best with a small group. Give me a tactical force of your best—or as good as you want to trust me with, until I’ve proven myself fully. We’ll be able to move quick, strike hard, and be out before they know what hit them.”

               Godo drummed his fingers on the table in thought for a long moment before saying, “You’ll get your team. Not my best; you’ll have to earn that.”

               “Fair enough. My only request is a uniform. The one with the helmet.” When Godo raised a brow at him, he gestured toward his head and said, “Blond hair and glowing eyes would stick out a little, don’t you think?”

               Godo nodded his acknowledgement and stood, declaring, “It will be arranged.” He then swept out of the room, leaving Vincent and Cloud alone.

               “Well,” Cloud said, turning to an unimpressed Vincent, “that could have gone worse.”

Chapter Text

               He didn’t like this.

               He didn’t like this one bit.

               He finally found Sephiroth, and he was not what he was expecting.

               Cloud had gotten his team. They were doing something distinctly military: expressing disapproval while following direct orders perfectly. They didn’t want to work under Cloud, didn’t want to listen to him, but the superiors they did respect told them to, so they would. There were only five, plus Vincent and Cloud themselves. They did as they were told, but didn’t hesitate to make it clear in every silent way that they didn’t want to work with him.

               That was fine. He needed their cooperation, not their respect. He was content to earn that. He had only just gotten his foot in the door, after all; being liked was too much to ask for, when he was only barely given this chance.

               He had led AVALANCHE long enough to know how to wield a small troop like this. He knew where they could reasonably infiltrate, how big a group they could strike, where their best position would be. He had to dial back his expectations a bit; these were soldiers, but not people who had been put through the wringer that had been chasing Sephiroth across the globe. They weren’t trained to fight Jenova and her kin, just other men. But they were reasonably good, and once Cloud got a good feel for their abilities, he was able to use them as the strike force they could be.

               Cloud and Vincent did their scouting, not because Cloud didn’t trust the new soldiers to do it, but because he knew they could be quieter; enhancement did that to a person. When they had their perfect strategic points, they moved in and out before Shinra could respond, disappearing into woods and mountain passes as suddenly as they had come. They destroyed supplies and weapons. They picked off the guard rotation to let a larger force strike a sleeping camp.  They were a destabilizing force on the open battlefield, breaking open the front line and moving out for the main forces to swoop in and finish the job. They were flexible, and they were deadly, and Shinra was starting to take notice.

               He knew it was only a matter of time before Sephiroth stepped in to deal with them. There was no one else Shinra would have turned to, when all their other efforts failed. When Cloud heard the guards he was picking off discussing them, he knew they were on a timer.

               He wasn’t sure if he was excited or not, though he was definitely nervous. A part of him, the part that was torn into ribbons every time he had to kill Sephiroth, wanted to see him, see he was redeemable, and know he could spare him. The majority of him, though, had a firm grasp on the fact that this was a distant best case scenario. It had never mattered how reluctant he was to fight his once-hero; it had to be done, and no one else could do it, so that meant he had to step up. That sobering thought was what always quelled any distant stirrings of excitement.

               He wasn’t nervous because he was concerned about the fight. This was Sephiroth, yes, but a Sephiroth without Jenova’s aid. He had never fought Sephiroth before she intervened, so he couldn’t accurately gauge his skill level, but he was certain it wouldn’t be the nightmare he was used to. There was also the fact that Cloud had a lot of experience fighting him. He knew all his tricks and quirks, the strikes where he overextended a hair and the angle of his blade when his guard would be most likely to give. He knew the blows he favored, the parry he relied on when backed into a corner, the way he liked to jerk an elbow toward his opponent’s face to break their guard. This knowledge had become crucial in his era, because Sephiroth knew all his tricks as well. They could predict each other with eerie accuracy, always moving to account for the next strike before it could even begin. The Sephiroth of this time would have no such understanding of Cloud; it would be a severe handicap.

               He was nervous because, no matter any other factors, this was still Sephiroth, and the man would forever live buried under his skin. It was why Gaia had needed to remove him to begin with. He terrified him and infuriated him and filled him with anxiety in turns. Cloud could be many things to Sephiroth, but never indifferent. He would always, always be larger than life in Cloud’s eyes. He was his nightmare given flesh, he was every thought Cloud wanted to forget, he was the slick feeling of fear down his spine. He didn’t think it mattered what incarnation of Sephiroth it was; he was always going to feel like so much more than Cloud could ever hope to be, whether it was in a good way or bad.

               At least, that was what he thought until he met this Sephiroth.

               He hadn’t even intended to go up against him. He had intended on watching him from a distance. But suddenly, every warning bell his training had ever given him went off, and he spun on instinct, raising his blade to catch the one that crashed down on him. When it hit his sword with far more weight than he was used to these days, he finally looked to his opponent.

               Gaia, he was a child.

               Okay, well, he understood that Sephiroth was never really a child; that had been robbed of him by Hojo’s hands. Cloud knew perfectly well that he was raised as a weapon and nothing else. But when he saw him look so young, he almost believed he was the kid he looked like. There were still hints of baby fat softening his features—though perhaps he only noticed because he knew what he would grow up to look like. His youth wasn’t helped by the surprised look on his face; the expression was minute, in the way Sephiroth’s always were, but he had long since gotten used to reading them for any clue they could provide. And when his eyes widened just a hair, he looked so unlike Cloud’s Sephiroth that he lowered his guard as he took a step back.

               He wasn’t even dressed the same. He was in the classic SOLDIER First uniform; the one Cloud associated more with Zack than anything else, and wasn’t that a blow. His hair was tied back in a high ponytail behind his head, which was something Cloud had never seen before. His Sephiroth was so unearthly simple things like hair in his face never seemed to be a problem. He was still wielding Masamune, and strangely enough, that was a comfort, to Cloud. At least one thing was the same.

               Another similarity was the way his eyes narrowed as he watched Cloud’s guard dip. But instead of wasting the opportunity, he pushed forward, moving to strike Cloud down in his lapse of attention. He wasn’t accounting for the fact that Cloud was essentially as enhanced as he was; he got his blade up in time to block.

               And so began the strangest dance Cloud had ever had with Sephiroth. He didn’t attack one time; he wasn’t here to kill, not yet. He played defense, blocking and dodging and ducking out of the way. He could see from the faint twists of his features and the rising tension in Sephiroth’s shoulders that this was slowly infuriating him. He wasn’t used to being played with this way; no one could keep up with him like this. The few that came close fought desperately, always pressing any advantage they could get. No one had a prayer if they didn’t take the offensive when they could get it, but Cloud never seemed interested in even trying for it. He clearly wasn’t trying his hardest, and that galled Sephiroth.

               It astonished Cloud. Because he had known it wouldn’t be the impossible struggle he was used to, but he didn’t think it’d be this simple. Sephiroth still had the leverage in brute strength, that was true. But Cloud was used to compensating for that. The way he knew every nuance of Sephiroth’s technique meant that every gesture seemed to be loudly telegraphed. His opponent didn’t have quite the finesse he would have in later years. He was accustomed to relying on his enhancements, and it showed. His technique was still excellent, but it wasn’t immaculate the way Cloud was used to. Cloud thought that he—for all that his style was cobbled together from scraps of Zack, what he had taught himself, and what he could steal from Sephiroth—would be able to teach this Sephiroth a thing or two.

               It just wasn’t right.

               It shook Cloud so bad that he let the fight drag on longer than he should have. He should have ended things quickly to leave less of an impression, but his body was moving on auto-pilot, his mind far away in a daze. He couldn’t believe what he was experiencing, and that made him take longer to realize what he should be doing. When he finally snapped out of it at the strange sight of Sephiroth baring a hint of teeth in fury, he parried quickly. He slipped under his guard and knocked an elbow into his sternum hard enough to knock the wind out of him and push him back a quite a few paces. By the time he recovered, Cloud had flipped up into a tree and disappeared.

               He was the last one to return to camp; his men and Vincent had wrapped things up quickly, following procedure without his guidance. The men looked at him curiously, but Vincent was watching him like a hawk. It was clear he had watched him fight Sephiroth; he wondered what tree he had been hiding in.

               Cloud, knowing they were going to have a conversation about it one way or another, resolved to get it over with and ducked into the relative privacy of his tent. Vincent slipped in after him.

               “Well?”

               “He’s—different. Younger than I ever remember him being. Sloppier. Bit more temper. But it was one fight, Vincent, I can’t make a call from that. He’s definitely not who I’m used to, but I don’t know if they’re similar enough to make him a problem. We’ll have to see. I need more time.”

               Vincent nodded.

               “Chaos says there’s something off about him, the way there’s something off about you. Not quite the same, but a similar flavor.”

               Cloud had to fight back his wince.

               “Some of the same experiments done to him were done to me.”

               “He says that it’s buried underneath Gaia’s touch in you, but at the fore with Sephiroth.”

               Cloud shrugged and said, “Maybe it’s from when she sent me back? Maybe it’s because I’ve been dunked in the Lifestream too many times. Who knows.”

               Vincent accepted this pseudo-explanation with ease. There was a pause before he said, “Tell me when you’ve made your call. I will tell you when I have made mine.”

               “About me, or about Sephiroth?”

               “Both.”

               With that, Vincent dipped under the flap of the tent and slipped into the night. Cloud indulged in a gesture he usually tried to bury: he ruffled his hair. He took a deep breath and blew it out slow.

               He didn’t think this was going to get any stranger, but it seemed like it had.

Chapter Text

               Cloud was generally occupied at all times. It made things significantly more difficult when it came to watching Sephiroth. He knew he was nearby, now, and it frustrated him that he couldn’t watch him at all hours. But, every now and then, he was able to give Vincent a set of instructions for their group and disappear to the Shinra camp.

               He heard some very, very interesting things, lurking behind the officer’s tent, eavesdropping through the canvas.

               “I don’t understand,” said a voice Cloud couldn’t place. “He what?”

               “He deflected me at every turn. It seemed almost easy to him.” This voice he didn’t have to try and place; he didn’t think he could ever mistake Sephiroth’s voice, even if it wasn’t as deep as he remembered.

               “And you said he was in the standard uniform? Orange, combats, helmet?” A different voice, deeper this time.

               “The only thing against regulation was his sword. It looked almost like yours, Angeal.”

               “No one unenhanced could use a sword like mine. Busters are for SOLDIERs,” the second new voice, Angeal apparently, said with confusion thick in his tone.

               “No one unenhanced could keep up with Sephiroth,” the first voice argued. “The question is, who is enhancing Wutai’s troops? They don’t have access to mako.”

               “Maybe they’ve stolen some of ours?” Angeal suggested.

               “We brought very little with us to Wutai; someone would have reported it, if it was taken,” Sephiroth said. Cloud could hear someone pacing, and the footsteps sounded like Sephiroth’s, but he’d never been one to waste movement, much less pace.

               “And there are no rogue SOLDIERs we know about?” the first voice said.

               “Genesis, even if there were, we’re the closest SOLDIER has to offer when it comes to keeping up with Sephiroth,” Angeal said, and finally, he had a name for the first voice.

               Genesis scoffed and said, “Obviously. But, to our knowledge, no one is enhancing anyone outside the program.”

               “Someone else may have figured out the process. And that is alarming news for Shinra,” Sephiroth said.

               “Damn the enhancement, it’s more alarming that someone could keep up with you,” Genesis said.

               “Keep up easily. He made a single offensive movement, and it ended the fight. He fled without following through. He could have ended me, but chose not to. An odd sentiment, from a Wutaian soldier.”

               Angeal sounded hesitant when he said, “Maybe he has some other goal.”

               “Other than defending his homeland?” Genesis asked.

               “It’s either that or Wutai suddenly isn’t worried about Sephiroth. Somehow, I don’t think that’s likely.”

               “He can’t be camped too far. We ought to find him,” Genesis said.

               “And do what?” Sephiroth scoffed. “None of us will be able to subdue him, much less eliminate him.

               “Maybe we could, with the three of us,” Angeal suggested.

               “We need more time to judge him, before we attempt that. It would be best to surprise him with all three of us once we have some familiarity with him,” Sephiroth said.

               “But then he’ll also be familiar with us,” Genesis countered.

               “With the level of skill disparity, I doubt it will make a difference.”

               There was silence for a moment; no one seemed to be happy about that idea.

               “We’ll find some way to compensate,” Genesis said as if it was a certainty. “There’s a way around everything.”

               With that, Cloud moved away from the camp; he had heard enough, and it was better to move away while there were their voices to cover the sound of his movement. He was lost in thought the whole way back to camp, and even after he reached it. He nodded once to Vincent as he passed him but slipped into his tent without a word.

               He had no idea who Genesis and Angeal were, or why they were acting like they were Sephiroth’s lieutenants instead of Zack. They had been pretty clear that they were the second in skill to Sephiroth, and possibly a close second, at that. He knew his memory of Shinra was hazy and spotty and overall unreliable, but he didn’t think there was a hole this big. How could he not remember two entire commanders?

               What was worse was, now he didn’t know what to do about them, since he wasn’t sure what happened to them in the first place. Were they threats as well, did they need to be removed? If he was trying to diverge from the timeline, should he spare them or kill them? Did they survive the war on their own, and if so, what did they go on to do? If they survived the war, they couldn’t have lived much longer, because Cloud would have remembered people of their stature, he was sure of it. He was positive Zack was Sephiroth’s lieutenant, by the time they were friends. Which meant death or some sort of fall from grace. He just couldn’t remember which it was. The whole point of this journey in time was to use his foreknowledge to fix the past. But if he couldn’t remember what happened, he was flying blind, and that defeated the entire purpose.

               What was more alarming to him than Genesis and Angeal’s general existence was Zack’s absence. He had been concerned about meeting his friend, about how he would react, what he would give away, what it would mean to be on opposite sides, if he could find a way to protect him on the battlefield. But Zack didn’t seem to be here, and if he wasn’t in Wutai, where was he? He couldn’t possibly still be in the cadet program, could he? He had to be a SOLDIER. But they needed every SOLDIER they had on the front, and Zack wasn’t here.

               He didn’t like the amount of unknowns he had here.

               As the time trickled away from him while he thought about this, it became clear he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. It wasn’t a huge deal, he didn’t need to sleep every day when it came down to necessity, so he got out of bed. He grabbed his helmet from on top of an ammunition crate and shoved it on his head before ducking out of the tent.

               He meandered through the small camp, but there was little ground to cover between the handful of tents, and everyone seemed to be at least pretending to sleep right now. So he went to find the camp’s patrol and relieve them. The soldier, whose begrudging respect he had been slowly earning, seemed grateful for the chance to sleep instead of pace around their tents. Cloud just nodded in response and stepped away, taking up the patrol.

               It didn’t help his racing thoughts. Patrol didn’t exactly require his full focus, just an absent awareness. He let the sounds of the forest wash over him, certain his training would latch onto anything out of place. His gaze swept the tree-line, and he was equally certain he would notice movement if he saw it. His senses were significantly more enhanced than the rest of his men (save perhaps Vincent), which was why he often took their night patrols anyway. He was simply more efficient at it.

               But the lack of required focus left him turning over the matter of the commanders for hours. Even as he knew dawn was only about an hour off, he couldn’t put the matter aside or find an answer. There was no good solution. He just didn’t have enough information to make a call, much as he didn’t with Sephiroth. It would be far more tedious to gather information on three men than one, but he could do it, if he had to. Or he could ignore them entirely as relatively useless variables; if they didn’t make it into his memory from his own timeline, they wouldn’t impact the events he was concerned about anyway. They would likely sort themselves out. The only real concern he had was whether or not they would interfere with whatever change he was making in this present.

               He was so wrapped in his thoughts that he was certain he missed the first few sounds. But slowly, the sound of footsteps on dried leaves crept into his awareness. He narrowed his eyes and let his gaze find the sound—still too far in the gloom to see, even with his night vision. He changed the angle of his patrol so he would be in the path of the oncoming intruder.

               He stood there, waiting, his hands held loosely at his side. When the man came close enough that he could see his outline in the brush, Cloud started forward at a stroll. No sense in waking his men if he didn’t have to. He could end this quickly and cleanly, no muss no fuss, and get back to his musing.

               The figure slowly becoming clear in the dark was clad in red—or at least, a red coat. It was draped over what appeared to be a SOLDIER First uniform, and that was odd. Cloud remembered only Zack and Sephiroth as Firsts in his own time, but perhaps there were more, this early on. Maybe they had been wiped out in Wutai, and not enough people rose high enough in the ranks to restore their numbers? Maybe this was one of the mystery commanders, considering he was getting away with breaking dress regulations with his coat. The blade in his hand was certainly not regulation (who bothered with coloring their steel?), but then again, Buster and Masamune were the only First Class blades he knew of, and there was no standard between them. Maybe there was no standard at all for their weapons. He couldn’t remember enough to tell.

               It was only the thought that maybe this was one of the commanders that stopped him from rushing forward and ending things before they started. Instead of doing that, he turned at an angle and ran full-tilt into the forest, drawing the man away from the camp. His suspicion that this was either Genesis or Angeal strengthened when the man followed him instead of heading on to the now-undefended camp.

               Cloud was sure to go slow enough to let the man track him; his speed had always been his strength, and it was, to his knowledge, unmatched. He outpaced even Sephiroth when he really tried, but the man made up for it with his superior strength. He waited until he reached an empty clearing before stopping and turning to face the man who continued rushing at him. Cloud sighed (of course it would be a fight) and ducked under the first swing. As he pivoted, he unsheathed First Tsurugi and raised it to block the next.

               The fight that ensued wasn’t so different from his earlier one with Sephiroth. Sephiroth was stronger, faster, his technique a little tighter than this man’s, but that was to be expected—he was the best this timeline had to offer. The fight was less predictable than his one with Sephiroth’s was, though, as he didn’t have this opponent’s style tattooed into his brain. He used magic more than Sephiroth did, casting in the same breath as he swung. It was a little more like Cloud’s own style, interweaving magic like that, though he only bothered when he was being serious or trying to end things quickly. It was engaging in his unpredictability, but not quite enough to make Cloud sweat.

               “Who are you?” Cloud asked; it couldn’t hurt to fish for information, since this SOLDIER was with the fight itself.

               “You don’t know who I am?”

               “Can’t say I do. You got a name?”

               The man let out a furious scoff and flung a fireball into Cloud’s face; he knocked it away with the flat of his blade.

               “Genesis Rhapsodos. I will not let you forget it.”

               So this was one of the commanders. He guessed that made sense; if there was a third person who was this close to keeping up with Sephiroth, it would have spelled trouble.

               Cloud hummed in recognition, sidestepping the thunder spell that struck the ground where he had just been standing.

               “What are you doing here, Genesis?”

               “Is it not obvious? Looking for the man who raised such hell for Sephiroth.”

               Cloud knew it would likely be goading, but he couldn’t help but ask, “Did you think you’d be more successful than he was?”

               The look of poorly constrained fury meant that it was goading, but really, Cloud was just curious. Realistically, Genesis couldn’t have honestly thought he’d win where Sephiroth lost. It didn’t make sense to run headlong into a battle you knew you would lose, even if the plan was what Sephiroth had intended, and his goal was to gather information on Cloud’s style to win down the road. That plan hinged on the idea that Genesis would be able to get out of the fight in one piece to try later. They didn’t know Cloud, had no idea that he preferred not to kill people who did him no wrong, they couldn’t know that he would spare them. That meant the Firsts were so confident in their ability that they thought they would at least be able to escape under their own power. Did Sephiroth forget how simply their own fight had ended? How did he imagine that he hadn’t been let go?

               “I think,” Genesis snapped, drawing his thoughts away, “that your ego could be knocked down a peg.”

               Cloud had always thought himself to be relatively humble; he didn’t brag or talk himself up. He just understood that he was the best there was, at the moment, and he only knew that because he had defeated the last man to claim that title. He thought it was an undeserved rank, that Zack had always been the one who should have been the hero in his shoes, but there had been no one to take his spot. He was simply the most enhanced person alive, with just enough training to make those enhancements useful.

               The only person who claimed he had an ego was Yuffie, and only because she knew reminders of his status made him uncomfortable; she could be like a bratty little sister in that she liked getting under his skin when she could and knew it was harmless. She knew that he would know she was teasing and wouldn’t be actually upset with her. He had only ever confirmed this by sniping back with calm sarcasm. Not even Rufus misunderstood his nature enough to think him proud.

               This was why Cloud snorted a laugh, just enough of his face showing under the helmet to let Genesis read his amusement. It only seemed to aggravate him further.

               “Can’t knock down what’s not there,” Cloud told him, using the flat of his sword to guide away another strike.

               “What’s not—your pride is blinding!”

               “Someone’s projecting,” Cloud chided, using his hand to slap away the next strike; it was even sloppier than the last, in his anger.

               “Projecting? How—”

               That was quite enough of that.

               Cloud twisted his blade around the red one in his opponent’s hand, slipping it from his grasp. He let his hilt go with one hand and brought it down hard on Genesis’s bangle, the hit making it pop open on its hinges and fall to the forest floor with a soft thud. Cloud had Tsurugi against his throat in between one blink and the next, leaving Genesis stunned as he came to an abrupt halt.

               “Listen, Genesis. You don’t know me. You’re not ever going to know me, so don’t keep coming around my camp trying to fish for information, or I’ll make sure you can’t keep coming. Pass the same to Angeal and Sephiroth, alright? If you honestly think I’m going to keep fighting you and let you get away enough that you learn how to predict my attacks, you either think too highly of yourself, or not enough of me. Either way, this is your reality check. Don’t let me catch you around my camp again.”

               When Genesis just glared at him, Cloud sighed impatiently and said, “Tell me you understand.”

               “I understand,” Genesis ground out. He was still absolutely furious. Did the man have another emotion?

               Cloud rolled his eyes behind his helmet, but it was good enough. He sheathed his sword, but before Genesis could dive for his weapon, he cast a sleep spell on him. He was faintly surprised that it worked; he would have thought a commander would have a ribbon, but maybe Shinra didn’t have access to them. They were hard to find and even more expensive to buy, if you actually came across someone who carried them.

               He tucked the red blade into one of the spare sheaths for the smaller fragments of First Tsurugi and reattached the bangle to the SOLDIER’s wrist. He then tossed him over one shoulder (a little comical to see, considering their height difference) and carried him back to Shinra’s camp. He didn’t want to be caught inside the camp, and Genesis was a little annoying, so he aimed carefully and tossed him up in a careful arc. He landed draped over a high tree branch. Cloud imbedded Genesis’s blade in the ground between two roots and headed back to his own camp.

               He probably should have just killed the commander to be safe, but he wasn’t sure what effect that would have, and the stakes were a little too high for reckless decision making. He’d talk to Vincent when he woke up—probably soon, given the way the dawn was starting to creep through the trees. He began the trek back to his own camp and readied himself to assist with breaking it down and moving everything so Genesis wouldn’t be able to lead Shinra back to them.

               Maybe he really should have just killed him, and spared himself the hassle.

Chapter Text

               Cloud moved his camp across the river and a few miles upstream, leaving Vincent behind to cover their tracks. He wasn’t sure if Turk training would cover that, but when he’d made the request, Vincent had just nodded and left to do so. He hoped it would be enough to keep the SOLDIER commanders off their tail.

               Once they were settled, he left camp in Vincent’s hands, and returned to Shinra’s. He watched from a distance as who must have been Angeal stared up at Genesis, still in his tree, his hands on his hips. He seemed to be trying to decide what to do, and he seemed like he’d been there a while.

               Cloud couldn’t help but feel a little amused. It had been a little petty to toss him up there, a humiliating position to find a commander in, but he thought Genesis deserved it. At least a little.

               “Genesis!” Angeal called.

               Genesis began to stir in his tree, slowly and then all at once. It would have been quicker, but Cloud imagined the effects of the sleep spell were still heavy. When his head shot up, he had to grab the branch quickly, because he overbalanced himself, and began slipping off the branch ass-first. He caught himself, the branch in his armpits, and glared down at Angeal.

               “Why the hell am I up here!”

               “Dunno. I was going to ask you that.”

               Genesis scowled, clearly trying to remember, and then let out a sound of utter indignation.

               “That bastard!”

               “You found the mystery man, then?”

               “Yes, and I think he cast a sleep spell on me. He must have put me up here. Do you see Rapier?”

               “It’s in the roots of the tree. Do you need help down?”

               “Shut up, Angeal.”

               Genesis dropped from the tree and plucked the blade that was apparently called Rapier from the ground, sheathing it in one slick move. Angeal just raised an eyebrow at him.

               They started to say something, but then there was the crunch of leaves underfoot next to Cloud, and the only thing that stopped him from lashing out was the familiar scent on the breeze. He was used to smelling Sephiroth (floral, woodsy, sword oil) accompanied by either mako or blood or the rank nastiness that was Jenova. But it was just the man, just the faint hint on the air that he only picked up because of his enhancements.

               He thought it strange that his instinct wasn’t to attack Sephiroth, as soon as he heard him nearby and recognized his smell. Maybe it was because he was used to being at least a little helpless to him, despite the way he always struggled. Maybe it was because he hadn’t made up his mind if he wanted to kill him yet, and knew now that he didn’t pose an actual threat to Cloud’s safety. But, even stranger, Sephiroth didn’t seem to be launching into his own attack. He just settled at Cloud’s side, and when Cloud glanced over, he was in parade rest; his blade wasn’t even drawn.

               “I suppose you put him up the tree?” Sephiroth asked, still watching Genesis storm off and Angeal trail after him, amused.

               “I did.”

               “Any particular reason?”

               “He attacked me. I thought I’d bring him back when we were done.”

               “And the tree?”

               “He was annoying.”

               Sephiroth chuckled, and wasn’t that odd? Because it wasn’t the sinister mirth Cloud was used to. Sephiroth’s laugh had always been smug and a little nasty, like everyone else was an insect under a magnifying glass in the sun, to him, and he was enjoying their squirming. This was just simple human amusement.

               “He is, very often. Why did you remain?”

               “I didn’t. I went to move camp, so don’t bother following his directions to where we were; they won’t do you any good.”

               “Noted. Why did you return, then?”

               “Probably for the same reason you’re talking to me now.”

               “Curiosity?”

               “Trying to understand the enemy, more like.”

               “Essentially the same thing. If you like, you can come into camp, and we can have a proper conversation.”

               “Surrounding me with your camp won’t let you take me down, Sephiroth.”

               “No, I didn’t expect it would. I would be able to escape under such circumstances, and I’ve gathered I should expect more from you than I do from myself.”

               Cloud hummed, and said, “Your men would attack me on sight for my uniform alone.”

               “Hardly. If I set a hand on your shoulder to guide you, they’ll assume you’re a prisoner. They’ll find it odd that I bring you to the officer’s tent, but they don’t question me.”

               Cloud thought that must be effective, as he considered the way his own current troops questioned him incessantly, and the way AVALANCHE had never been afraid to talk back. More effective, maybe, but certainly lonelier.

               “I think I’m fine here, Sephiroth,” Cloud said, turning to face the Shinra General as Angeal and Genesis moved out of sight and back into the camp. Sephiroth turned to face him in return, and they regarded each other; as much as they could, with Cloud’s helmet blocking his face.

               “Very well. Why do you fight for Wutai? Your accent is not Wutaian, and they couldn’t have enhanced you, the way that you clearly are.”

               “Personal reasons. What are Genesis and Angeal to you?”

               “Comrades. Who enhanced you?”

               “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Comrades, not friends?”

               Sephiroth pursed his lips, not wanting to admit to such a thing in front of a stranger, but perhaps if he was honest, the other man would be too.

               “I was given to understand you could be both. Try me; I might believe more than you think.”

               “I don’t think you will, and I don’t want to try you. How many SOLDIER Firsts are there?”

               “If you think I will divulge combat-sensitive information to you, while you refuse to give me anything, you’re incorrect.”

               “My name is Cloud. How many Firsts?”

               “That’s not combat related.”

               Cloud clicked his tongue in frustration.

               “What’s your asking price?”

               “Either of my first questions: your motivations or who enhanced you.”

               “Out of the question.”

               “Then I guess you won’t learn how many Firsts there are.”

               Sephiroth already found the question curious; he thought it was common knowledge that the only three were himself, Genesis, and Angeal.

               Cloud just needed to get some kind of bead on where Zack was, any sort of clue, but didn’t want to risk bringing him up by name.

               So Cloud defaulted to the oldest line he had; one so old, it hadn’t even been his, at first.

               “Mako is the life-blood of the Planet, and Shinra is killing her by sucking her dry. Fighting here is the best way to help stop that.”

               Sephiroth, oddly enough, looked disappointed in this idea.

               “You’re one of those ecological fanatics?” His tone said that he found such an idea distasteful.

               When he’d first joined AVALANCHE, he would have agreed. The Lifestream was a religious idea and none of Cloud’s business, at the time. He was too practical, too interested in the day-to-day and his own benefit to see the bigger picture. But then he’d spent enough time with AVALANCHE, and he’d let Bugenhagen explain the details to him, and now that he understood they were essentially burning the souls of all living things on the planet, he felt a little differently about the matter.

               “You’re too wrapped up in Shinra to even understand why being an ‘ecological fanatic’ isn’t a bad thing, and I pity you for that.”

               He didn’t say that he was that way too, once.

               But Sephiroth visibly bristled. Pity was the one thing he didn’t tolerate.

               Before Sephiroth could protest aloud, however, Cloud said, “How many Firsts?”

               “Three.”

               “Including you?”

               “Obviously including me. Angeal and Genesis as well. Did you really not know that, or is this some game?”

               Cloud couldn’t help the smile that curled on his lips.

               “Not where I come from.”

               “Which is?”

               “More information than you’ve traded for.”

               “It’s somewhere on the Western Continent, by the mountains, if I had to guess. That town where they’re starting the rocket?”

               “Do you always have to pry?”

               “It’s best to work with as much information as possible.”

               “Then you understand my reluctance to give it to you. Goodbye, Sephiroth.”

               Sephiroth pursed his lips, clearly put out, and showing much more on his expression than Cloud was used to.

               “Goodbye, Cloud.”

               He didn’t curl Cloud’s name around his tongue, the way Cloud was used to hearing from his Sephiroth. He didn’t try to savor it, try to drink down the taste of it like he could never get enough. He said it clearly and simply, as if they were total strangers; and, he supposed, that’s all they were in Sephiroth’s eyes. Just two men on opposite sides of a line.

               Cloud was glad for his helmet, then, the way it must have hid his expression. He knew he looked bewildered, and a little perturbed, because this wasn’t what he was used to, at all. He’d known, logically, that this Sephiroth would be quite different. That’s why he was willing to give him a chance in the first place. It was still something entirely different to see it firsthand. He thought he might feel strange for a week.

               He just turned and left, making his way back to his own camp in silence.

               He heard, now that he knew to listen, as Sephiroth’s footsteps trailed away back toward the camp. He didn’t know what conversation he was going to have with Angeal and Genesis when he got back, and at the moment, Cloud didn’t care. He was thrown enough by his own interaction that such a thing was too much for him to worry about right now.

               If Vincent looked at him knowingly when he got back, neither of them said anything about it.

Chapter Text

               Cloud was in an unfamiliar position.

               Even more than when he first arrived, he didn’t know what to do about Sephiroth.

               He was used to running blindly after the man. No matter where he was, that was where Cloud had to be; everything else could come second. He had to be stopped, one way or another, and it couldn’t wait. Even when he’d gotten here, Cloud had only taken care of what was on his way to Sephiroth, not able to justify any other stops. Even once he got to Wutai, he’d tracked the man down immediately. He lurked around his camp eavesdropping, knowing he had to make a decision, but also aware that he didn’t have enough information to do so.

               But now they’d had a conversation, a proper one, and Cloud was shaken. Arguably, he was most disturbed by the way Sephiroth had said his name. There had been hints in everything from his uniform, to his hairstyle, to the baby fat around his cheeks, that this was not his Sephiroth. But nothing cemented it like the indifferent way he’d addressed him. He had never addressed Cloud directly before the reactor, and he never said his name without fascination after it. He couldn’t parse the two versions of the man. He didn’t know what to make of what he was seeing, because it was so foreign to him.

               It made him stall. He stopped going to Shinra’s camp, despite the way that it was always easy to find—it was huge, and they covered their tracks poorly. He knew he was stalling, that he still needed to come to a decision, that, if Sephiroth needed to be eliminated, it was better to do it as soon as possible. But, he reasoned, Nibelheim didn’t happen until years after the war. Even if the worst was going to come, he had time. There was no real reason to rush.

               (He was absolutely avoiding Sephiroth because he was plain old freaked out by the differences. Sue him.)

               That didn’t mean he abandoned his post. He understood that there were more tactical locations he could move, if he really wanted to bring the war to a swift end. But he also knew that leaving the three Firsts unchecked was a bad idea. They would wreak havoc, and no one on Wutai’s side would be able to keep up with them. He was needed here to balance things out. If he was really, truly serious about winning the war, he could have gone to Shinra’s camp and destroyed it with a high level Quake spell and a few Fire spells to follow. The SOLDIERs would all make it, he was sure, but it would tank their supplies, all their medical personnel, and their troopers. He kept the idea on the backburner.

               In the meantime, he provided a battlefield balance to the Firsts. His team, at this point, had worked with him long enough to understand how their unit was best used in combat. Even if the individual soldiers didn’t know the best plan, Vincent was a quick study, and knew his methods by now; he could lead when they fell into disorder. That left Cloud free to stymy the Firsts.

               Sephiroth was his priority; he always would be. If he was on the field, and not commanding from the sidelines, Cloud found him. He was never hard to spot; he was unnecessarily tall, his hair was like a banner, and the troops fell in front of him in swaths that marked his path clearly. Cloud always turned up in front of him before long, and it was always a repeat of their initial battle.

               Sephiroth tried every trick he knew, and even a few moves he made up on the spot. Unfortunately, even those new ones were tricks his future self had used, which meant they were equally predictable to Cloud, and even easier to block, because Sephiroth hadn’t fully mastered them yet. Cloud never once went on the offensive. He was just a rock in Sephiroth’s path, never moving out of the way and impossible to wear down.

               After so long of this, they tried ganging up on him. Genesis must have insisted on trying first, because he was the next one to join the fray. Cloud still had a little difficulty predicting him, with the unfamiliarity of his style, but it wasn’t enough that he had to break First Tsurugi from one piece. He handled the two, though he did so with less ease than he handled Sephiroth alone. It wasn’t quite as challenging as dealing with the Sephiroth he was used to, but it was a closer level.

               There was a little while of this, before they switched, Angeal replacing Genesis, because someone had to command the troops, which meant all three couldn’t fight him at once. Angeal was significantly easier to fight than Genesis, but not for the reason he expected. He fought alarmingly like Zack, whose style Cloud had stolen enough of to make the way Angeal fought not unlike his own. He had enough borrowed movements that he’d gotten from Sephiroth and tricks he had made up himself that it wasn’t quite the same, but his movements were familiar. They were almost like the groundwork Zack’s technique was laid on, and Zack’s had been his own foundation. But he didn’t know of any connection between Zack and Angeal, or why they would fight so alike in the first place.

               Angeal did manage to get a single hit on Cloud, when he first arrived in the fray. It was because he was so alarmed at seeing the Buster Sword in another man’s hands that it was like he had seen a ghost.

               He was incredibly sloppy through that entire fight, just barely keeping up, because his mind was whirling. How did Angeal get the Buster Sword, when he had always known it to be Zack’s blade? What was Zack fighting with? There had to be some kind of connection between them, between their fighting styles and the blade they apparently shared, but Cloud couldn’t imagine what it was. Furthermore, Angeal wasn’t even using it right. He used the flat of the blade almost exclusively, until he finally turned fully serious toward the end of the fight, when he tried to press the advantage of Cloud’s disorientation.

               That had broken Cloud free from his state, because when he used the actual blade, his style was so like Zack’s that fighting it required no thought at all.

               The next time they met on the battlefield, it was Sephiroth and Angeal together again, as they seemed to think this would give them an advantage. But now Cloud had gotten the time to come to terms with the strangeness that was Angeal—the invisible tie he had to Zack didn’t matter, the familiarity of Buster and the style would only be an asset, once he got his head out of his ass. It was time to take advantage of what he knew instead of letting old ghosts haunt him.

               When he fought them again, it was a breeze. He was fighting two men whose combat styles he knew inside and out, who wielded the two blades he knew better than any others, save perhaps his own. It was all so familiar that he could have done it in his sleep. They both seemed surprised and frustrated by the sudden and complete turnaround, but had no real way to combat it.

               From there, they swapped off and on, whether it would be Angeal or Genesis who joined Sephiroth. They hoped that keeping Cloud on his toes would make him slip at some point, but he was too well trained and too accustomed to fighting more difficult enemies.

               He didn’t understand that they were biding their time.

               He would have found out sooner, if he was still eavesdropping at their camp. But he was still stalling after the strange conversation he’d had with Sephiroth and unwilling to risk a repeat. He wished, now, that he’d forced himself to go anyway. It would have been better than the nasty shock he’d gotten.

               When he arrived on the battlefield, he tracked down Sephiroth much the way he always did. Genesis joined not long after, and this wasn’t very surprising, either. What was strange was that Angeal also entered the fray, making Cloud wonder who had been left in charge of the troops.

               He didn’t have much attention to spare, however. The three were all good in their own right, fantastic really, and their teamwork was beyond solid. The way they flowed around each other with breathless ease that reminded him of himself fighting with AVALANCHE. He had to actually work to keep up with them. He needed to disengage a second blade, if for no other reason than to keep up with the sheer number of swords coming at him. Pulling out another sword had bought him a moment of time, as none of them had been expecting the move, and it turned out that he needed that moment more than they did.

               His eyes had been flickering around the battlefield, trying to pick out a SOLDIER Second uniform that was leading or commanding in some way. Someone had to take the helm while these three were occupied, and they wouldn’t let anyone less than a Second do it.

               He hadn’t expected that, when he finally found the new CO, it would be Zack.

               He’d almost dropped his weapons in his shock. He hadn’t expected to see him. He hadn’t thought he was in Wutai. But here was, alive and whole, grinning that familiar, broad grin that all but stopped Cloud’s heart to see. A thousand memories, some half-forgotten, flashed through him at the sight. His breath caught in his throat. He’d known, abstractly, that Zack was alive somewhere, but it was another thing to see it. And to see him so young, without that beaten-but-not-broken, come-and-get-it attitude he’d had toward the end, that said he’d fight tooth and nail for any scrap he had left and you’d have to kill him before you could take from him. He was young, and vibrant, and laughing as he fought, and didn’t seem tarnished yet, like the world hadn’t shown him how nasty it could be, despite the fact that he was in the middle of a war. But, then again, he guessed it hadn’t—the labs hadn’t gotten him yet.

               He was snapped out of his reverie by the familiar feeling of Masamune piercing him, accompanied by a fire spell smacking into his helmet and knocking it clear off his head.

               When he looked over, Sephiroth looked more shocked than Cloud was to have a hit finally land. Cloud, now that Sephiroth could see him, didn’t look surprised at all, just exasperated. It was an intimately familiar position for Cloud to be in, after all. It was far from the first time Masamune had speared him, and he sincerely doubted it would be the last.

               He grabbed the blade and pulled it from him, knocking Sephiroth off balance in the process, and reentered the battle with an urgency he didn’t have before. For the first time, he began interweaving spells into his combat, the way he only ever bothered to do when he was fighting Sephiroth, or so surrounded by high level monsters that it would have been hopeless otherwise. He didn’t bother disengaging more of his swords (it would be difficult to keep track of them all on a battlefield with so many combatants), but two blades with his spellwork was enough. The little ground the Firsts had gained in getting accustomed to how he fought was dashed by this new inclusion, and they were retreating earlier than he expected.

               Cloud didn’t bother with his helmet—there was no point in it, now. They had seen him, seen his blond hair and mako eyes, and it might buy him a second more time in hiding if he had a helmet, but First Tsurugi had given him away the second they learned to look for it. No, the helmet wasn’t important right now. What was important was getting the ever-living hell out of there.

               Cloud bolted in a way he hadn’t since he arrived. This was the way he fled Seventh Heaven in Edge, when affection and his responsibilities became so cloying they choked. This was the way he fled when he was chased by nightmares he couldn’t forget and didn’t know how to ignore. This was the way he fled for Fenrir before throwing himself on and racing away, his heart racing in his ears, making up excuses about imaginary deliveries because, maybe if he kept moving, the past wouldn’t catch up with him.

               The past was catching up with him now, in every way he had dreaded since he arrived.

               Cloud ran blindly. He didn’t keep track of where he was going, what direction he was headed, what landmarks he passed. If he was someone who spent any less time in the wilderness, he would have no prayer of getting back to camp once he settled, but he trusted his instincts enough to let that concern go by the wayside. He focused only on pumping his legs as fast as they would go, the burning in his lungs, and the rushing of blood in his ears.

               Zack was here. Zack was here, in Wutai, and Cloud didn’t know if he was meant to be here or not at this point in the timeline. If he had changed things enough that they’d brought him early, then his safety wasn’t guaranteed. If the timeline had changed that much, then he couldn’t be certain he’d survive the war, and if Zack died, it would crush him. He didn’t know if he’d be able to do what Gaia sent him here to get done. He didn’t think he could bear watching Zack die twice, especially not this version, so young and hopeful with the stars in his eyes. This Zack he felt a crushing need to protect, from everything and anything, at all costs. He had half a mind to put aside all his other pursuits just to guard the man and be sure he came to no harm.

               And that was foolish. Because, even if he was young and less experienced and not wielding the Buster Sword, this Zack was still a SOLDIER. He was a warrior who could defend himself, who was high enough ranking to be fourth in line for command. He didn’t need Cloud, but Cloud needed him, needed him alive and healthy and whole, and he didn’t know what would happen if he saw Zack go down, just that it wouldn’t be good for anyone.

               So Cloud set his mind on the only course of action still available to him. Zack was in Wutai now, and Cloud felt, arguably, more protective over him than a mother Nibel dragon felt over her young. The best way to be sure that Zack made it out of Wutai was to end the war as quickly as possible.

               No more stalling. No more dallying, or waiting, or weighing options. He was pulling out the stops, going to do anything he could think of to bring the war to a swift close.

               Zack wasn’t going to die on his watch.

Chapter Text

               Cloud had known, months ago, that if he really wanted to end the war quickly, there were more strategic locations for him to be in. He had also known, though, that leaving the Firsts unattended was asking for disaster. These two things couldn’t be dealt with at the same time, but he did his best.

               Cloud was, largely, leaving his troops in Vincent’s hands now. When on the battlefield proper, he was occupied with the Firsts, all three of them now, and had no hope of dividing his attention. When he wasn’t on the battlefield, or grabbing the scant handfuls of sleep he needed to keep going, he was elsewhere. He went as far afield as he could make it and return by dawn, and when you considered his running speed and endurance, that ended up being quite a distance. He hit a multitude of Shinra camps, wrecking them. He destroyed their supplies, their supply lines, their equipment and weapons and vehicles. He broke their radios and did everything short of killing their chocobos because, after raising them for so long, he didn’t have the heart to do it, no matter how beneficial it would be for his cause.

               There were fewer and fewer battles, now. Shinra was scrambling to get their legs back beneath them, and Cloud kicked them out from under them every chance he got. He was a one-man army, as much or more so than Sephiroth was, and he had no one telling him to follow orders or the proper way to win a war. Godo had tried giving him orders at the beginning, but Cloud had always ignored them, and when it became clear that his way worked, Godo stopped bothering. Especially now that it was starting to look like the war would come to an end sooner than anyone anticipated.

               Cloud knew that the Shinra leaders had to be in a panic. Good. He wanted them unbalanced and seeing unclearly, because that meant they would make rash decisions. Hopefully, a rash decision like calling for peace negotiations before they actually needed to. He was aware that there would be some panicked strikes back, before that happened, but they could compensate.

               The unfortunate thing was that Shinra decided to follow his lead. The SOLDIER Firsts were being sent out to destabilize Wutai’s camps the way he was doing to theirs. This wasn’t a huge issue; Cloud just split his time. He stopped hitting Shinra camps as often, and spent more time guarding Wutai’s. It meant he had more clashes with the Firsts, but he was largely indifferent to them, now.

               Sephiroth seemed to delight in finding Cloud there instead of an undefended camp. He enjoyed going up against someone stronger than him; they both knew he hadn’t had a proper challenge in quite a while. Genesis’s initial fury dimmed the more times they went against one another, as he too seemed to take it as a learning opportunity, a chance to grow his skills by fighting against a stronger combatant.

               Angeal didn’t bother. He saw Cloud in front of the camp and knew he wouldn’t be able to get anything done; he even seemed a little relieved to not have to wipe out a camp, and that was a strange sentiment, from a SOLDIER. He didn’t bother fighting Cloud, as he had no burning desire to be the best, and no desperate longing for a challenge—he had Sephiroth for that, if he wanted one. He waved lazily at Cloud when he saw him and turned back the way he came.

               This left Wutai and Shinra in a strange dance. Their formal battles tended to go nowhere; their best operatives were tied up against one another, and those left leading the troops were of about the same quality. Vincent’s command balanced out Zack’s, making it a toss-up who won outright scuffles. The real damage was being done in the dead of night by their best trained warriors, or warrior (in Wutai’s case). Wutai’s progress had slowed once the Firsts began hitting camps, but it continued to outpace Shinra’s.

               Cloud was more willing to neglect his body’s needs. The Firsts hadn’t come up against true necessity, as of yet. They didn’t, with perhaps the exception of Sephiroth as a result of the labs, know the real limits of their enhancements. As Cloud chased Sephiroth around the globe in his own time, he had learned his. He knew exactly how much food and water he needed, exactly how much sleep he had to get before he dropped, and he had the motivation to go on the bare minimum. He had to protect Zack, now. This was urgent, and it couldn’t wait. He wouldn’t draw things out for creature comforts. The Firsts, while they wanted to win, were not quite so motivated. They weren’t desperate the way Cloud was.

               Wutai was outpacing Shinra in its progress, but by a small margin, because of the way Cloud was tied up with defending camps. It helped some when he talked Vincent into helping defend; he was well aware that the gunman was at least equivalent to a First.

               He probably should have expected their next move. After all, it made a certain amount of sense. But it was something he was so reluctant to even consider that it blindsided him when it happened.

               Cloud returned from a camp raid with two hours until dawn. It was enough time for him to drop to his bedroll in his tent, catch those few hours, and then head out with the light for another battle. He was nearing his limit with his need for sleep, after all, and it was better to catch what he could when he had the opportunity. He smelled of smoke from the fires he had lit, and his face and hair were sooty. He had stopped bothering with his helmet once Genesis had knocked it off his head in the battle when he first saw Zack. He was grateful to not have it anymore; it had limited his vision.

               When he came wandering back into camp, he was fighting back a yawn and scrubbing a hand over his face, uncaring for how he smudged the ash there. He’d wash it off before he slept. His exhaustion narrowed his attention down to tunnel vision; he only had eyes for his tent. He’d nearly gotten inside it before he heard Vincent call his name. He sighed and turned, making his way back to the center of camp, where he’d heard Vincent’s voice come from.

               He made it most of the way there before he froze mid-step.

               Next to the campfire, Vincent was standing with his arms crossed, staring down at one Zack Fair, who was sitting on the ground, his hands tied behind his back with a length of rope that they all knew he could break out of if he really wanted to.

               Cloud almost got himself moving when Zack turned to look at him. He gave him a wide smile, as if they were old friends instead of enemies on opposite sides during a war, and Cloud’s heart stopped in his chest. He was relatively sure he kept his face schooled, but he wished for his helmet anyway, because surely something must have slipped, and Zack was a master at reading people.

               He had the ghost of Zack’s laughter in his ears, the word “Spike” echoing not long after, and Cloud swallowed hard.

               It took physical effort to get his feet moving again, but he did it. He marched over and knelt down behind Zack, pulling the rope apart with his hands. They had all known it was a formality, but seeing Zack tied up was giving him double-vision of the labs, and he wouldn’t stand for it. As Zack rubbed his wrists and flashed him a grateful smile, Cloud carefully regulated his breathing and went to stand beside Vincent. He just hoped the crackle of the fire was loud enough Zack’s enhanced hearing wouldn’t pick up the way his heart raced.

               “He came to hit the camp,” Vincent explained as Cloud fell in line beside him, but Cloud was already shaking his head.

               “He came to talk.”

               Zack blinked up at him, laughed brightly and tilted his head, still grinning.

               “How did you guess that?”

               Because I know you, and you always tried to talk your way out of trouble, Cloud thought, burying his emotion in a sigh.

               “Because they would have sent a First for a raid, especially if they knew this was my camp. I just don’t know how they imagine you’ll get anywhere with words.”

               Cloud did know how they came to that conclusion. Zack could talk a Marlboro around to his side, if given half a chance. Sephiroth had no such skill, Genesis was abrasive, and Cloud hadn’t talked to Angeal, but he didn’t imagine he was that much better. Sephiroth, for one, was a military genius; he would know that it was just a matter of time before Shinra would lose. He was going to use every trick he had up his sleeve before admitting defeat, but it was fast approaching, now that Cloud was serious. He didn’t know that he had sent Cloud’s biggest weakness to him, and he couldn’t let him know that.

               Zack winked at him, and Cloud got double-vision again, replaying a dozen joking winks he’d been given. It took physical effort not to shake his head to clear it.

               “Try talking to me and find out.”

               Every bone and muscle and sinew in Cloud yearned for that. He wanted nothing more than to indulge, to sit down with Zack and talk about literally anything. He wouldn’t even mind if it was the war. He’d happily describe all his plans, all his next-steps, outline exactly how he planned to win the war, if it just gave him a chance to hear Zack’s voice. He would give damn near anything to just breathe the same air again. Zack was the brother he’d never had, his best friend, his savior, and he could never repay the debt he owed this man. He wanted to do everything in his power to start trying to pay him back, though, give him any and everything he had, anything that might make him keep smiling like that. This was the smile he remembered from Shinra, not the one he remembered from the labs or from after. Those had been hard, bitter, sarcastic, half-snarls some of the time; those were equally precious, but these made Cloud sentimental. These stirred every protective instinct he had.

               And that was what had Cloud giving Zack a flat, “No.”

               Zack blinked in surprise and said, “No?”

               “No,” he reiterated. “I have nothing to say. Get out of my camp.”

               If he indulged Zack, indulged himself, he would give away everything. And, despite how good it would feel in the moment, despite how it might meet Zack’s wishes in the short term, he couldn’t allow what it would do in the long run. If he gave Zack anything that risked him winning the war, he was putting Zack in greater danger. If he wouldn’t die in the war, he was risking sending him back to the labs after. To lose the war was to risk failing not only Zack, but the mission Gaia had given him. He couldn’t let Nibelheim and everything that happened after come to pass. A little wish fulfillment wasn’t worth that kind of risk. And, besides, Cloud was used to denying himself the things he wanted.

               Zack stood, but gave him the kicked puppy look that worked on absolutely everyone.

               Cloud only hardened, his face and eyes going dead, as he cut himself off from his emotions, the way he had taught himself when Sephiroth had been in his head and he’d had to separate himself or lose control of his body. Putting up mental barriers was a skill he had developed thoroughly, a talent he was an outright master in, and he built this one as thick as any he had ever put between himself and Sephiroth.

               The kicked puppy look morphed into confusion. Cloud looked pointedly toward the edge of camp and jerked his head that way.

               “But—” Zack started.

               “Out, Zack.”

               Zack sighed and ruffled his hair, reminding Cloud that he was the source of that old nervous tic he used at times, and slowly made his way from the camp, looking over his shoulder every now and again at Cloud, who stared him down until he was out of sight.

               It was only when he had completely vanished into the tree line that Vincent said, “Wasn’t that—”

               “Yeah. That was the Zack.”

               His heart tightened at just the thought.

               He had given Vincent all the details on the future that he had, over the months they had spent in Wutai. He knew the whole sordid affair, and exactly what Zack meant to him.

               “I would have thought you would want to talk to him.”

               Cloud sighed and ruffled his hair, unconsciously mirroring Zack (Vincent picked up on it).

               “Of course I wanted to. But, if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to shut my mouth. I can’t put everything on the line just to have one talk. No matter how bad I want it.”

               There was a long silence, and when he looked up again, Vincent was watching him appraisingly.

               “You would have made a good Turk.”

               Cloud’s nose wrinkled at that.

               “I don’t take that as a compliment.”

               Vincent shrugged.

               “Take it how you like. It’s the truth. Do you understand how many fresh Turks struggle to master themselves, the way you just did? It is the most difficult skill to teach.”

               Cloud scowled and grumbled, “Yeah, way to make me feel great about it. I’m going to sleep—I’ll see you at dawn.”

               He turned his back on the man and went to his own tent, where he scrubbed his face clean with a rag, not bothering with his hair before he tucked himself into his bedroll.

               He had more trouble sleeping than he would have liked.

               He would have had even more trouble sleeping, had he been aware of the conversation occurring at the Shinra camp.

               Zack walked into the officer’s tent, where Genesis, Angeal, and Sephiroth were all waiting, despite the early hour.

               “How did it go?” Angeal asked when he walked in.

               “Weird,” Zack said, ruffling his hair as he dropped into a chair.

               “What is that supposed to mean?” Genesis asked.

               “I mean, first of all, that Cloud guy wasn’t even there when I showed up. It was the gunman in the red cape, you know the one? Leads Cloud’s troops now that you guys keep him occupied?”

               “We’re familiar,” Sephiroth said, setting aside the papers he had been working on.

               “He got the drop on me, and I mean bad. I didn’t even hear him, he was just suddenly there, gun at my head,” Zack said, miming a pistol at his temple with his fingers. “Told me not to say a word and led me back to camp. He tied my arms behind my back with some rope and had me sit, and I mean that’s not a big deal, right? He should know better than to use rope. Obviously I just stayed there, because I was waiting on their leader, but how are you going to tie a SOLDIER up with rope? Everyone knows we can break out of that. But he didn’t even keep the gun on me, just watched me with his arms folded, like he was completely confident he could stop me if I tried to run.”

               “Bizarre, but not the crux of the issue,” Genesis said, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table. “Where was Cloud?”

               “It looked like he went to hit one of our camps; he was sooty when he finally showed up. And it was weird. He saw me and he froze in place, and I swear to you, he looked like he saw a ghost.”

               “Have you met before?”

               “Never. But it gets weirder. He comes over, and he guesses almost immediately that I was there to talk to him; didn’t believe for a second that I was there to raid. He gave some reasoning about how they would have sent you guys instead, but he didn’t even have to pause to think about it, he just knew. I turned on the charm, and I mean hard, full on doe-eyes and everything, and he wouldn’t even consider talking to me. He wouldn’t let me get a word out. But that’s not the weirdest part.”

               “Are you sure?” Angeal said, looking incredulous. “Because that’s weird. I’ve seen you talk Rufus Shinra around, and I’ve never seen someone as stubborn once his mind is made up.”

               “No, get this; he knew my name.”

               “… What?” Genesis said, his fingers freezing in their tapping.

               “Right? I tried one last time before he kicked me out of camp and he just said, ‘Out, Zack,’” Zack said, pitching his voice lower as he mimicked Cloud, whose voice wasn’t actually that deep. “Have you guys mentioned me or something?”

               “No. We’ve barely managed to talk to him—he didn’t know my name, when we spoke, and I had been in Wutai significantly longer than you had by that point,” Genesis said, his brow furrowed in confusion and irritation.

               “Then it really makes no sense,” Zack said. “How the hell could he know that?”

               “Maybe he’s still lurking around camp?” Angeal offered. “That’s where you found him, right, Sephiroth?”

               “I did. I have yet to see him since. I take it that being caught scared him off,” Sephiroth admitted.

               Genesis shook his head, saying, “I maintain he isn’t the type to be scared off by anything. He could look death in the eye and not flinch.”

               “If he could even make eye contact—I didn’t realize how short he is, how does he pull off what he does?” Zack said.

               “Enough mako can make up for pretty much anything,” Angeal said. “The issue with that, is we still don’t know where he got enhanced. But we’ve all seen the glow in his eyes now, it’s clear he has been.”

               “I appreciate a riddle as much as the next man, but this one is particularly vexing,” Genesis said, tapping his fingers again.

               “Zack, try again another night,” Sephiroth ordered. “Perhaps he can be worn down.”

               “You got it,” Zack said. “Not sure it’ll work, though. He seems to have will like iron, even though his heart was racing the whole time.”

               “It what?” Genesis said.

               “Yeah, it was going like it was trying to get out of his chest. I’ve seen nervous cadets meet Sephiroth for the first time and have a slower heart rate. I dunno what that was about.”

               Genesis groaned and put his forehead in his palm.

               “This will never make sense.”

               “Then we’ll have to make it,” Sephiroth said, with such outright conviction, that they believed he’d be able to.

Chapter Text

He should have expected this. 

Cloud stood at the edge of his camp, his hands on his hips, staring down Zack, who was smiling broadly at him and waving as he approached. 

Of course he wasn’t going to just give up. That would be too easy. Cloud’s life never went that smoothly, and he really should have seen this coming, the second he successfully got Zack out of his camp the first time. 

“Go away,” Cloud called as Zack got closer. 

He laughed brightly and said, “See, I don’t think you actually want me to do that.”

Cloud pressed his lips together. He wasn’t that transparent, was he?

“I do,” Cloud lied. “I really, truly do. Get out of my camp.”

“If you wanted me gone, you’d tell me as much with your sword. But it’s still on your back, and your hand hasn’t even twitched toward it.”

Cloud scowled as Zack reached him, propping his hands on his hips, mirroring Cloud, but with a wide grin. 

“Ask your Firsts; they come at me, I don’t rush them.”

A technicality. He didn’t avoid them the way he was avoiding fighting Zack, because he was . The thought of crossing blades with him in a real fight, not the beginner-level training they’d done in Shinra that  he remembered more from Zack’s memories than his own, made his head spin and his stomach turn. 

“Turns out you’ve talked with most of them, too. Maybe let me try?”

“No. Get out.”

“Aw, c’mon, Cloud, what could it hurt?”

Cloud’s head swam dangerously, the words echoing in his ears, pulling up half-buried memories. He didn’t know how many times Zack had used that phrase on him, but apparently, it was a lot. 

“ No , Zack.”

“Y’know, this whole thing’s a little weird. ‘Cause I never told you my name, and the others say they haven’t, either. And you won’t talk to me, but you’ll entertain the others. I do something to you that I don’t remember?”

No, he did something for him that, if Cloud had his way, he would never experience, much less remember. 

He hadn’t realized that Zack hadn’t told him his name. He couldn’t believe he’d made such a large slip. But it did confirm that he needed to end this now, before he gave anything else away. 

“Get out, or I’ll knock you out and drag you back to your camp myself.”

“I’ll just keep coming back to pester you.”

“Then I’ll start casting Sleep spells on sight. I’m not doing this with you.”

“But you’ll do it with the Firsts? It doesn’t make strategic sense for you to leave any of us alive, Cloud, but you have. Why?”

“Just remember that I warned you about the Sleep spells.”

Zack opened his mouth to say something else, but then Cloud cast, and he dropped, almost so fast that Cloud couldn’t catch him. As it was, he had to dive to get an arm under his shoulders in time, and spare him the headache that would have come if his head smacked into the ground. 

He lifted Zack in his arms instead of tossing him over his shoulder, the way he had done with Genesis. He knew he didn’t have to treat Zack delicately; he was intimately familiar with the level of abuse Zack could handle. He’d seen more than enough in the labs to know he didn’t have to be gentle. But he didn’t have the heart to do anything else, so he cradled his once-friend to his chest and carried him back to the Shinra camp. 

Where Sephiroth was standing at the edge, waiting for him. 

Fuck. He should have been smarter than to fall for this. 

As it was, he was here, and committed, and neck-deep in the trap he should have seen coming. So, instead of turning tail, he marched directly up to Sephiroth, and handed Zack over wordlessly. It was very different than when he had tossed Genesis up a tree, and by the look on Sephiroth’s face, they both knew it. 

“I told him, but I’ll tell you the same. Keep sending him, and I’ll deliver him back to you every time. I won’t say anything more to him than I have.”

“Perhaps you’ll say more to me. Come into camp, Cloud. We ought to talk.”

“Unless it’s about your imminent surrender, we don’t have anything to discuss.”

“I’ve spoken to Shinra, and tried to make the writing you’ve put on the wall clear to them. They don’t believe that the conclusion of this is foregone, yet, but it might help speed things along if I know your terms.”

Cloud paused to look at him consideringly as Sephiroth shifted Zack in his arms. 

“You can’t possibly be giving up already.”

“As the only person I have met who has an understanding of warfare that rivals my own, I expect that you know as well as I do that there is no way for me to turn this around.”

Cloud thought that was generous; he had no formal knowledge of warfare. He just knew how to lead a small team and the way Sephiroth thought. But, he supposed, when you were going to war with Sephiroth, that would count for quite a bit. 

“I mean, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d admit to it.”

“I have my pride, but I also have sense. Come into camp so I can put Zack down while we talk.”

Cloud paused, then sighed. He didn’t want to, but if it would help bring things to a close, it was better to do it. He needed this war over, if he was going to keep Zack safe. 

“Fine. But it’ll be you and I, not you, me, Genesis, and Angeal.”

“If you’d like.”

Without another word, Sephiroth turned and led the way back into camp. Cloud trailed him, his eyes skittering over the troopers and SOLDIERs they passed. They clearly recognized him, but when he was following after Sephiroth, they apparently knew not to interfere. 

Sephiroth ducked into a tent, and before Cloud could follow him in, he heard Angeal say, “Gaia, is he alright? I told you this was a bad—oh.”

Cloud made eye contact with him as he entered the tent, dropping the flap behind him. 

“Sleep spell, that’s all,” he explained, watching as Angeal came to take Zack from Sephiroth, checking him over as he did so. He nodded. 

“Thanks. For not hurting him.”

“Have I ever hurt any of you?”

They all knew he didn't mean the scores of Shinra troops, dead by his hand. 

Genesis climbed to his feet, saying, “No, and that’s something we’ve been wondering about.”

Cloud hummed and said, “That sucks. Because I agreed to talk terms alone with Sephiroth, not explain anything to all of you.”

Genesis’s eyes cut to Sephiroth, blazing as they made contact, only flaring brighter with mako as Sephiroth shrugged. 

“You know how little room we have to negotiate. Did you imagine I was going to squander it on something so small?”

“So small— “ Genesis started to snarl. 

“Gen,” Angeal interrupted. “I can’t juggle you and Zack right now. Come on, let’s go.”

“ But—“

“Let’s go .”

Genesis sighed in frustration and disgust before storming from the tent. Angeal trailed after him, nodding briefly at Cloud, who returned the gesture, before he left as well. 

Sephiroth led the way to a table before sitting in one of the chairs, gesturing for Cloud to do the same. He followed suit, dropping into the chair with far less grace. 

“So, why are we talking, when terms should be worked out between Godo and Shinra?” Cloud asked. 

“Because we have far more sense and will be able to reach a reasonable conclusion, that I trust we will both be able to talk our respective superiors into, if we take the time to present it properly.”

“Superior” was a generous word for what Godo was to Cloud; he’d never followed his orders, strong-armed him into being allowed his position in the first place, and still thought of him more as his annoying-but-much-loved friend’s uninterested father than his leader. But he understood what Sephiroth was driving at. 

“Here’s the thing, Sephiroth. I’m not inclined to give Shinra anything, and I don’t have to, because I know I can win this. The body count will be higher if we fight it out, but I’d rather that than give Shinra even nominal control over Wutai, or let them put up a single reactor here.”

“Then give Shinra neither.”

Cloud’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t expecting that. 

“What’s your price, then?”

“Trade yourself for peace.”

Cloud blinked. 

“Excuse me?”

“Shinra knows very little about the details of what is happening, here. But when it is made clear that there is someone able to fight their top three SOLDIERs to a stand-still, who is clearly enhanced despite never having been in their employ, Wutai will matter less to them. You, as a free agent, will be more abhorrent to them than a free nation.”

“You want me to… what, sign myself over to Shinra in exchange for Wutai’s freedom?”

“Exactly.”

Cloud blinked again, then laughed right in Sephiroth’s face. He couldn’t help it, it felt like the sound was yanked out of his chest. 

Because it made sense, didn’t it? For all of them. Shinra gained an asset and removed an incredibly dangerous threat. Wutai got to keep its autonomy. Sephiroth got the subject of his piqued interest, close at hand for study. Cloud got his foot in the door, where he could potentially access both Hojo and Jenova. It was a win-win. Absolutely no one lost. It was better than anything he could have hoped for. 

Except it was so distasteful, so inherently repulsive to him that he could taste bile in the back of his throat, sharp and acidic like mako. The thought of willingly putting himself under Shinra’s thumb made his skin crawl. That he would possibly be subjecting himself to Hojo again? That he would have to follow their orders, work toward their ends, fall in line like a good little SOLDIER? He could feel the collar closing around his neck, a Shinra hand tugging his leash, and it felt like choking. There were few things that disgusted him as much as the thought of willingly submitting to Shinra again. 

But what choice did he have? He had a mission that he couldn’t afford to fail, that everyone he loved and the whole damn world would pay the price for if he couldn’t complete, and this was the best way to see it through. It was the perfect solution, dumped right in his lap. 

His laughter died down to a grin, but it was a feral, knife-edged thing. 

“Fine. But I have conditions.”

Sephiroth raised his brows; clearly, he’d been expecting it to be more difficult than that. He hadn’t thought Cloud would be the type to submit so easily, given the way he refused to ever give ground, but maybe he’d gotten the wrong impression. 

“I’m listening.”

“I reserve the right to refuse to answer any question they ask, and under no circumstances will I work with Professor Hojo.”

Sephiroth hadn’t thought that name was common knowledge to anyone outside Shinra, but, given that Cloud was enhanced, he supposed it made a certain amount of sense. 

“You must understand that Shinra will have a significant amount of questions they’ll want answered.”

“That’s exactly why I’m telling you now that I’m going to refuse some of them. I’ll answer what I can, but some things are my own business.”

“They’ll threaten to go back to war, once they have you secured, if you refuse to cooperate.”

“If they force my hand, and I have to escape by force, I will tear the Tower down on my way out. They have to understand that. I will walk into the lion’s den, but they have to acknowledge what they’re taking home with them.”

“They will be confident they can hold you.”

“Just because they can hold you doesn’t mean they can hold me.”

Cloud, privately, knew that they could. If they got him in a mako tank, it was all over. Fortunately, he knew the exact situation he needed to avoid. 

Sephiroth felt ice slide down his spine, that Cloud seemed to know that Shinra had ever held him against his will. 

“You understand why they won’t believe that.”

“Then make them. Or don’t, I don’t care. I’m not saying I’ll break out immediately. They can interrogate me first; I’ll play along. When they see it won’t work, they’ll escalate, and I’ll let them, until they press too far, and I put my foot down. When it comes to that, it will be on you to make them see sense. Do whatever you need to, to talk them around into giving up. When that time comes, remember this talk, and this warning, or I’ll remind you the hard way when I tear everything out from under you.”

Sephiroth paused to consider him, but Cloud was clearly serious. Whether or not he actually could fulfill that promise was up for debate, but he was obviously certain he could. He nodded. 

Changing tact, he said, “Every SOLDIER sees Professor Hojo once a month for their mako injections. You will be inducted into the program; there’s nowhere else for you to go.”

“I don’t care. I won’t see him. I don’t need maintenance injections, but I’ll allow them, so you can make Shinra feel like they got something from me.”

“Hojo gives the injections.”

“It’s a shot. I’m sure any nurse or lab tech could give it.”

“He’s the only—“

“Let me rephrase. You’ll find someone else to give it, if you want me to get them.”

“He’ll want to examine you to understand your enhancements. It would go a long way to getting Shinra to drop their questions if you allowed it.”

“Do you really, honestly think I give a damn what he wants? Find a standard doctor, one from the infirmary, and I’ll allow a physical. And I mean a physical , that’s it . No bloodwork. No needles. And now you can tell Shinra I compromised on two whole things.”

Sephiroth sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. 

“You aren’t making this a very easy sell for me.”

“ Please . You give them that dead-eyed stare and talk real serious and I’m sure you could convince them that the end of the world was about to fall from the sky.” And that sounded a bit too much like Zack’s humor, which meant this conversation was getting to him enough that he was starting to fall back on the old comfort of the SOLDIER’s personality, which meant he needed to get out of here before he started borrowing his mannerisms and raising questions he couldn’t answer. It was just lucky that Sephiroth didn’t know the future event he was referencing with his irreverent humor, and wouldn’t understand exactly how bad his taste with that joke had been. 

“Either you overestimate me, or underestimate how stubborn Shinra can be.”

“I think I’ve got a pretty good read on them both,” Cloud said, climbing to his feet abruptly. “We good here?”

“It would help me sell this to Shinra, if Wutai capitulated on something.”

“No. Wutai stays autonomous, and reactor-free. They’re getting me, and that’ll have to be enough for them. If you need help selling them on how huge that is, you let me know, and I’ll raise enough hell to convince them.”

Sephiroth huffed something that might have been a laugh, looking incredulous. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you are incredibly stubborn?”

“Once or twice. I’m leaving now—and don’t send Zack back to me, thinking that this conversation changes anything. He’ll get Sleep spelled on sight like I promised.”

“You know, between Zack and myself, I am usually the one people are unwilling to talk to.”

“When did I ever promise to make sense?”

Sephiroth huffed again, and that was a laugh, wasn’t it? Cloud had never heard that sound from him before; his laughter had always been clear, and mocking. 

“We will carry on as usual, but I will let you know when I have word from Shinra. Speak to Godo. I will come to your camp when I have news; tell your gunman not to shoot on sight.”

“Don’t act like you can’t dodge bullets.”

“I can, but he has the unfortunate ability to account for my speed, and aims where I will be, instead of where I am.”

“Stop being predictable with where you’re going, then,” Cloud said, despite knowing this was an unreasonable demand; Vincent could read anyone’s movements in the blink of an eye. 

“Go,” Sephiroth said, a strange thread of amusement in his voice. “And send Angeal and Genesis in on your way out; they’ve been eavesdropping for a while.”

There was the annoyed click of a tongue and a scoff from outside the tent, quickly followed by an amused chuckle. 

Cloud rolled his eyes but headed out of the tent without a formal goodbye. He paused just outside of it to make eye contact with the lieutenants, who, sure enough, were waiting by the flap. He jerked his head toward the tent, and Genesis scowled but went inside. Angeal smiled at him, friendly enough, before following his comrade inside. 

Cloud made his way from the camp, vaguely surprised that no one attacked him as he left. No one even tried to tail him as he went back to his own camp, which left him wondering if Sephiroth informed his troops of his peace-talk plans, or if they just trusted their general that blindly. Given his own attitude toward the man when he’d been a trooper, Cloud could guess at which it was. 

He didn’t bother informing Vincent of what had happened, or rushing to talk to Godo; there would be time later. For now, he went to try and catch some sleep. Even the thought of what he had agreed to exhausted him, and if it actually came to pass, he got the feeling he would need the rest, more than he’d needed it for the entire war. 

Chapter Text

“Shinra wants to what?”

Cloud sighed. This was why he hadn’t been looking forward to this. 

“Not Shinra, Sephiroth. He’s going to try and talk Shinra into taking me in exchange for Wutai’s freedom.”

“And they would find that acceptable because?”

“Because they don’t like someone like me not being a part of the company.”

“Someone like you?”

“Enhanced and good with a sword.”

“I see. And Wutai will not have to capitulate on anything?”

“Sephiroth agreed to autonomy and no reactors, and he’s going to talk to Shinra. You’ll have to haggle them down so they can save face but that should be what they’ll agree to. They’ll just hope you won’t think that’s something you’ll actually get from them.”

“I’ll handle it. I just have one question: why are you willing to trade yourself? You aren’t from this country.”

“I have my reasons.”

Godo sighed impatiently and said, “Do you ever explain yourself?”

“Not if I can help it. Goodbye, Godo. Tell me when the talks are done so I know when to stop.”

He didn’t want to say stop fighting. He’d be in the middle of the Tower and still fighting, it just wouldn’t be with his sword. 

He didn’t wait for agreement. He just hung up. Then he sighed and looked at the flap of his tent, frowning. He was out of things to stall with. He had to go get it over with.

He got up, went outside, and tracked down Vincent. When he found him cleaning Cerberus, he didn’t say anything, just waited until Vincent looked up. When he finally did, he jerked his head to the side before he started walking, knowing Vincent would follow. He led him to his own tent; there was no officer’s tent with such a small group. Once they were inside, he turned to face his friend. 

“Sephiroth and I have had peace talks.”

Vincent blinked at him and said, “What conclusion did you come to?”

“Wutai won’t give up anything; I’m handing myself over in exchange. With a few limits attached, which I know they’ll test.”

“Do you know what to expect?”

“Forced induction into SOLDIER, everything will be tapped, bugs everywhere I go frequently, interrogation, probably an attempt to surprise me with Hojo because I told them I wouldn’t see him. That sound about right?”

“Largely. Have you been interrogated by Turks before?”

“No, but I don’t think they can do much worse than Hojo when no one’s monitoring him to keep him in line. Unless I’m wrong?”

Vincent shook his head and said, “The tactics will be different, but the effects will not. They are unlikely to keep you for four years, either.”

“Finally, Shinra clearing a low bar. What will you do while I’m there?”

“How will you move forward while so heavily monitored?”

“I’ll have to be careful, but being in the Tower will let me at Hojo, and probably Jenova. I’ll be doing recon at first, but when I move it’ll be right before I run out of there.”

“I see. How can I help?”

“There’s options. You could rejoin the Turks and help me gather info, but I don’t think you want to do that. You could keep an eye on Sephiroth whenever he’s out of the Tower. Track down Jenova if I can’t find her. Assassinate your choice of the Board to give me a diversion to cover when I make my move, just please don’t pick Reeve. There’s the Ancient I told you about, you could keep an eye on her, make sure nothing happens—but I should warn you, the Turks are watching her already. Your pick.”

“You aren’t going to assign me?” Vincent said, half-confused and half-amused. 

“I’m not your boss, and I definitely am not going to give you orders. Pick what you’d like, or something else you can think of that’d be helpful, just let me know what you decide.”

“I can tell you now that rejoining the Turks will be the last choice.”

Cloud nodded easily and said, “Thought as much. Going back to Shinra sure isn’t my first pick.”

Vincent nodded, very much understanding that sentiment, and grateful he wasn’t in Cloud’s position. He felt vaguely guilty about being spared while Cloud walked into a nightmare, but he was sure to add to his pile of sins if he returned to the Turks, and the idea was abhorrent. 

It seemed that Cloud understood, at least somewhat. It remained incredibly odd to have someone who seemed to understand him so well, who could read his intent and his expression without effort. It made his skin crawl at times, that someone he didn’t know understood him so well. But Cloud had yet to show any ill intent, and his in depth knowledge about his mannerisms and nature was half of what sold his “from the future” story. The people who knew him well enough to give him that information were either dead or on Cloud’s hit list, so it was clear he didn’t get the information from them. His future-self apparently vouched for Cloud, and that was something he was inclined to trust. 

Again, he seemed to understand too much: he knew that Vincent’s end of the conversation was over and left the tent without further conversation. He watched Cloud’s back until the flap of the tent hid it from view. Then he stared at the canvas in thought. 

Cloud walked away, exhausted but unwilling to stop. He figured he’d give Sephiroth a few days before checking in, and until he got word, it was business as usual. The sun was starting to set, which meant he double checked his equipment and left to find some more camps to wreck. 

He was going to give Sephiroth a week, but it had only been four days when Cloud was roused from his mid-day attempt at sleep by the sound of gunfire. It was continuing, which made him think it wasn’t Vincent shooting, but it also didn’t sound rapid enough to be a machine gun, like the others had. He hurried out of his tent, not worried that he was in his uniform combats and a smudged tank top that matched the ash still in his hair. He grabbed his blade and ran for the sound of the shots. 

He skidded to a halt when he saw what was happening. Then he busted out into a laugh and rested Tsurugi’s tip in the dirt. It didn’t stop the fight, but Cloud didn’t find this urgent. He took his time approaching and putting a hand on Vincent’s shoulder and his blade on his back. 

“It’s fine, I’ve got it,” he said as Vincent glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He took one last shot and lowered Cerberus. 

Cloud looked over and grinned at Sephiroth, who had been blocking the shots with his blade, and apparently didn’t find this as funny. 

“I see you learned to stop trying to dodge.”

“I see you didn’t tell him not to shoot.”

“Never said I would. Come on,” Cloud said, nodding in toward the camp. Sephiroth sheathed his sword, looking warily at Vincent, who just blinked placidly back at him. 

Cloud led them through camp toward his tent, having to intervene more than once as one of his men rushed Sephiroth. Most could be stopped with words, but twice he needed to step in the middle and deftly flip the oncomer onto their back. When he told them to back off that time, they listened. 

He held the tent open for Sephiroth and followed him inside. 

“They don’t seem to give you the respect you deserve.”

“They respect me most of the time, they just really hate you. And they respect me, they don’t cower or idolize me in turns the way your troops do with you.”

Sephiroth stood in the middle of the tent, though he had to duck his head and curl his shoulders slightly. Cloud was inclined to make him stay like that, just because the sight was entertaining and further distanced him from the Sephiroth he had known, but that seemed too obviously petty. Instead, he gestured toward the lone chair and stayed standing himself. 

“How do you know how they treat me?”

“Who cares? Do you have word from Shinra?”

Sephiroth sighed, trying and failing to hide how much it irked him that Cloud would give him no straight answers. 

“Yes. They argued extensively, but they eventually agreed. They will attempt to haggle with Lord Godo, but I assume you are already aware of that?”

“Yeah, I warned Godo. He’s not going to fall for it.”

“And I assume you understand that, when you come with us, you will be closely monitored, and likely kept in a cell at first?”

“I figured as much.”

“You don’t seem very concerned about either.”

“Because I’m not. I can handle what they’ll give me.”

“Do you know much about the Turks?”

“Plenty.”

“You understand the lengths they will likely go to in attempt to break you?”

“Yup.”

“And this also doesn’t concern you?”

“Listen, Sephiroth, I appreciate the alleged concern, but no, they aren’t going to break me. I’ll still be around for you to try and pick apart, but you aren’t going to get any further than the Turks. I’ll let you try, because you’re going to no matter what I say, but if you treat me like some sort of plaything” (he couldn’t say puppet, wouldn’t put that word in his head) “I’ll teach you better at the end of my sword. Clear?”

Sephiroth didn’t look ashamed of having been caught in his dubious intentions. He just tilted his head curiously. 

“I wasn’t planning on the latter. How did you know my intention?”

“You’re kinda obvious.”

Sephiroth blinked, but looked incredulous. 

“That’s not something I’ve been accused of before.”

Cloud shrugged, but didn’t explain. He didn’t feel like he owed Sephiroth anything at all, but especially not answers that jeopardized the future for him to have. 

“How long until the peace talks?” Cloud asked, putting an end to the topic. 

“A representative is flying out as we speak. I came mostly to tell you to warn Lord Godo.”

“Who’s the representative?”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, unsure of why Cloud could possibly be asking. 

“A Turk.”

“Which one?”

“Tseng.”

“Ah, figures.” Even if he wasn’t dangerously capable in his own right, they would have sent Tseng for being Wutaian, even if Cloud had never discovered if he was born in the country or in Midgar. 

Sephiroth tilted his head and said, “How does that name mean anything to you?” The individual Turks were not common knowledge: that was the whole point of them. 

Cloud shrugged and said, “Aren’t you tired of asking questions you know I won’t answer?”

Sephiroth sighed and said, “One day, you won’t be able to just refuse to answer. I wonder what you’ll do then.” 

Cloud snorted, but the corner of his mouth tilted up. 

“Yeah, well, we’ll see. I might be able to refuse longer than you think.”

“You are a stubborn man,” Sephiroth conceded. 

“So I’ve been told. How soon is Tseng landing?”

“Another five and a half hours, give or take.”

Cloud stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded. 

“Enough time for Godo to get ready then.”

“Why do you not refer to him as Lord Godo? He is your superior.”

Cloud snorted and tilted his head. 

“In title, maybe. I only listen to him if it suits me.”

Sephiroth blinked at him as if this was an impossible sentiment. And, considering how completely he was under Shinra’s thumb, Cloud supposed it would seem that way to him. He doubted Sephiroth had ever really told Shinra “no” about anything. 

“I… see.”

“So then, cease fire starts now? No point in any last minute bloodshed when a treaty will be signed soon.”

It seemed to do the trick, and brought Sephiroth back to his senses. 

“Agreed. I can’t guess how long the negotiations will take, but when we have word that they’re done, one of us will come to get you.”

“That quick, huh?”

“Shinra will be eager to have you in Midgar. Someone will accompany you back, so there is at least the appearance that you are a controlled prisoner under guard. It will not be me, as I’ll be needed here to organize the retreat, but either of my lieutenants or Zack will be with you.”

Cloud frowned, his nose wrinkling. Fuck, he hadn’t thought about how much harder it was going to be to ignore Zack now. 

“Maybe one of the lieutenants. You guys want it to be believable that the guard can hold me, right?”

“No one in Midgar will recognize you, or know your strength. Zack would be believable.”

Sephiroth said it with a knowing glint in his eye, and that only served to irritate Cloud further. He didn’t like Sephiroth knowing enough about him to know he didn’t want to be around Zack, because that all but guaranteed that it would be Zack accompanying him back to Midgar. He was the most expendable to the war effort, anyway. Damn, but it really was going to be him, wasn’t it?

Choosing not to address that, Cloud said, “I’ll be ready to leave by the time someone comes to get me.”

Sephiroth took that as the end of the conversation and stood, still needing to duck once on his feet. 

“Someone will be by shortly. I suggest you wrap things up and pass the reins to your lieutenant.”

At that, Cloud laughed outright. 

“He’s not my lieutenant.”

“Your second in command, then.”

“We don’t have a hierarchy between us, Sephiroth.”

“He only took command once you were otherwise occupied,” Sephiroth said, confusion clear on his face.

Cloud shrugged and said, “Not everyone prefers being in charge. I just ask him to do things; he’s always free to say no.”

Sephiroth looked skeptical; this was clearly not an organization structure he understood well. For all that he claimed to be friends with Angeal and Genesis, it didn’t seem like they were actually equals. 

Regardless of his opinion, Sephiroth nodded slowly and said, “Then prepare to hand things off to whoever you’d like. I need to go make my own preparations.”

“Worried Tseng’ll stop by and nose around your camp on the way home?”

Sephiroth gave him an odd look again because yes, yes he was; Tseng would absolutely investigate and report while he was here. How could Cloud possibly know that?

Cloud grinned unapologetically at the perplexed look on Sephiroth’s face and nodded toward the exit of the tent. 

“C’mon, let me show you out so no one tries to jump you. War might be over, for practical purposes, but I’d still like my men alive.”

Sephiroth frowned at the topic change, but ducked out of the tent first. Cloud followed soon after and began leading them to the edge of camp, giving each of his soldiers a warning look on his way by. No one rushed them that time, but Cloud expected that was more because word had gone around that Cloud would intervene physically if they tried anything. It certainly wasn’t because there was a sudden tolerance for Sephiroth. 

They got to the edge of camp before Cloud said, “None of mine will come after you. Send someone when you need me.”

Sephiroth nodded, and then turned, making his way back toward his own camp. Cloud watched his progress with his arms folded over his chest. Before Sephiroth disappeared entirely into the trees, Vincent appeared at his side. They watched in silence until Sephiroth was gone. 

They continued staring into the forest as Cloud said, “I have to call Godo. A Turk will be at the capital soon for negotiations. I’ll be leaving not long after.”

“They’ll come to get you, I assume.”

“They sure don’t have my PHS number to call.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Whatever you want. You coming to Midgar with me? I can’t get you there on the transport I’m taking.”

“I’ll make my own way, but I’ll be there.”

“We can delegate breaking down camp. The soldiers will be able to make their way back to their homes on their own when they’re done. When I talk to Godo, I’ll tell him I’m dismissing them when I leave. They’ve done enough for this war.”

Vincent hummed his acknowledgement, but said nothing. Cloud put a hand on his shoulder and turned around, heading back to his camp to do as he said he would. He wasn’t excited to talk to Godo again so soon, but he was on a timer. 

Unfortunately, that meant his freedom was also on a timer. He grabbed his PHS and tried very hard not to think about what he was about to willingly submit himself to. 

Chapter Text

Cloud may deny it if given the opportunity, but he was an anxious man. Most people who knew him in his own time would laugh in his face for denying it, but that had never stopped him. He had a whole host of anxious tics, from ruffling his hair to pacing to bouncing his leg while he sat. The one he was currently indulging in was cleaning First Tsurugi. He had taken it apart and had the pieces spread out before him, scrubbing each and picking out flecks of blood before wiping them down with sword oil. He fiddled with latches and triple tested clasps. He dug his nail into the wrap of the hilt to check it. If he was being very obvious about his nerves, Vincent had the decency not to say anything about it. 

They cleaned their respective weapons in silence, until Vincent tucked Cerberus away. It was clean and he wasn’t just trying to keep his hands busy. He was also much more capable of sitting in one place and waiting than Cloud was when he got like this. 

Still, it seemed much too soon when he heard a bright call of, “Hey!” from the tree line. Cloud pulled in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. He didn’t bother looking up as loud footsteps clumped their way over; he just went about methodically putting his sword back together. 

“Wait, undo it, I want to see how many pieces it breaks into,” Zack said when he was close enough, now peering over Cloud’s shoulder. 

“No,” Cloud said, redoing the final latch before standing and sheathing his sword at his back, Zack ducking the blade with a laugh. 

“C’mon, please? You’re not gonna be able to keep it a secret much longer.”

“Why? Planning on taking my sword from me?”

“ I’m not, but it will get taken. You have to know that.” The cheer in Zack’s voice dipped a little.

Cloud shrugged. He caught Vincent’s eye and, when they had shared a nod, turned to Zack. 

His heart still swelled and his stomach still flipped at seeing him. He wasn’t sure the reaction would ever stop. It was still too new, that was certain, but it was also nearly awe-inspiring. Zack , alive and whole before him. Gaia. 

Instead of saying any of this, he said, “Where’s transport?”

Zack sighed and ruffled his hair. He looked up at Vincent and said, “Is he always like this?”

Vincent blinked at him and answered, “Like what?”

Zack stared at him, trying to decide if Vincent was fucking with him. 

(He was.)

“Riiiiiiight,” Zack said before turning back to Cloud. “I’ll, uh, show you where it is.”

Cloud nodded and gestured with his head for Zack to lead the way, as they were already at the edge of Cloud’s camp. Zack led them into and through the trees, but the silence didn’t last very long. 

“No one’s sure why you agreed to this, y’know.”

Cloud hummed, but didn’t say anything. Best not to encourage Zack if he wanted to make it through to Midgar without losing all of his secrets. 

Zack, however, had never been stopped that easily. 

He continued, “You’re obviously not from Wutai. Sephiroth told us your spiel about mako but none of us buy that that’s the whole story. And if that wasn’t enough to explain why you’d fight for them, it definitely doesn’t explain giving yourself up for them. Sephiroth said you seem to know what you’re getting yourself into, but I don’t see how you can, not unless you’ve got a way better reason for what you’re doing that you aren’t saying.”

Zack paused and looked at Cloud as they walked. Cloud stayed looking ahead. 

“Well?” Zack finally tried. 

“‘Well’ what?”

“You’re really not going to explain any thing?”

“What about anything I’ve ever done made you think that I would?”

“Well, we’re on the same side now, kind of.”

“I’m a glorified prisoner of war, not a SOLDIER.”

“You’re going to be inducted, though.”

“If they decide to trust me. Which they will only do if I explain some things that I definitely will not be explaining.”

“Maybe. Maybe they’ll make you a SOLDIER anyway. You’re definitely built like one.”

“Enhanced like one, maybe.” And it would forever be a sore spot, how he ended up that way. 

“How did that happen?”

Cloud had to fight back a wince. He never thought Zack would be asking him that question.

“I thought you were taking me to transport, not interrogating me.”

Zack laughed a little and said, “‘Interrogating’ is a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“Fishing for information you know I don’t want to talk about, then.”

“I don’t know that, and I usually try not to make assumptions.”

“The hell is the transport, Zack?”

Zack sighed. 

“Just a little further. They really weren’t kidding when they called you prickly, huh?”

“You couldn’t tell that from me kicking you out of camp?”

“Between that and the story of you putting Genesis up a tree, I was starting to guess, but you’re really bringing the point home.”

“You’re welcome.”

Cloud knew Zack well enough to know that the silence that followed wouldn’t last. It was more just time for Zack to find his next angle. He wasn’t going to give up until he had gotten something out of Cloud, which left Cloud wondering if he shouldn’t find something to give him, just to make him drop it. But he thought that was more his urge to indulge Zack talking than his common sense, so he left it alone. 

Zack allowed the silence to stretch all the way until they approached the transport, which Cloud almost took to be the Tiny Bronco at first. He mostly remembered flying in helicopters with Shinra, but this was definitely a plane. Which was bad news—they’d be able to talk in a plane. Fuck. 

“You ever fly before?” Zack asked, coming to stand at Cloud’s side where he had stopped to stare at the plane. 

Cloud couldn’t remember if there were commercial aircrafts. There hadn’t been any in Nibelheim, small town that it was, and he certainly hadn’t had the money for a ticket when he made his way to Midgar. Then he was with Shinra, and flew in the company crafts. His memory was shaky enough he couldn’t pinpoint anything. 

So instead of answering, he just went and climbed into the plane, needing one hand to vault up into the opening. Zack followed with the ease allowed by his height, but was sighing at his silence as he did so. He took the seat across from Cloud and they buckled themselves in. 

Cloud stared out a window as Zack stared at him. He was only given until they were at a cruising altitude in silence before it began again. 

“So, why do you like Sephiroth so much?”

Cloud nearly choked on the hysterical laugh that tried to crawl out of his throat. Now that wasn’t something he’d been accused of before. 

“I don’t,” he answered honestly. 

“Seems like you do. He’s the only one you’ll really talk to.”

He was also the only one who he really needed to keep an eye on, as he was the only one who was an active threat to the entire planet. 

“You’ve never talked to someone you don’t like before?”

“I mean I do, all the time. But you barely talked to me, Genesis, or Angeal. Seems like you don’t talk to anyone you don’t like.”

“Who says I don’t like you three?”

He liked Zack, and Angeal seemed alright. Genesis admittedly seemed irritating most of the time he opened his mouth, but that could just be first appearances. 

“ Do you like us?”

“Does it matter?”

“To me, yeah.”

Cloud knew he should say no, but he also didn’t like the idea of lying to Zack. He shrugged instead. 

“That’s not an answer,” Zack said with a frown. 

Cloud just shrugged again. 

Zack let his head fall back with a groan. 

“C’mon, you gotta give me something .”

Cloud blinked and said, “Do you want me to shrug again?”

“ Cloud .”

“Listen, Zack. I’m not going to give you anything. You might as well give up.”

Zack pursed his lips, but seemed to at least be pausing to think about it. After a long, long moment, he nodded slowly. But, because Zack had never been known for sitting in silence well, he did start to talk again. He did ask Cloud questions, but they were innocuous. What foods he liked, when his birthday was, did he have any nicknames. 

And this, arguably, was more dangerous. Because it was easy to stay on guard when asked risky questions. It was much more difficult to do so when the conversation was harmless. He found himself answering without thinking, letting the conversation flow easily between them, the way it always had. The familiarity was dangerous, and it was only the swelling of emotion in his heart that kept him grounded in the present. It would have been so easy to forget why this wasn’t safe, if it wasn’t for how much this meant to Cloud. 

The whole flight was easy conversation, which made it very difficult for Cloud to keep his head square on his shoulders. He thought he managed to keep everything important under wraps, but when Cloud caught sight of Midgar, he found himself wondering. 

At least half of the reason for that was the way Zack transitioned smoothly from talking about fishing into asking him, “You nervous?”

“What?”

“You got tense. You nervous about landing?”

It was a sign of how far their conversation had gotten in his head that he admitted, “I don’t think anyone would be totally at ease about being a Shinra prisoner.”

Zack hummed his acknowledgment before saying, “It shouldn’t be too terrible. Sephiroth’s going to keep an eye on them, make sure things don’t get out of hand.”

Cloud snorted and said, “That’s not—“ comforting, he wanted to say, but that was too telling. He changed tact. “That’s not his job description.”

Zack shrugged. 

“Maybe not, but he wants you in one piece. We all do.”

For different reasons, Cloud was sure, but he kept that to himself. 

“We’ll see,” Cloud said, and Zack opened his mouth to answer, but then they were landing. The second they came to a complete stop, they were both unbuckling their seatbelts, Cloud with more hesitance than Zack. 

Zack, who gave him a warm, winning smile and said, “C’mon. It’ll be alright; I’ll keep an eye on you until Sephiroth gets back.”

Normally, that would be far more comforting, but then he remembered that Zack had little power to intervene. Cloud sighed and got to his feet. 

“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled, making his way toward the exit where Zack was waiting. 

Zack clapped a hand to his shoulder with a grin, saying, “That’s the spirit.”

Chapter Text

He didn’t know what he fucking expected. 

His list of demands, he thought, had been pretty godsdamn reasonable. But then, he should have known better than to expect “reasonable” from Shinra. 

There, on the tarmac waiting for the to debark, was Hojo and a team of scientists. Cloud paused in his tracks, his heart rate shooting through the roof. It was hard to hear anything over the rushing of blood in his ears as his stomach plummeted between his feet. 

It was everything he could do not to toss Zack to the ground when he laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“Everything alright?”

“Did Sephiroth explain my terms for doing this?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Then he better be here for you .”

Cloud finally finished climbing out of the plane. He knew Zack finally saw Hojo when he cursed sharply. 

Zack took off ahead of him, which was very unprofessional, considering he was supposed to be guarding Cloud. He just also knew there was nothing he could do if Cloud decided not to cooperate, so he didn’t worry about it too much. 

“Hey! Hojo, you can’t be here.”

“There’s a new enhanced subject, of course I’m here.”

“No way, he’s off limits. He’s going to get a physical from a standard medical doctor.”

Hojo scoffed, saying, “To what end? They won’t even know what they’re looking at.”

“Well, that sucks, ‘cause that’s what’s gonna happen. Take it up with the President if you don’t like it.”

Cloud had to fight back a bubble of hysterical laughter, as Hojo turned and walked away, grumbling and trailed by his team. He couldn’t help but think that this Zack was having far more luck protecting him from Hojo than the one Cloud had known. 

But as the team left, and Cloud’s fight or flight instinct waned, he noticed the, arguably greater, threat that remained. 

Turks. 

Cloud approached and stood at Zack’s side, who seemed to be in a much more serious mindset now that he was in the lion’s den, much as he might have called it home. He had a charge to protect now, and Cloud of all people knew exactly how seriously Zack took such a duty. It made Cloud feel strangely safe, despite having a full understanding of how little power Zack had, and that he largely still trusted Shinra. The nostalgia was going to cloud his good sense if he kept this up. 

Tseng approached, flanked on either side by Rude and Reno, and it was nearly enough to give Cloud double-vision. Half of him wanted to quip about Elena’s absence, but that would have been an amazingly stupid move. 

“C’mon, Tseng, there’s no way this is necessary. He’s gonna be a SOLDIER,” Zack started, and strangely enough, Tseng had that bemused glint in his eye despite his perfectly schooled expression. Cloud had only started to see that after Advent Day, whenever he was irreverent toward Rufus’s status. Did Zack and Tseng know each other? Personally and not just professionally?

“Unfortunately, before that can happen, he’s to answer a few questions. If you both would follow me, we can get this over with.”

Zack looked hesitant when he looked back at Cloud, who just shrugged and nodded to Tseng. He knew this was going to happen. There was no way it wasn’t. 

“Thank you,” Tseng said, far more diplomatically than Cloud was expecting. Maybe they really were going to play nice, at least until Cloud told them no about something. 

Tseng turned and began leading the way off, Zack falling in step behind him, which led Cloud to follow suit. Reno and Rude lingered to flank them as they passed. 

Or maybe they weren’t planning on playing as nice as Cloud guessed, because the room they led him to was clearly an interrogation chamber. Cloud sighed but allowed himself to be led inside. He dropped into the chair with the cuffs in front and amiably clipped them into place around his wrists. They were SOLDIER-grade, but he was built stronger than the average SOLDIER. These wouldn’t hold Sephiroth, which meant they wouldn’t hold Cloud. 

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he announced, staring up at Tseng who finally reached the table. He sat across from Cloud with much more decorum. 

“Frankly, you’re being far more cooperative than most people who end up in that chair,” Tseng started. 

Cloud raised an eyebrow. 

“You haven’t given me a reason to be uncooperative yet. Kinda defeats the purpose of the whole thing, if I start going back on my word.”

“Then you maintain your threat, that you will forcibly escape and tear everything down on your way out, should we force your hand?”

“Yup,” Cloud said, blasé and unrepentant. 

Tseng hummed, saying, “That’s quite the threat to make, but it has been brought to our attention that you managed to fight our best SOLDIERs to a standstill. How did you come by this talent?”

“A friend taught me the basics. The rest I picked up when I travelled.”

“Travelled where?”

“All over. Mideel to Bone Village to Wutai, you name it.”

“And where did you start these travels from?”

“The Northern Continent.” Not technically a lie, considering he started there in this timeline. It also matched the story he’d given his mother. He didn’t want to risk lying to Tseng of all people if he could avoid it. 

“Your accent isn’t one I’d place from there.”

Shit. 

“My family’s from the mountains on the Western Continent. Got my accent from my mother.”

“I see. And your mother?”

“Dead now,” his was, “and I can’t really see how she’d be helpful for you to know about.”

“We’re interested in a complete history.”

“You won’t get one.”

“Yes, Sephiroth explained that you requested to be allowed to deny us answers as you see fit. It’s a request that has been granted, but Shinra bears you no ill will, and will only be able to better provide for you and yours with more information.”

Yeah, right. Shinra had done nothing but hurt him and his. Even the ones like this version of Zack, who didn’t know it yet. 

“I don’t need to be provided for.”

“Shinra is offering to do so regardless.”

“I’d politely refuse the offer, but me being here was the term of the treaty, and I doubt Shinra will let me get a job at some convenience store.”

“Your talents would be wasted at such a place.”

“You seem to be under the impression that that would bother me.”

“Would it not? To sit around doing nothing, wasting your skill?”

“I would absolutely delight in wasting my skill,” Cloud said with the same deadpan he’d kept through this conversation. Best to give away as little as possible. 

“It would be quite a shame to see. Perhaps we could convince you otherwise?”

“I came here under the assumption that I’d be dragged into SOLDIER.”

“So you are willing to work with us.”

“To a point,” Cloud said, leaning forward in his seat. “Listen. I agreed to come play SOLDIER for you in exchange for peace, and I’ll keep my word. But expect me to tell you no. There are things I won’t do, orders or no. There are things I won’t tell you, no matter how prettily or threateningly you ask. As long as you respect that, we’ll get along just fine.”

Tseng just blinked impassively back at him. 

“Very well. Since you admit to being of SOLDIER strength, and your eyes make it very clear: how did you get enhanced?”

“With mako.” And many other things, but a lie by omission was still technically true. 

“By whom?”

“A scientist.”

“A name would be preferable.”

“Tough. You found my first hard line.”

“Alright,” Tseng said, not missing a beat. “Were they Shinra affiliated?”

“Next question.”

“Gender?”

“I’m not saying any more about them. Try something else.”

“Why did you fight for Wutai?”

“Because mako is a scourge. You’re draining the planet dry, and you’ll kill her at this rate. If I can keep you from sucking the life out of at least one place, I will.”

“Is that why you don’t seem fond of Shinra?”

“One reason.”

“What are the others?”

“Personal.”

Cloud knew what Tseng was doing. He kept picking up the pace of the conversation, trying to trick Cloud into speaking without thinking. He was unlucky in that he’d learned this trick the hard way, from Reno who loved to use his motor-mouth to get Cloud to admit to anything embarrassing he could, so he could use it to get favors later. Cloud had learned to drawl his answers. Not only did it keep the pace of conversation reasonable, but it infuriated Reno to no end. If it also irritated Tseng, he was quieter about it. 

“You seem partial to Sephiroth, from the interactions he’s reported.”

“So people keep telling me.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Do you dislike him?”

“Does it matter?”

“If you cannot work with your commanding officer, there will be issues.”

“I can work with him.”

“May I see your sword?”

Cloud shrugged. Any other civilian, and he’d doubt they could lift it. He knew better than to doubt a Turk that way. 

He shrugged his shoulder to jostle the blade. 

“Just put it back when you’re done, if you want me to be useful.”

Tseng stood and rounded the table, pulling First Tsurugi free from Cloud’s back. He placed it gently on the table, his eyes inspecting every inch. 

“I’m given to understand it breaks into pieces.”

“Yeah.”

“How many?”

“Six.”

“How did you come by it?”

“I designed it.”

“Are you very familiar with engineering?”

“Some.”

“How did you learn?”

“From a friend.”

“You seem to have very useful friends.”

“You could say that.”

“Was the gunman in Wutai one of them?”

“I consider him a friend, yes.” Not quite the one he left behind, but still a friend. 

“Tell me about him.”

“No.”

“May I ask why?”

“No.”

“You do not need to protect people from the company.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, thanks.”

“Why do you refuse to work with Professor Hojo in particular?”

That was always Tseng’s favorite move, when trying to pry information out of Cloud: suddenly bringing up the topic of interest after lulling him into a sense of security with another. Good thing he was ready for it. 

“And there’s my second hard line, congratulations. Try a new topic.”

“You won’t discuss Professor Hojo at all?”

“The Professor isn’t any of my business, and I’m none of his. There’s nothing to discuss.”

“How did you come to know about him at all?”

“ There’s nothing to discuss.”

“Does Wutai have detailed information on Shinra scientists?”

“I can say it a third time, if you really want.”

Tseng sighed, and that was how Cloud knew, even before the Turk stood, that the interview was over. He reached across the table to undo the cuffs, and Cloud looked at him suspiciously. 

“What, that’s it?”

Tseng looked up at him as Cloud pulled his hands away from the cuffs and quickly set one on his hilt. If that bothered Tseng, he didn’t show it. 

“Were you expecting something else?”

“A real interrogation, to start with.”

Tseng raised an eyebrow, saying, “We have all the time in the world, Cloud. Perhaps when you’ve been here a bit, and feel more comfortable, you’ll be a little more cooperative.”

Cloud stood then, sheathing his sword as he went, only narrowly avoiding Tseng head deliberately. Tseng also seemed unbothered by the large sword swinging next to his face. 

“We’ll see,” he said as he passed the Turk and out into the hallway, where Zack was waiting by a one way window, staring back at him in awe. 

“Take it from here, Zack,” Tseng called. “Show him around, get him a uniform—First Class. He’ll be staying with you until we figure out something else. Get him comfortable.”

Cloud’s ears were ringing with the words “First Class.” They had more impact on him than the whole interrogation had. Gaia, he was getting his childhood dream, in the most twisted way possible. It made him dizzy. It made him sick. It made him want to run blindly in the opposite direction and never look back. 

“Sure,” he heard Zack day distantly, fighting to bring himself back to the present and some semblance of calm, glad his back was turned to Tseng and dreading what he might be reading in the set of his shoulders. “Can we get him keycards to move around on his own?”

“You’ll be with him, for now. When he’s earned them, he’ll get them.”

“Talking about me like I’m not here doesn’t make me want to be more helpful,” Cloud chimed in, forcing himself to say it. He couldn’t let what he was feeling show. 

“There will be plenty of time for you to be helpful later. If that’s all, Zack?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zack said, waving one hand lazily at Tseng, before he took Cloud by the shoulder. 

And strangely enough, that grounded him. The rough, friendly handling was so familiar, he’d recognize it anywhere. He was pretty sure the memory of it was etched into his bones. He breathed in again, and the breath came a little easier. 

“Holy shit, Cloud!” Zack said the second they were around the corner and out of earshot. “I’ve never seen anyone go toe-to-toe with Tseng like that! Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved some answers, but I’ve never seen anyone just not give him anything on accident.”

Cloud shrugged, and Zack finally pulled his hand away. 

“The Emperor of Wutai trained me to withstand interrogation.”

Zack’s head whipped around, and his eyes were wide. 

“ Really?”

Cloud couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he snorted. 

“C’mon, Zack. No.”

“So you do have a sense of humor!”

Damn. He wasn’t supposed to be giving away even that much. But it was exhausting always being on guard, and dealing with Tseng made him appreciate the relative safety Zack presented. Perhaps appreciate it a little too much. He was starting to worry; if he was getting worn down this quickly, between Zack’s bombardment, Tseng’s questioning, and his new First Class status, he didn’t know how he’d last. 

He never did long term stealth missions. He rarely did stealth at all. He hadn’t been subtle when he chased Sephiroth around the world. The closest he’d come to actual stealth was sneaking into this Tower to save Aeris, and the closest he’d come to this kind of subterfuge was sneaking into Don Corneo’s. He was starting to wonder if he really did have the skill set to keep this up all the time, especially if he was going to be essentially staying with Zack. 

He didn’t really have any options; he had to be able to pull it off. There was too much at stake to fail. 

“Did I say something wrong?”

Shit. Right. Zack. 

“It’s nothing. Just reminded me of something, is all.”

“Well, maybe showing you around will cheer you up!”

Somehow, he doubted that. But Zack seemed determined, so he sighed and gestured ahead. 

“After you.”

As he followed Zack, he couldn’t help but think there was something wrong about this all. Hojo had given up too easily. Tseng had given up too easily. He understood his implication that they were playing the long game, and willing to win his compliance, but it still felt much too easy. 

He didn’t like thinking about what games Shinra might actually be playing. 

Chapter Text

Cloud could feel the timer ticking.

Zack was pleasant as he ever was as he showed him around the Tower. He was laughing, and joking, and kept bumping Cloud's shoulder with his own. And that was the problem, wasn't it? Because Cloud had what seemed like an endless amount of memories that looked just like this, of him and Zack around the Tower, joking, laughing, having fun with the kind of naivety Cloud hadn't felt since Nibelheim. It was so easy to fall back into rhythm, slip into a groove already present for him, that it felt as natural as breathing.

In Wutai, things had been easier. There had been a distance, and an unfamiliar surrounding to keep him grounded. He saw Zack in small bursts, and was able to get rid of him quickly. He was seeing it all in the wooded background of the island nation and not in the familiar halls of Shinra, where he had always known Zack. This was giving him double vision. This had him aching to fall back into those old patterns, to be someone he hadn't been in years. It would be so easy. And that was dangerous.

Every time smiled or breathed a laugh at one of Zack's jokes, he had to scold himself, but it was getting harder and harder. He knew that Zack knew he was wearing him down. Cloud told himself it was because he was tired after the pseudo-interrogation with Tseng, and prayed to Gaia that was true. He couldn't afford to slip around Zack, and he was going to live with him for the foreseeable future.

Until he had a revelation so large he almost stopped in his tracks, as Zack showed him around the building he knew like the back of his hand.

Zack was wearing him down, yes. But maybe he could wear down Zack too.

Zack was trying to get him to trust him. To rely on him, befriend him, lean on him. He was sure Zack had good intentions as well, that he genuinely wanted to be supportive, but he knew Zack. He knew how clever he was in his own way, and how he was loyal to a fault. Shinra still had his loyalty at the moment, and Cloud didn't. Shinra wanted information on Cloud, and he wasn't fool enough to think that Zack wouldn't share anything he learned. He may genuinely want to help Cloud, but he also had a mission to fulfill. And he would do his best to complete it. Cloud knew that

The question was, could he override all that? Could he befriend Zack enough to win him to his side? Could he get him to put his loyalty to Cloud above his loyalty to Shinra, so that if everything went to hell in a handbasket despite his best efforts, he'd be able to get him to safety? If he could just make it so that Zack would leave Shinra on Cloud's word, he could keep him safe. It was an extra safeguard in place, and Cloud needed as many as he could get.

It was worth a shot. It was worth anything Cloud had to give.

So when Zack asked if he was okay after his stutter step, Cloud nodded and continued, but he relaxed. He stopped fighting down his expressions, his urges to smile or laugh. He let himself joke with Zack, and it felt like ice water after being stranded in the desert. It was enough that Cloud wondered if maybe he wasn't indulging his own urges more than trying to complete his mission, but if he could have Zack on his side, it would change the game. If he could have Zack so close he could warn him, get him to help him keep an eye on Sephiroth? Potentially, he could be a foot in the door, to get Cloud actually close to Sephiroth, so he could even try to save him.

Maybe he'd been in the Tower with Zack for too long. That kind of naive optimism sounded like a much younger version of himself.

But he couldn't stop himself from hoping.

By the time they finished the tour Cloud didn't need, he had his arms full of a uniform and keycards to allow him into different areas. He noticed he was given far higher clearance than he expected. He wasn't allowed on the Science Department floor, or the Executive Floors, but Cloud knew how to get around that if he needed to. He hoped the keycards he remembered lying around where already placed where he had found them in the future if it came to that, but he could figure out a way regardless.

"Well, here we are," Zack said, as he keyed them into his apartment. "Home sweet home."

Cloud followed him into the apartment, and found that it wasn't the one he remembered. When Cloud had known him, Zack had had a First's apartment. That one had been decorated about the same, with photos of friends and movie posters and mug-rings on most flat surfaces, but it had also been much larger.

"Seconds usually have roommates," Zack explained, leading Cloud to the spare room, complete with a bed covered in a dusty comforter. "With most of the men out at Wutai, though, we've had spare rooms. A lot of people have gotten promoted and then shipped off without even being assigned a room. I was lucky I already had my room and was just waiting on who I'd share it with, but I guess it'll be you. But you'll probably get your own place once everything settles! They made you a First!"

The thousand times Cloud had introduced himself as "Cloud Strife, SOLDIER First Class" rang in his ears.

He shook his head a little to clear it and then shrugged.

"They only did that because I can keep up with Sephiroth. It'd look pretty strange for them to make such a fuss over me and then give me a low rank."

"That's true," Zack said, going to flop back on the couch. Cloud went and sat carefully next to him. "I almost thought they'd make you earn your promotions like everyone else, for the fairness of it, y'know? But you're right, you've already proved that you've earned it. No one can really doubt your skill."

Cloud snorted and said, "I think it's less about me having earned it already and more about them showing off their new toy."

When the silence stretched just a beat too long, Cloud looked over, to see Zack frowning.

"You really don't like Shinra, do you?"

Cloud sighed, fighting back the urge to ruffle his hair in a gesture he had picked up from this man.

"I don't. Shinra's done a lot of wrong to a lot of people."

"Is this about the reactors?"

"It's about them, yes. But it's also about how they tore their way across the planet and brought unwilling nations under their rule, the way they tried to with Wutai. It's about the people starving to death beneath the plate in Midgar, where there's plenty to provide for everyone. It's about all the people they have SOLDIERs like you kill for daring to say that Shinra's done wrong. If they were as innocent as they said, they wouldn't fight so hard to crush dissent. Dissent is natural. You listen to people who disagree with you, try to understand their viewpoint, and move to do better. You don't stagnate. Shinra's stagnating, and bringing the whole world to the same standstill.

"I don't care about all the new models of PHS or the planes and helicopters, about the SOLDIER enhancements or about mako refinement processes. Those things are growth, but not the kind that matters. There's no social growth, and while we're busy focusing on perfecting reactor blueprints, people are dying. It's not right. All the technological progress in the world isn't worth it, if we have to step on other people to get there."

There was a long pause. Cloud looked up from where he was looking at his hands in his lap to see Zack watching him intently, all his usual mirth gone from his face. His eyes were roving over Cloud's face in the silence.

"That technological progress is making people's lives easier. That's why Shinra spread, to bring electricity to everyone. It makes life a hell of a lot easier for everyone."

"No, Zack. Not for everyone. For everyone who can afford Shinra's prices."

Zack's brow furrowed.

Cloud continued, saying, "You think there aren't people below plate, picking what bill to pay because they can't pay them all? People living in absolute darkness because there's no access to the sun and their lights got turned off? People who aren't eating so they can keep their lights on?"

"I..."

"Listen, Zack. I'm not saying Shinra's never done good for anyone. They have. They've helped a lot of people. I'm just saying that other people have paid the price for it. That doesn't sit right with me, is all. We don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want."

Zack, with an expression of pure relief, changed topics to what they were eating for dinner that night. Cloud let him chatter on about it, but again, he knew Zack. He knew the line of tension in his shoulders and the forced edge to his smile that said he’d be thinking about his words for some time to come.

Good. Maybe there was hope yet.

Chapter Text

“I dunno, it’s weird. I mean, he was a brick wall with me, even more than he was with you. Wouldn’t make a peep.” There was a pause, then. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s still asleep. Haven’t heard him get out of bed yet, and I’m too far for him to overhear without being by the door.”

Zack was almost right. That would have been the case for a standard SOLDIER. But Cloud was more enhanced than that. He was fully able to lie in bed, stare at the ceiling, and hear every word. 

“Anyway, he really opened up with me yesterday. It was after Tseng talked to him, so maybe his nerves were just shot. There’s a chance he was just desperate for some normalcy. I can’t really see another reason for his sudden turn around. There was no obvious trigger for it. One moment he was a hardass, the next moment he was still a hardass, but he had a sense of humor.

“... Nah, we didn’t talk about most anything important. Only thing was that Shinra came up… Oh. Mostly he was talking about how Shinra doesn’t actually help everyone, only the people that can pay them. Yeah. Yeah. No, I know. Yeah, he seemed pretty invested. Almost heartbroken, about the people he says are getting screwed. Can’t say I blame him.”

“... C’mon, Seph, I know that. Can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, and all that. I get it… Yeah, I know I don’t have to like it. Listen, I ought to go get him up. His physical is this morning. I’ll report in later. Yeah. Bye.”

Cloud didn’t bother sitting up. He just folded his hands beneath his head as Zack clattered around with something outside before coming to his bedroom door. He knocked twice before letting himself in. 

“Goooooood morning, sunshi—“ Zack’s face faltered for a second, went stiff as he noticed Cloud already looking at him. Because Cloud was looking for it, he could see him squash his panic at being overheard. His smile turned easy again. “You normally just lie there for a while?”

Cloud sat up and shrugged, rubbing at one eye.

“I was enjoying being in a proper bed. Haven’t had one in a while.”

“Yeah, those shitty cots will kill your back.”

Cloud snorted and raised his arms above his head, leaning back to stretch. His back popped satisfyingly. 

“Didn’t have a cot. We used bedrolls.”

“Huh. Godo didn’t want to shell out for cots?”

“No, the bedrolls are better for maneuverability. We could move camp faster without hauling cots. We were on foot.”

“You guys didn’t have any vehicles?”

“Why would we want them, in a forest? They just slowed you down, but you had too much shit to haul to leave them behind. You would have done better if you all stopped worrying so much about comfort and more about winning.”

“What’s this, tips on how to beat you?” Zack said, grinning like a fiend. 

Cloud snorted and climbed to his feet. 

“I only told you because Shinra can’t afford to do that. Half your recruitment strategy is a promise of being taken care of. People hear the SOLDIERs and troopers are roughing it all the time, your numbers will dwindle, and Shinra won’t allow for that.”

Zack kept a look of good humor on his face, but tilted his head. 

“Are you just really good at reading the strategies behind our ads, or have you been talking to people you shouldn’t?”

If they were going to smile around the edges between them, two could play at that game. 

Cloud gave his own small smile and said, “I’ll leave that up to your imagination.”

Zack barked a laugh that was still mostly amusement; he hadn’t really expected to get anywhere. He turned and headed out to the main room, waving over his shoulder for Cloud to follow. Cloud had slept in his uniform, for lack of another option, and grabbed his stomach guard and belts off the dresser on his way out of the room. 

“Your physical is today. They’re probably gonna want you to skip eating for bloodwork.”

“I’m not getting any bloodwork,” Cloud said, slipping around Zack to head for the fridge. If eating would spoil any possibility of bloodwork, he was definitely having breakfast. 

“That’s a normal part of the physical, though. Check your levels and whatnot. They especially gotta see where your mako’s at.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal. I told Sephiroth no Hojo, no bloodwork, no needles.”

“C’mon, man, I know you can’t be afraid of a little needle-pinch.”

Cloud’s grip grew tight on the fridge handle as he stared inside. 

“It’s not necessary, and I’m not doing it.”

“Your mako levels could be all screwy, and that’s dangerous. If they don’t know where you’re at, they could give you too much and give you mako poisoning.”

They would just love to get me mako poisoned , Cloud thought bitterly to himself. 

“If they wanna give me mako, they can run the dosage by me. I know how much I can take.”

“What, did you give your enhancements to yourself ?”

Cloud felt around for anything. This conversation wasn’t helping his ability to think. 

“No.”

Carton of strawberries. Good enough. 

“Then how do you know what level you can take?” Cloud plopped down in one of the bar seats at the island beside Zack, who wrinkled his nose when Cloud bit into a strawberry and said, “What, you’re not gonna wash ‘em?”

Cloud shrugged as he chewed and said, “Why bother? Pesticides can’t kill me.”

“Yeah, but there’s dirt still.”

“You’ve never gotten a mouthful of dirt in a fight?”

“Well sure, but I don’t exactly seek it out, y’know?”

“It’s not like you can taste it.”

“It’s still—hey! Don’t dodge the question.”

Cloud blinked slowly, unapologetically, and bit another strawberry. 

He knew what level of mako he could take because he knew his levels. He had the WRO run his saliva every now and then to check them, but if Shinra hadn’t developed the process for saliva checks yet, then he didn’t want to show knowledge he shouldn’t have. 

His bodily fluids had been exactly 21% mako since Advent Day. Sephiroth’s last registered percentage was 18%. The average SOLDIER was 15%. This was all information Cloud had because Rufus knew he had no right to keep it from him. He doubted the current Rufus would agree. 

Instead of explaining this, he chewed placidly. 

“C’mon, man,” Zack said, when it was clear he wasn’t going to answer. “Give me something.”

“I’ve already told you, I care a lot about the Lifestream, and knowing a lot about mako goes with that. There’s a point of enhancement, when the maintenance isn’t necessary anymore. Once you hit that point, small doses won’t raise your levels, but they also don’t dip with time. I’m just over that threshold, that’s all.”

Zack hummed and said, “That’s more than the labs ever explained to me.”

Cloud sighed and examined the strawberry stem in his fingers. He twirled it absently. 

“I’m not telling you how I know that.”

“I’m surprised you told me at all.”

“Maybe if you all believe that I know what I’m talking about, you’ll trust me to make decisions regarding my own health.”

“Aw, Spike!” Cloud immediately went stiff as a board. Zack went on as if he didn’t notice. “It’s not that we don’t trust you, it’s just that there are experts for a reason.”

Cloud felt off-kilter, like he had no balance. He hadn’t been ready for the old nickname. He should have been, he should have expected it. He didn’t. He was reeling. 

In his disorientation, he was a bit too honest. 

“Well when the experts are twisted fucks, I want to make the calls.”

“... Cloud?”

Cloud sucked in a breath and shook his head. He gathered the stems and took them to the trash to toss them. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap.”

“You okay?”

“I… don’t like doctors.”

It was weird enough that he had to explain that to Zack. It reminded him that this wasn’t his Zack, and for all his plans to turn him to his side, he couldn’t trust him yet. 

When he turned back, Zack’s face was strangely soft. 

“Makes sense you didn’t want to see Hojo, then. He’s kinda like Creepy Doctor Supreme. Gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

Cloud allowed himself to crack the smile that crept onto his face. They might not be friends, not yet, but this was still Zack. Not many people would try to make him feel better in this position, after all. 

“He could give anyone the willies.”

Zack blinked, and then burst out laughing. Cloud smiled a little wider as Zack laughed longer than he expected. 

“Aw, man! No one’s gonna believe you said ‘the willies’ without being put up to it!”

Cloud shrugged and walked to the front door, slipping First Tsurugi onto his back. 

“Oh well. C’mon, let’s get this over with.”

They chatted amiably all the way down to the infirmary, with Cloud keeping a careful eye on where they were going. If Zack had tried to steer him to the labs, he was fully ready to raise hell. But he was shown into a perfectly normal waiting room. 

And that was fine. 

In theory. 

In actuality, it was enough that Cloud had to check and be sure he hadn’t literally developed hives from his bone deep rejection of the place. It wasn’t the labs, no. It didn’t stink of recycled air, but there was the smell of antiseptic everywhere. There were people in scrubs and white coats. It was enough. 

Cloud’s heart was beating a brutal tattoo against his chest, the blood rushing in his ears so hard and fast he almost couldn’t hear. He was carefully, oh-so carefully moderating his breathing so he didn’t hyperventilate. 

“Cloud? You okay?”

Cloud nodded mechanically, and went to take a seat in the waiting room. He didn’t dare close his eyes, not feeling safe enough to risk it, but as Zack checked him in, he took the time to carefully pull his mind away from his body, the way he had learned in the labs so many years ago. He pulled and pulled and pulled his will away, his mind stretching like taffy, until it finally snapped away from his body, like bubble gum pulled too far. 

His breath slowed. His heart rate slowed. He stared distantly ahead of himself, seeing but unseeing. He stayed utterly still as he stared at the wall ahead of himself. From a safe distance, his mind watched his body. With the space that distance granted, he was able to remember that this was different. This was the infirmary, not the labs. This was a physician, not Hojo. He was here to be checked over, not pulled apart and reassembled differently. 

Zack set a hand on his shoulder. Instead of jumping, he raised his head so, so slow. Zack looked concerned, but Cloud couldn’t remember why that mattered. 

“They’re ready for you, buddy.”

Cloud nodded and climbed to his feet. He tottered down the hall behind a nurse, who led him into the appropriate room. He sat in a chair instead of on the bench, as instructed. When the nurse started to protest, Zack waved her away. 

“I’m going to take your vitals now, okay?”

The nurse was speaking to him as if he was a child. He knew he was acting strangely, but he hadn’t thought it’d be that obvious. Oh well. 

She wrapped something around his finger, and a monitor lit up with a purple wave and some numbers. On the opposite arm, she attached a blood pressure cuff and pressed a button on the monitor so it slowly inflated. She pressed a timer and watched his chest, counting how fast he was breathing, while slipping a thermometer under his tongue. 

Cloud pulled his mind even further away, counted to twenty in every language he knew, and tried very, very hard not to remember why this felt so routine. 

He blinked, and everything was removed from him. The nurse wasn’t even there anymore. It was just him and Zack in the room, waiting for the doctor. 

When he saw Zack looking at him in concern, he cleared his throat. 

“Sorry, must have spaced out,” he said. He still felt so, so far away. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

Zack must have understood that something was happening here, because he didn’t say anything else. 

It could have been a minute, it could have been an hour before the doctor appeared. He blinked, and there she was, in her dreaded lab coat with her nightmarish stethoscope around her neck. 

“I said, how have you been feeling?”

Cloud told her he felt fine. She asked about his diet, he told her he just came back from scavenging. She had him stick his tongue out. Pressed down his tongue and peered down his throat. Looked in his ears. Shone a light in his eyes. Had him follow her finger with his gaze. Tapped his knees with a rubber mallet. Had him bend over and touch his toes to check his spine. She asked about any injuries, and he said he was fine. He didn’t mention any hits he took during the war. When she brought that up specifically and he just shook his head, she asked him to remove his shirt. Something in the back of his head protested, because Zack shouldn’t see something , but he couldn’t remember what. He lifted his shirt. 

Zack hissed in a breath. Cloud blinked at him slowly, coming a little closer to his body. When Zack was too busy staring at his chest to look at him, he remembered what the problem was. There was the large scar next to his heart that Masamune had left with him, that day in the reactor. There were some gruesome scars scattered around from experiments that had taken place, before he’d had enough mako in his system for the wounds to close without leaving scar tissue behind. 

The doctor was staring too. 

“Well?” he asked. 

“How did you survive these?” the doctor asked in return. 

“Mind your business,” Cloud said, ruder than usual with his dissociation. “Do your job.”

The doctor scowled at him, but continued. 

She pulled out her stethoscope, and Cloud had to fight not to flinch. He breathed deep on her command. She moved the stethoscope around. Chest, then his back. She hung the stethoscope around her neck again. Snapped off her gloves. 

“We just need some bloodwork and you’re done.”

“No bloodwork.”

“What? You’re enhanced, you have to have bloodwork.”

“ No bloodwork.”

“This really isn’t optional.”

Cloud pulled on his shirt, and began doing up his stomach guard and belts. 

“We’re done here.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist.”

“If you try to force me to do bloodwork, I will put you through the wall.”

Zack laughed awkwardly and stood up, gently taking the doctor’s arm and ushering her to the door, saying, “Thanks, doc, I know you’re just doing your job.”

“We can’t give him his injection without running his levels.”

“I know, doc, but trust me, it’s best not to push him.”

“I’m directing any calls I get about this to you , Fair.”

“Sure thing, doc. Why don’tcha head on out of here, and I’ll take over? Thanks a million.”

With that, Zack pushed her gently out the door. He went to close it and turn back to Cloud, but the blond grabbed the door from his hand and yanked it open. He brushed past him and began hurrying out of the infirmary. 

He hurried all the way back to Zack’s apartment, who followed him, and didn’t say a word until they were safe behind the door. 

“Seriously, Cloud, are you okay? ‘Cause you don’t look okay.”

Cloud began making a bee-line to his bedroom. 

“I’m fine.”

“What was that?”

“I told you, I don’t like doctors.”

With that, Cloud snapped the door shut behind him. 

He quickly removed his boots and climbed back into bed, pulling the blankets over his head, to begin to try and put himself back together. 

It wasn’t very long after when he heard Zack talking, clearly trying to keep his voice down, but not so low Cloud couldnt overhear. 

“No, Seph, listen, make time. I took Cloud to his physical this morning. I don’t think we knew how big a concession he was making, when he agreed to it. No, man, you didn’t see him. I haven’t seen someone look like that who wasn’t pulled fresh from a bloodbath battle. That was trauma, Sephiroth. I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me. He just kept saying he doesn’t like doctors.

“Listen, I think it’s got something to do with whenever he was enhanced. It’s the only thing that makes sense. He was scarred to hell and back. He wouldn’t do any bloodwork, he said he told you that? Yeah, well, did you tell anyone else ? Well, no one told the infirmary. He threatened to put the doctor through the wall, and you know he could do it. 

“Yeah, I know he needs levels drawn. Why did you agree to it if you know? … Okay, yeah, he does have to stick around if he’s mako poisoned, but that’s a bad plan, and we shouldn’t risk it. He said that once you’re enhanced past a certain point, the routine injections won’t change your levels, and that your levels won’t lower over time. You know anything about that? Yeah, me either. Unless he got Hojo to tell him some secrets he keeps from every SOLDIER, I don’t know how he could have found that out and have it be true. 

“I dunno, Seph. I think, if we can, we should have someone give him his injection out of the infirmary or the labs. He got bad the second we walked in, and I don’t like how he looked at that doctor. I mean, if I had my way, you would give it to him, in like one of our apartments or something. You gave the maintenance shots to the SOLDIERs that couldn’t wait in Wutai, right? Okay, just think about it. I’ll update you later. Bye.”

Cloud curled tighter around himself. He reminded himself very carefully that he had already known that this Zack was not currently his friend. He had already known his wellbeing was not Zack’s priority. He was a target to be watched, not his buddy, no matter how often Zack used that word. 

He laced his fingers together behind his head, ducking it down, and tried not to let the betrayal he knew he had no right to feel be salt in the wound. 

Chapter Text

Cloud was, in many ways, a crueler drill sergeant with himself than any he’d even heard of as a trooper. He had to be. First it had been necessary, to keep up with Sephiroth. Sure, he pushed himself harder than anyone else then, but he was so enhanced—he could take it. That meant sleeping less, taking more watches during the night, taking smaller portions of food so the others would have more while saying he “wasn’t hungry.” The only one who had known was Vincent, whose own enhancement allowed him to keep up with Cloud, but he let him get away with it. He’d said it wasn’t his business, how another man tried to cope with his sins. Cloud hadn’t known what that meant, at the time, and had just been glad he would turn a blind eye. 

After Meteorfall, his inner drill sergeant had only gotten more brutal. When the urgent disaster Sephiroth presented was gone, there was nothing left to force Cloud out of bed. Depression had set into his bones, locking them as surely as cement would have. Not only was he unable to keep up the impossible pace he had for that year, he was unable to keep up any pace. His thoughts grew more poisonous, as if flinging crueler words at himself would succeed in getting him back on his feet. 

Of course, that hadn’t worked. The Geostigma hadn’t helped, piling physical malaise on top of the mental. It had taken time, so much time, even after Advent Day, to get himself through it. 

In truth, he hadn’t fully gotten back on his feet until he was sent back here. Until he was dumped in another crisis, where every second counted. His drill sergeant, that had grown more and more vicious with time, and whipped at him incessantly. This Vincent hadn’t been any more inclined to demand he slow down than his counterpart had been. Cloud wore himself into the ground during the war. 

And now here he was at Shinra, where his ability to run himself ragged was limited. He had a handler, now. Zack went where he went. Now that they had gotten through the physical, they had nothing in particular to get done, until someone came to collect them and give them some task. 

Cloud had sequestered himself in the room because he knew he needed privacy to put himself back together. The problem was, with the looming knowledge that he was back in Shinra, with Zack Fair just outside the door, he was having a far harder time of it than he should have. 

Come on, you don’t have time to waste. The longer you’re in here, the more suspicious he’ll be. You heard him talk to Sephiroth, he knows something’s up, and he already guessed it’s about how you got enhanced. He’ll ferret out more than you want him to know, if you don’t distract him. 

All true, of course. His drill sergeant always was accurate. But the stink of antiseptic hadn’t left his nose since the infirmary, and sometimes the voice of his drill sergeant drifted away, replaced by others. 

“One hundred and fifty additional CCs of mako,” Hojo narrated himself, in the memory that had sucked Cloud into its depths. “We’ll start with the small intestine today. The abdominal cavity will be pinned open to monitor how quickly it regrows once removed. Estimated time necessary: thirty-one hours. Let’s begin.”

Cloud wrapped an arm around his waist, trying to ignore the ghost of a scalpel digging into him, his eyes pinching shut to block out blinding fluorescents that weren’t there. 

He opened his eyes, and he didn’t see the room he was in, or the old operating theater Hojo had loved to work in, but the stark white cell he’d been kept in when Hojo allowed him rest. He blinked and the room was gone, but the voice of the only companion he’d ever had in that space lingered. 

“We’ll get out, Spike, I swear. This isn’t forever. It’ll be you and me, we’ll be mercenaries, and we’ll travel the world together, and nothing will stand in our way. You’ve got that First Class shine in your eye now, you’ll be a little terror with some practice—I can’t wait to get you a sword and see if your grip is still at that weird angle. What’d’you say?”

He could feel a long-dead version of Zack’s hand in his hair. He rolled onto his stomach, grabbed a nearby pillow, and slammed it over his head. 

Get up, Cloud , the drill sergeant tried again. You’re on a timer, and the sand’s almost run out. The hell are you gonna tell him if he comes to check on you and you’re like this? Tick tock, Stormcloud, better get your feet beneath you, or someone’s gonna kick them out from under you the second you try. Climb back on that horse while you still have the chance. Stakes are too high to be fucking around like this. 

He knew. He knew . No one had to tell him that he was jeopardizing the mission Gaia herself sent him on by lying here, he was perfectly aware already. But all he could hear with one ear was Zack saying “Spike, Cloudy, buddy,” and his other was full of Hojo saying “Specimen C .” He just needed more time , but time was something he didn’t have. 

He could feel scalpels, buried in him and dragging through him. The crooks of his elbows were full of needles. His veins burned with mako. His skin burned with mako. His eyes burned with the brilliant glare of the overhead operating room lights. 

He was falling apart at the seams. He thought he was past this. He hadn’t been like this in years . But he hadn’t walked into a health care setting and allowed a doctor in a lab coat to prod at him for far longer. He understood how triggers worked, knew the things that would set him off and dutifully avoided them. But he had told himself he could handle this, just this once. It had been so long since the memories had really gotten to him. If this was the cost of getting his terms met for Wutai’s freedom, he would pay it. He would suck it up, push through, force himself back onto his feet. 

Only every time Cloud tried to make himself move , now, he was back on the operating table, held in place by steel straps, or in a tank, soaking in mako that snapped his strength. The memories were a maze, and he couldn’t find his way back out. 

Distantly, from miles and miles away, on the very edge of his awareness, Cloud heard a knock. 

He thought he heard Zack’s familiar voice say, “Cloud?” all full of hesitance, but that might have just been memory. He’d sounded like that every time Cloud got thrown back into their cell, and Zack couldn’t tell at first glance if he was dead or not. It had been a common occurrence. 

There was a pause, where Cloud strained to listen for another knock, trying to tell for sure what was really happening. Maybe the pause stretched forever. Maybe it had only been a breath. All he knew was that he couldn’t hear anything anymore over the din of heart rate monitors and his own screams. 

He thought he felt the bed dip, but he was on the operating table, wasn’t he? Wait, was he on his stomach or his back? Maybe he was on the floor, having been thrown back in his cell. But that wouldn’t dip either. The cot?

“Cloud? You okay?” 

Zack. Must be the cot, then. And was a pillow over his head? He thought Hojo took their pillow, after Zack had gotten a lucky hit in on an orderly ages ago. Maybe he gave it back. He wondered why. 

Cloud removed the pillow and tucked it back under his head. He rolled over to face Zack, who was indeed sitting on the edge of the (much, much too large, too plush bed that featured far too many blankets) cot. He wondered at the fact that his body didn’t hurt. The only time the pain stopped anymore was when he was toeing the line of mako poisoning. No wonder Zack seemed worried. 

Cloud gave Zack a small, tired smile. 

“Better than usual. Doesn’t hurt right now. Can’t beat that, right?” When Zack looked shocked, Cloud chuckled and patted Zack’s knee, cutting him off before he could answer by saying, “Don’t worry, if I can talk, it’s not mako poisoning this time.” Then he paused in consideration before saying, “I am actually talking, right?”

Zack looked at him, his eyes sharp, his mind clearly racing. Cloud didn’t know what he was thinking so hard about. Maybe harebrained escape attempts again. 

“Yeah, Cloud. You’re talking.”

Cloud sighed in relief, blinking his heavy eyelids. He couldn’t force them open further than half-mast as he peeked up at Zack. 

“Good. Thought for a second maybe it was like that last time, when I did have mako poisoning and kept trying to talk to you. I almost had it that time. My lips were moving, remember? Few more cases of poisoning and I’ll be able to make myself talk anyway, just watch.”

Cloud let his eyes drift shut. He was safe, here with Zack. Safer, at least. It was rare that Hojo took Zack anymore, so any time Cloud could see him, he was sure nothing bad was about to happen immediately. If Hojo came back to collect him again, Zack would start shouting; he’d have some warning. 

“It’s impossible to move with mako poisoning, Cloud. How many times have you had a case?”

Cloud groaned, his face scrunching. 

“C’mon, Zack, how am I supposed to keep track?”

“You… know it’s me?”

Cloud cracked one eye open to look at Zack in confusion. 

“‘Course. Who else would it be?”

“Where are we, Cloud?”

“How should I know? You were the one trying to get the staff to let something slip, and that never worked.”

“How did we get here?”

Cloud opened both eyes now, his brow furrowing in confusion. 

“We woke up here after the reactor, remember?”

“The reactor?”

Cloud propped himself up on one elbow, concerned now. 

“There’s no way you forgot the reactor. And… is your hair shorter? I’ve never seen it this short, and it’s not like they’d ever bother to cut it…” Cloud leaned further to look at Zack’s jaw. “Did the mako heal your scar? I didn’t think it could do that, and they haven’t taken you out of the cell in so long…”

Before Zack could decide if he wanted to flee or try to play into whatever was happening in Cloud’s head, to ease him through the moment so he could get more information, Cloud shook his head sharply. He blinked rapidly a few times. 

Reality and memory had clashed too hard. It always had been the fastest way to yank him out of a flashback. But normally, when he came back to his senses, he was looking at a worried Tifa, who had pulled him back to the world deliberately. Not Zack, with a too-even expression and wary eyes, clearly not sure what Cloud remembered and how much he should mention. 

Cloud wasn’t sure how much was real and how much was memory overlaid on the present. When had Zack actually entered the room? Had he come in when he heard Cloud talking to empty air, and just slipped into the conversation to take advantage? Had he been there the whole time? How much had Cloud actually given away?

“Get out,” Cloud snapped, his voice like ice. 

Zack held his hands up, the distance on his expression melting, overtaken instead by pleading. But Cloud knew his mannerisms better than he knew his own, he was perfectly aware that it was an act. 

“Listen, I was just worried—“

“Maybe you came in here because you were worried, but you stayed because you’re a SOLDIER, and I’m your target, and your mission comes before your morals.”

Zack winced visibly and gave an awkward laugh. 

“That’s not really fair, I was just—“

“Zack, you can’t just—you can’t take advantage of— that , and then try to lie to me on top of it. If you’re going to treat me like the enemy, just fucking commit to it, alright?”

“You’re not the enemy , you’re part of Shinra now!”

Cloud barked a harsh laugh, sitting fully upright and scooting deliberately away from Zack. 

“Gaia, c’mon, cut the shit. We both know I’m not fully. You’re my handler, you’re here to watch me and report back, to dig around for any information you can, and try to win me over fully to your side. It’s your job to take advantage of any time I—slip. I get that. But you have to get that it’s fucked up to pretend to be my friend if you’re going to stab me in the back the first chance you get.”

“I’m not pretending . Okay, yes, I’m supposed to keep tabs on you. But I don’t have to be an asshole to you at the same time.”

“Of course not, that’d be counter-productive. I wouldn’t give you half as much information if you didn’t win my trust , right? If you just get in good with me, really make me think you’re my buddy , surely I’ll just spill my guts to you. People always admit more to the people they trust, don’t they? And I’m all alone, in enemy territory, with you as the only familiar face, who else would I turn to? Surely I’ll have to lean on someone eventually. And of course you’ll so graciously be there in my time of need, because we’re friends and I can trust you .”

Cloud knew that wasn’t how Zack was thinking of it. Zack was genuinely trying to do his best by everyone, forced between a rock and a hard place and trying to make what he could from the situation. He owed Shinra whatever information he could find, yes. But he also wanted to help Cloud, wanted him to be okay, wanted to be friendly. He was trying to make the process as pleasant for them both as he could. It wasn’t his fault he had few options. 

Cloud was putting words in his mouth. Reading malicious intent where there was none. He knew that. But he was hurt . That Zack , the one man he trusted more than anyone else, could see him in a moment of true weakness and try to use it against him, broke something inside him. He had known that this wasn’t his Zack, but to have his nose rubbed so brutally in the fact cut him to the core. It stung of betrayal the likes of which he hadn’t felt since he watched his hero burn his home to the ground. 

Zack gaped at him, looking very much like he’d just been slapped. Cloud was too busy being hurt to care. And why should he? This wasn’t his friend, anyway. Just a stranger wearing a beloved ghost’s face. 

Cloud snorted in derision and climbed out of the bed. He began rifling around in drawers for spare clothes. 

“... Cloud, I—“

“Fuck’s sake, Zack, don’t waste your breath.”

He tossed a uniform over his arm and went looking for underwear. 

“But Cloud—“

“There is nothing you could say that won’t just make me more sure I should knock your teeth out. I knew SOLDIER was a den of monsters, but they really corrupt even the best.”

“ Cloud , I—“

“I’m going to go shower,” he announced, folding the underwear into his uniform as he stepped around the end of the bed. “Why don’t you give Sephiroth a ring, so you can tell him all the juicy secrets you won from me when I clearly wasn’t thinking straight?”

If Zack had something to say to that, Cloud never heard it. He swept out of the room, snapping the door shut behind him, before making his way to the bathroom and locking himself inside. He knew Zack could break the lock if he wanted to, but it was the intent of the gesture that he was interested in. If Zack wanted to force his presence on Cloud, he would have to do so perfectly aware that it was unwanted. 

Cloud stripped down and turned the shower up hot enough to scald. Then he climbed inside and sat on the shower floor, his knees to his chest, and buried his face in his knees with a sigh. 

There was only one word to describe the current situation: fucked. 

Chapter Text

Zack didn’t know how long he had been sitting on the couch, listening to the shower run. 

He was just staring absently out of the window, lost in thought, Cloud’s words echoing in his head. 

His mind kept flickering back to Genesis. He gave Zack the same lectures over and over again, saying he was trying to balance out the fluff Angeal filled his head with. He insisted that, there would be times, where Zack would have to make a choice, between his mission and his moral code. He would insist that Zack should pick his mission, always. That the ends justified the means, that sometimes he would have to prioritize practicality, that, in the end, some things simply had to get done, by any means necessary. That the pretty honor Angeal preached about had to be laid down for a moment to get the job done. 

Zack had never given Genesis the “yes, sir” he was looking for. He always smiled and nodded, gave a vague “uh-huh,” but he’d never really agreed. Because in his heart, he didn’t. He didn’t think that morals should just be tossed aside when it was convenient. Orders weren’t always right. Genesis had always looked at him knowingly, as if he was aware of his unvoiced disagreement, but let it slide, only to repeat the lecture later. 

But, as was becoming abundantly clear to Zack now, the lecture had sunk in more than he thought. He’d always told himself that, when he hit the crossroads between doing what was right and doing what he was told, he would choose what was right. 

Except he had just hit that crossroads, when Cloud had looked at him with his hazy eyes and called him by name but clearly been seeing someone else, and done exactly what he said he wouldn’t. He’d had the perfect opportunity to hold to his values, to pick the ethical option over the practical one, and he’d failed. 

He had spent years telling himself that he wouldn’t fall in line with Genesis. Years. But he hadn’t even realized what he had done until Cloud called him on it. He’d just fallen in line, like a good little SOLDIER, without ever thinking twice. 

“ Fuck ,” he whispered, raising one shaking hand to cover his eyes. He clenched the other into a fist in his lap. 

Never again. Not anymore. Whatever the hell was happening here, whatever Cloud was involved in—he wasn’t going to snitch anymore. He’d talk to him, work out what was okay to share, what he could give Shinra to keep them off their backs. But no more taking advantage. No more picking apart Cloud’s weaknesses to report them back to a company that would only use them as weapons. 

He’d have to work out how far this would go, and that would require time to think. He needed to decide if he was in for Cloud’s whole scheme, however harebrained. He didn’t know if he was going to work with him, to try and further his ends, but at least he was going to stop working against them. He would let Cloud pitch his reasoning to him, and he would listen with an open mind, this time. He would need time, anyway, to convince Cloud that he wasn’t just trying to get him to share his secrets so he could snitch. Hopefully, he’d have it figured out by the time Cloud trusted him with the full truth. 

He dropped his hand and slumped down on the couch, resting his head against the back and staring up at the ceiling. Surely, it wasn’t beyond repair. He could fix this. It would take time, and a lot of effort, but it was possible . Cloud just had to give him a chance. 

In the background, the shower droned on and on. 

Chapter Text

Zack had wanted to start working towards fulfilling his promise when Cloud got out of the shower. He heard the water cut off and his heart started hammering in his throat. He waited for the door to open, when he pulled himself upright on the couch, turning to look at Cloud as he exited. He had his dirty uniform balled in the crook of his arm. Zack’s mouth opened, to say something, he didn’t know what, just anything to start repairing things.

Cloud gave him such a cold look that the words died on his tongue.

Cloud went into his bedroom and shut the door behind him without a word. 

That was fine. Zack could understand. Cloud’s day had, admittedly, been really fucking shitty so far. So he decided to try again whenever Cloud emerged from his room.

Only he didn’t. He’d been in there for hours now, and seemed to show no sign of emerging.

Zack knew Cloud was enhanced, that he could go without a meal or two the same way Zack could, but that didn’t mean he should . It was unnecessary. 

So, when it started pushing 2130, Zack finally forced himself to go to the bedroom door and knock.

“What.” Cloud’s voice was ice-cold. He didn’t bother answering the door.

Still, Zack took it for permission enough to enter the room.

Zack only opened the door halfway, just enough to see and be seen. Cloud was staring at the ceiling, his hands folded underneath his head. He didn’t bother looking toward Zack. Zack sighed and ruffled his hair. 

“I know you’re mad at me, and that’s justified, but can you at least come out and eat? Or I can bring you food? You ought to eat something.”

Cloud slanted him a harsh look and said, “What, did you grow back your conscience after a few hard words?”

Zack winced — because yeah, that was exactly what happened. Between the flinch and his expression, though, Cloud seemed to yield some. He sighed and sat up. He climbed out of bed with no further discussion, moving with such authority all of a sudden that Zack stepped out of his way instead of leading to the kitchen. But Cloud knew full well where it was and went about digging in the refrigerator for something to eat.

Zack lingered behind him by the island, unsure of what to do. Finally, he sucked in a breath and mustered what courage he could get his hands on. 

“Listen, I — I’m sorry. You were right, I was putting my mission before my morals, and that’s something I always said I wouldn’t do. I know you’re not going to believe me right away, and that I’ll have to earn your trust, but I’m going to stop. Before I call Sephiroth to update him, I’ll talk to you, and we’ll plan what to say. No more going behind your back, I swear.”

Cloud turned around, balancing packages of meats and cheeses to kick the door to the refrigerator closed. He dropped them off, gave Zack a look that was only a beat too long to be a glance, and then went to grab the sliced bread off the counter. He dug around in cabinets for plates as he spoke.

“I mean, you said it yourself. I’m not just gonna believe it because you said it. But if you’re being honest, and you’re not just going to rat me out to Shinra the first chance you get, then sure. I can at least stop being an asshole while you try to prove you’re being honest.”

Cloud came back with two plates in hand and set one in front of Zack and one in front of himself: a peace offering.

Because, the thing was, he already believed Zack. The SOLDIER didn’t know it, but he knew Zack better than he knew himself, most days. If Zack had decided he was in the moral wrong and was going to fix it, he would. If it had been his intention to continue ignoring ethics in favor of Shinra’s goals, this wouldn’t be how he went about it. There would be cajoling, coaxing, friendly overtures, but no outright promise like this. After being called on it, he wouldn’t have lied directly to Cloud’s face.

Cloud was glad to find that, once again, it helped to know the people he was dealing with. This was as important for his success as being able to stymie the Firsts on the battlefield. Because he had been hoping to get Zack on his side since the idea that it might be possible had crossed his mind.

Zack lit up at the attempt to meet him halfway. 

He beamed at Cloud and said, “I swear, I’ll show you I’m serious. SOLDIER’s honor.”

Cloud snorted and said, “I don’t think SOLDIERs have much honor to swear by, but I do think you mean that.”

Zack seemed to deflate some as he said, “You really dislike SOLDIER as much as you do Shinra, don’t you?”

Cloud shrugged and started putting his sandwich together.

“Not really. I think individual SOLDIERs are fine. I just know the lengths SOLDIER will go to and don’t approve of them.”

Any group that condoned what happened in Wutai, what happened to Sephiroth as a child was not a group that could be trusted.

Zack frowned some and said, “Maybe talk to Angeal, then. He’s always talking about SOLDIER honor.”

“I just said I don’t put any stock in that.”

“No, see, how you’re thinking about it isn’t how he talks about it. He always says that the world lets SOLDIERs get away with anything, especially the Firsts, with how they’re celebrities. He says SOLDIER honor is about holding ourselves to certain standards, because no one else is going to do it. We hold each other responsible. We hold ourselves accountable. That’s what SOLDIER honor is about.”

Cloud politely didn’t point out that Zack had done a very poor job of holding himself accountable just hours ago. Instead, he changed tact.

“Okay, then. How about you start earning my trust back by telling me about the commanders.”

“Angeal and Genesis?”

“Those two, yeah.”

“You don’t… know much about them?”

Cloud seemed to know so much, about Shinra and SOLDIER, about Zack and Sephiroth. Angeal and Genesis were huge public figures; he hadn’t been exaggerating when he called the Firsts celebrities. There was much more readily available information about the commanders than there was about Zack. He may be up and coming as a Second, but he still was just that: a Second. It didn’t make sense .

But little about Cloud made sense, ever. Zack should be more accustomed to that. 

Zack ruffled his hair and started to say, “Angeal’s been my mentor since I entered the program, so I know him a bit better. He and Genesis signed up together; they’re childhood friends, from the same hometown. It’s just been them and Sephiroth as Firsts for the longest time. You know firsthand how they fight, I’m not gonna waste time explaining that to you.

“Angeal is a little more by-the-books; he really is big on SOLDIER honor. He’s a little more serious, but he’s forthright and honest. He’s warmhearted, and really just wants to help people. That’s more what SOLDIER’s about, for him — helping people who need it. He’s trying to protect people. Wutai, to him, was about getting mako to the people, to make their lives easier. 

“Genesis cares more about getting the job done than what’s right ; he’s kind of like Sephiroth that way. He’s definitely not as straightforward as Angeal, he can be kind of… wily, I guess. He likes to talk in a way where he says one thing but it means another, but don’t tell him I know what he’s doing — he still thinks it’s going over my head. He’s got a temper, and is more worried about the glory and being a hero than about actually helping people. Even though that’s how you become a hero.”

Cloud hummed, but privately agreed. The Zack he had known had been a hero — to him, at least, for all that he had done. Sephiroth, for all his fame and glory, had fallen short of that standard in the end. 

But, maybe if he did this right, that wouldn’t be the case. Sephiroth could find his way, actually help people, become the hero he never really had been in Cloud’s timeline. Maybe even Angeal and Genesis, too. They could all be heroes, and Cloud, for once in his life, could lay down his mantle and go relax in some distant corner of the globe, minding his own business. Between the four of them, there were enough strong shoulders to bear the weight of anything serious that would happen.

Or maybe it would all go to shit. Maybe none of them would be heroes, not even Zack, and it would be Cloud alone again, just hoping and praying he could fix enough things that Sephiroth wouldn’t become the timeless menace he was by the end, able to be killed but impossible to stop. 

There was a beat, as Cloud thought this over, and then he sighed, pinching his brow.

It’d probably be the latter. But, Gaia , Cloud was tired. He’d killed all Gaia’s WEAPONs and taken their place willingly, but he didn’t want to be the immovable object to Sephiroth’s unstoppable force anymore.

“I, uh, didn’t mean to stress you out more?” Zack said, unsure.

And it was fair. He’d lapsed into silence and sighed, like the dramatic and brooding hero of a play, as Yuffie liked to accuse him of being. He still insisted that was Vincent.

“You didn’t. I just don’t know how much anyone’s going to be doing about ‘becoming a hero.’ It’s harder than you’d think.”

Cloud may have saved the world a few times, but he didn’t think he fit that category. Zack was a hero. The other members of AVALANCHE were heroes; they’d jumped into the fray  to do good. Cloud had jumped in, blinded by vengeance, pulled by Reunion, and forced to follow it through because it was too late to do anything else when he was needed. 

“Sounds like experience. Was that what Wutai was about, for you? Being a hero?”

Cloud couldn’t help it. He laughed.

“I’m no hero, Zack. Just some idiot who can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”

Zack looked supremely unconvinced, but decided to let it slide.

“Did that help at all? About Angeal and Genesis?”

Cloud sighed and ruffled his hair, unintentionally mimicking Zack. 

“Maybe. They’re just… a bit of a wild card, for me.”

“So you do have a plan.”

Cloud snorted. It was a bit generous to call it a plan. He had never worked well with those.

“Sure.”

He finally picked up his assembled sandwich and took a bite. It was dry, but he hadn’t cared enough to really dig around in the refrigerator looking for condiments. 

“You don’t have to tell me about it.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

Zack cracked a smile at the bluntness and said, “Y’know, you’re going to drive Genesis up a wall. He dances around with words so much, you just saying things is going to get on his last nerve.”

Cloud raised an eyebrow as he took another bite. Sounded like a waste of time and energy.

“What, do Sephiroth and Angeal humor his wordplay?”

“Well, yeah. Sephiroth will lean in and be just as bad, I think he sees it as a puzzle. Angeal knows how to beat around the bush with him, even though he’s usually pretty blunt otherwise.”

Cloud hummed his understanding. That also sounded like a waste of time, but he had humored Yuffie’s whining and Vincent’s poetic tendencies when they arose. It was something people did for their friends, humor their idiosyncrasies. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth being that close. 

“Sounds like you know them all pretty well. You and Sephiroth close too?”

“I mean, closer than most people, I guess? I’m not really… they’re kind of a trio, y’know? I see them more often than most people because Angeal is my mentor, and I’m kind of the highest ranking Second, so we work together pretty often. We’re not, like, best buddies or anything. I just see him too much for him to bother pretending in front of me all the time.”

“Pretending?”

“To be a hardass, y’know? Well, okay, he is a hardass, but not like the magazines make him out to be. He’s got feelings and a sense of humor like everyone else.”

Cloud had gotten some hint of the man he actually was in Wutai, and that had been disturbing enough. It was stranger still to have it confirmed by Zack . His Zack would never talk about Sephiroth, except maybe to curse his name. He had a very limited understanding of what Sephiroth was actually like in this time period; it had become perfectly clear that he was not the man Cloud had known. But he also was not the stoic model SOLDIER that Cloud had read about as a child, either.

Cloud ruffled his hair and said, “Still weird to think of the Demon of Wutai that way.”

Zack blinked at him a few times before his face turned into complete confusion.

“How do you even know that title?”

Cloud shrugged and waved his hand, saying, “I listen.”

“No, but that was only a thing at our camp. That’s what we called you, before we knew your name. Did you think we were talking about Sephiroth?”

Cloud stilled. He knew things were different, this go-around; that had been the point. To make things so different that the prerequisites for Nibelheim never came to pass. But this was the first time the evidence of the changes was stuck beneath his nose.

Him. The Demon of Wutai. 

He guessed it made sense. He might as well have been a demon to Shinra, and he was fighting on Wutai’s side. It made logical sense, but he was having such a hard time wrapping his brain around it. He blinked a few times, very slowly, trying to grasp this turn of events.

And that was strange, for Zack. Because Cloud seemed to both know too much and not enough. How did he know that title but not who it referred to? Why would he have thought it was Sephiroth? Did he overhear it but miss the context? Had he been eavesdropping at their camp?

And that didn’t even touch what Cloud had said, in the worst of his haze. He’d called Zack by name, but seemed to think they were somewhere very different, where Cloud routinely got mako poisoning, where they had allegedly been taken after being in a reactor despite how there were none in Wutai. He had thought Zack’s hair was longer and that he had a scar, though he certainly had neither of those things. 

There was a long, long pause, before Cloud said, very quietly, “It doesn’t matter.”

They ate their sandwiches in silence after that.

Chapter Text

Cloud couldn’t help it. He was suspicious. 

Things were going far too well. After the physical, Shinra has backed off. Zack’s request that the shot be administered by Sephiroth had been approved (and Cloud was still trying to decide how he felt about that). There were no further discussions of bloodwork. Zack asked him for what to say before he reported in. 

Zack pressed him occasionally for more information, saying he couldn’t even try to help until he knew what was happening. Cloud had sighed and said that he was a Shinra lapdog and should stay that way while silently pointing out on of the listening devices no doubt planted by the Turks. Vincent had long since taught him the high frequency sound they made after Reno tried bugging Seventh Heaven for fun. 

The apartment had been bugged, but of course it was. He had always known it would be. Zack stopped trying to accidentally blow his own cover. 

He was brought into a meeting, no doubt to discuss what the Turks had overheard, and his new practice of only relaying what Cloud approved. He did some quick thinking and said that he was trying to pull him into a false sense of security, but Cloud didn’t know this. Cloud had spent that interview chained to a table so they would know he wouldn’t escape without being watched. 

He could have broken free. It just didn’t suit him at the moment. 

After that was cleared, they were a little more careful about what they said, not just in the apartment but in Shinra in general. 

This was not what was making Cloud suspicious. What made him suspicious was how nice Shinra was being. 

On the whole, they were being incredibly accommodating. Cloud had expected torture and to be locked in a cell. Sephiroth had believed it would be much the same. Even Zack hadn’t thought it would go this smooth. 

He hadn’t seen Hojo since that first day. They backed off about the bloodwork. They accommodated him about the shot. They generally let him do what he wanted. There was even discussion of sending him out on a mission with Zack, if he continued to behave over the next week. 

He and Zack had no restrictions on where they could go. They went to the cafeteria, where people stared and whispered at his presence. They went to the VR Rooms, which Cloud was assured required a high clearance. They went to the gym, where Zack worked out and Cloud watched because, if he had retained his strength through the years after Meteorfall without working for it, why bother now? 

People came up to try to talk to him, especially in the gym. Zack only had access to the Seconds’ gym, which meant plenty of other Seconds were there. They seemed to think that Cloud’s presence meant he was open to questions. Those of them that hadn’t actually been in Wutai had heard, by now, of the strange blond leader who had fought the Firsts to a standstill. 

The Seconds were quickly finding out what the Firsts had learned long ago: that Cloud could be a brick wall when he wanted to. He had witnessed too many conversations wherein Denzel and Marlene tried to pry information out of Vincent not to know how to play this. It was easy to distract them with frustration by simply being stubborn and having a flat affect. 

He was realizing, strangely enough, that many of the people making up Shinra’s illustrious army were children. The SOLDIER program wasn’t very old, with the older members being about Cloud’s age. With the recruitment age at 15, there were many Seconds and Thirds in their teens. The Firsts were still in their teens, after all. 

Having starry-eyed sixteen-year-olds asking him for battle tips was giving him a strange sense of vertigo. He remembered asking Zack these questions himself at around that age, but whose perspective he remembered those conversations from liked to change. Sometimes he was the one asking, sometimes he was the one being asked. When he was the one being asked in reality, it brought the memories closer, and everything grew foggy. 

That was when Cloud would announce that he had enough for the day and loudly ask Zack if he was done yet. 

The week came and went without issue. He “behaved” enough that Shinra allowed them out on a mission. 

It was simple, and far below Cloud’s level: monster extermination in the Wastes outside Midgar. This was so low stress it was actually what Cloud did to de-stress in his own time. He could remember many, many days where life at Seventh Heaven had been too much, and he had torn off into the Wastes on Fenrir, fighting the local fauna just to blow off some steam. 

It was laughably simple, but apparently a standard Second Class mission. He supposed these monsters had been a much bigger challenge when he was first leaving Midgar with Tifa, Aerith, Barret, and Nanaki so many years ago. 

Zack was endlessly excited at the prospect. He kept saying that he couldn’t wait to see Cloud in action, and Cloud kept saying that he didn’t promise any fireworks. He reminded Zack that Cloud wasn’t really a SOLDIER, which made this Zack’s mission. Zack countered that Cloud had been inducted, Cloud said that there had been no official ceremony and he’d signed no paperwork, and they both eventually agreed that they weren’t sure exactly what Cloud’s status here at Shinra was. 

Regardless of his formal status, Cloud ended up in the back of the truck that served as transport, same as Zack. Cloud had insisted that he knew how to drive and that transport was unnecessary. Shinra had said that unless he had a license, they couldn’t allow him to drive the truck. 

Cloud hadn’t realized until that moment that he’d never actually gotten a license. He’d learned how to drive on the backroads of Nibelheim, where no one cared. The next time he was driving he was with AVALANCHE, where they were avoiding the law anyway. By the time he was right with the government again, he was Gaia’s Champion—no one was going to pull him over. 

He hadn’t even realized until that moment what he’d been getting away with by virtue of his celebrity status. 

“Huh,” had been all he had to say to Tseng when his license had been requested. 

Zack had babbled to him excitedly for the whole ride out to the Wastes, which Cloud did not remember taking so long. He could only reason that this driver had no idea what a reasonable speed was. It didn’t occur to him that his usual breakneck speed was abnormal, and something that would be a problem should he ever bother to actually seek his license. 

It seemed like ages before they were stepping out of the vehicle. Cloud could only be glad that his motion sickness had been so vastly improved by the mako. Instead of vomiting the whole ride and falling out of the truck, Cloud only felt mildly queasy when he jumped out. He didn’t even stumble when he landed, which was something he was faintly proud of. He usually fared worse unless he was the one driving. He wondered distantly if being sent back had exposed him to more mako still, further smoothing the edges of his motion sickness, but discarded it as unlikely. 

He rolled his shoulders to work out the stiffness as Zack raised his arms above his head and leaned back to stretch. Tseng stepped out of the truck and watched them calmly. 

“You ready?” Zack asked, looking over to Cloud. 

“Your target was reported within the acre. Find and eliminate the Kalm Fang nest,” Tseng said. 

“We know the mission, thanks,” Cloud said, still not quite willing to be cordial with the Turks. Tseng from his own time was one thing. This Tseng was quite another, and did not have anyone’s best interest at heart beside Rufus’s and the company’s. 

Cloud grabbed Zack by the shoulder and steered him off. After a few yards, he let go to break into a jog, then a run. 

It would be a simple matter to find and destroy the nest, even if it was mako-tainted as the report had said. He wasn’t concerned about that, so much as what he was sure he and Zack were both planning. 

For the first time, they were going to be completely unsupervised. Cloud could hear that there were no bugs on their persons. He knew his own PHS wasn’t bugged, as it was still the model he had brought with him—though it had been tricky rigging a cord that would work to charge it, when none of the current models fit his port. Zack’s was likely bugged, but it would only record during a call. He remembered Reeve mentioning once that he had been glad, while working as Cait Sith, that the bugs of the time worked that way. 

Once they were out of earshot of Tseng, they were free. Zack would have questions, and Cloud had no reasons not to answer them. 

They got far enough away that Cloud slowed to a walk as began looking for tracks. He could do this in his sleep, after all the times he had in his own time while running from his actual responsibilities. 

“You finally gonna spill?” Zack asked, following along with his hands on his hips. 

“I ought to make you do this. It’d be good practice for you.”

“Yeah, but that’d be less time for us to talk. So start talking.”

“I’m a time traveler.”

Zack stopped midstep. Cloud didn’t bother looking up. 

Zack laughed nervously and said, “Good one, what’s this really about?”

“That’s what this is about. I was sent back in time to fix things.”

“That’s not even funny, man. What’s really happening? Are you actually with Wutai? Eco-terrorists? What is it?”

“Kind of both, but mostly the time-travel bit.”

“ Cloud , c’mon. Work with me here.”

Cloud sighed and stopped with the tracks. He saw a print a few yards off that looked promising anyway. He looked up at Zack and spread his hands. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Zack. It’s the truth. Things in the future go south. I tried to fix it, over and over, but it was like applying a band-aid to something that needs stitches. Once it develops, it’s not something that can be fixed . The only option is to stop things from getting to that point.”

Zack stared at him. He pulled in a slow breath and blew it out hard. He clapped his hands together and rubbed the palms against each other. Cloud raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay,” Zack said. “Okay. Alright. Okay, sure, uh-huh.”

“Zack, are you gonna be okay?”

“Sorry, my new buddy just said he’s a time traveler , it’s taking me a minute,” Zack said, scrubbing his hands over his face. “ Gaia , time travel?”

“I mean, I wasn’t very excited about it either.”

Zack gasped and pointed at Cloud, saying, “Is that why you knew my name before anyone told you? And why you thought the Demon of Wutai was Sephiroth?”

Cloud nodded with his mouth in a grim line. At least his slips had been good for something in the end.

“Did you know me?” Zack asked, stepping closer. “Who were we to each other? Was I a hero?”

Cloud looked away, suddenly unsure if he could do this. The labs were flashing before his eyes. Who they were to each other was a loaded question. His ears were ringing with Zack’s old musings on what it meant to be a hero, with Zack telling him he’d be his living legacy. 

“You were a hero.”

Something must have been off about him, his face or his posture or his likely morose tone, because when Zack answered, his tone was much softer.

“I… sorry. If it was world-ending-bad, you probably saw some terrible things, huh?”

Cloud looked back to Zack with an eyebrow raised. Because yes, he had, of course he had, but that wasn’t Zack’s problem. One iteration of this man had made it his problem, and he’d paid a steep price for it. Cloud didn’t want to drag him back into it.

He didn’t want to drag him back into it.

“Listen, I’m only telling you that much so you won’t have so many questions, okay? It’s my problem to fix. Don’t worry about it.”

Zack blinked. Then he let out a small, incredulous laugh.

“I mean, it’s my world too, isn’t it? If it’s at risk, I want to help.”

Cloud thought that Zack had a point. Of course he had a point. If someone had shared such a secret with Cloud, he would want to help too.

But he couldn’t watch Zack die twice.

“It is. And you are helping. But I’m not putting you in the direct line of fire. Not anymore than you already would have been.”

There was only so much to be done, after all. Zack was already so close to Sephiroth as to be fourth-in-command of his army. He would play some part in this, there was no way Cloud could stop that. But he would keep him from it as much as he could. If he could send him to Icicle until after the potential date of the Nibelheim event, he would.

“All due respect, Cloud, but that’s horseshit. You can’t tell me the world’s at stake and then try to protect me. I get that I must have been important to you—that’s why you were avoiding me so much at first, right? You really wanted to talk to me, but didn’t want to give anything away?”

Cloud cursed how perceptive Zack was. He should have known he’d put things together the second he had a scrap of information.

“It doesn’t matter, Zack. You aren’t the man I used to know. It isn’t fair to you to try and force you into his role.” No matter how much seeing Zack was much like seeing a ghost. No matter how much, if he wasn’t paying attention and looked too fast, he often thought he was seeing a ghost. 

“No, I’m not. I’m my own person. But I could fill his shoes, at least a little. You said he was a hero, and I want to be, too. However he got that title, I could do it too.”

“No!” Cloud said, much too loud, too fast, too serious. When Zack blinked wide eyes and looked taken aback, Cloud sucked in a sharp breath. He blew it out hard. “No. You can be a hero in your own right, write your own story. Find some other way.”

Zack softened. He looked over Cloud’s face, eyes roaming. Cloud looked away as the moment drew out longer and longer, the wind of the Wastes whistling between them.

“Okay. I’ll find some other way than whatever he did. But it’d help me avoid that, if I knew what to look out for.”

“Let me worry about it. I’ll keep you away from that situation.”

“Can I at least know what the big threat is?”

Cloud glanced at Zack. He looked anxious. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“There are a lot of people involved in this, and you know some of them. If I tell you, then it puts you in the tight spot of trying not to change your behavior.”

“But you know, and you’ll have to deal with them.”

“They didn’t know me before I knew. There’s no tipping point, where I find out and my behavior might stop matching their expectations. You’re a good actor, Zack, one of the best when you want to be, but it’s a lot to keep up all the time. I was in an easier position, but you were suspicious of me so fast. You knew I was keeping secrets.”

“In fairness, we all knew you were keeping secrets. You were doing the whole secret-y bit pretty strong.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Can you be sure you could keep your cover? Under constant surveillance? It’s going to be bad enough that you know this much, when we can’t talk about it most of the time, with the apartment bugged. Do you want to make things harder for yourself?”

“Well, what about you? You’re alone in enemy territory, no one watching your back, trying to save the world all on your own.”

“I knew what I was getting into when I walked in here. I still walked in. I won’t force this on you.”

“You’re not forcing anything. I volunteer. I’ll watch your back.”

Cloud’s heart constricted sharply. His ears rang with the phrase. He got flashes of him and Zack sneaking back to Cloud’s dorm after curfew, of missions together, of the labs. He blinked rapidly to try and clear the after-images.

“I… guess. I guess that’s okay. Yeah.”

Zack finally, finally grinned again. It was like the sun peeking out from behind cloud cover. 

“I’ll take what I can get! Whatever you need, Cloud, tell me and I’ll help. No questions asked when we’re in Shinra. I get we might be overheard, and there’s bugs everywhere, and I’ll ask you about things while we’re somewhere safe, but just tell me what you need. Anything I can do in the moment, I will.”

Cloud swallowed hard. It meant the world to him to have even this much from Zack . To know that, after so many years, this man had his back again. That he wasn’t truly alone in enemy territory. Zack may not know the truth of what was happening, or the full danger he was in, who he could trust and who he couldn’t, but this was more than enough. 

Cloud gave a hesitant smile as he said, “Thanks, Zack.”

Zack grinned, wide and wild. He clapped a hand to Cloud’s shoulder.

“No problem, buddy. Just one question.”

“... What?”

“How the hell did you go back in time ? Materia?”

“The Planet sent me.”

“The… planet sent you?”

“Gaia is conscious. She’s got a vested interest in her own welfare, obviously, but she cares about the people too. She sent me back.”

“She can do that?”

“I guess? I mean, it happened, so apparently. There wasn’t much time to ask questions.”

“Huh. Can she talk?”

“She can. Most people can’t hear her. I’ve only heard her really talk when she was sending me back.”

“What’s she sound like?”

“Uh… resonant? Beautiful, but weird. Eerie and endless.”

“Seems like it fits.”

Cloud blinked, wondering what the hell that was about. Then Zack winked, and Cloud realized he was distracting him to calm him down, get him on some sort of even ground again. Cloud gave a small, grateful smile.

“C’mon. There are tracks over this way.”

“Lead the way, wise time traveler.”

Cloud rolled his eyes, but smiled faintly. He led the way to the tracks.

The nest was easy to find and easier to handle. Cloud didn’t do anything at all, in fact. He sat on a nearby boulder and called out corrections to Zack’s form and technique as he fought. Now that they weren’t on opposite sides of a war, were very much on the same side in fact, it seemed in his best interest to make Zack the best fighter he could. Not that he wouldn’t have done this in the middle of the war—he would have. Zack’s safety was a priority, and his improved combat ability would help ensure that. He just got to feel a little less guilty about it, that was all.

On their way back to the truck, Cloud nudged Zack with an elbow.

“They’re going to know we talked out here. They sent Tseng along, which means they’re hoping he’ll be able to read something on us when we get back.”

“Oh, did you know Tseng too?”

“That doesn’t matter. Point is, we need some sort of story about what new information I gave you while we were out here. Unless you want to try and lie directly to the Turks, which I wouldn’t recommend. Half-truths are your best bet.”

“How about I tell them your big goal is to save the world? I’ll mention your ecological angle and try and send them sniffing that way. It’s all technically true. You are trying to save the planet. You do hate the reactors for what they’re doing to the planet, which, now that I know she’s aware, does feel worse.”

Cloud looked at Zack and blinked. He had been winding himself up about this as he watched Zack fight, fretting about possible angles, what might and might not work. Zack came to a perfect solution so easily and so readily. 

He was glad they were working together now.

“Okay.”

Zack glanced at him and tilted his head.

“Okay?”

“I mean, that works. I just didn’t expect it to be that simple.”

Zack clapped a hand to his shoulder again and said, “Sometimes, Spike, I think you make things more complicated than they have to be.”

They took their time wandering back to transport. By the time they got to the truck, Tseng was standing, leaning against the driver’s side door. They were discussing the fine points of chocobo breeding, which Cloud knew infinitely more about than Zack did. That didn’t stop Zack from having enthusiastic opinions on the matter.

Zack climbed into the back of transport, still chatting about the virtues of breeding the same color together or cross-breeding. Cloud took a hold of the edge of the door to heave himself in, but glanced at Tseng.

Tseng was watching him, cold and calculating. He knew more had been discussed in the Wastes than chocobo breeding. Of course it had, and Tseng wasn’t stupid. Tseng knew that Zack now knew more than he did when he left. Cloud looked at him evenly, his expression going dead. He blinked at him once and then climbed into the back of the truck.

He just hoped they didn’t interrogate Zack too badly.

Chapter Text

Zack’s interrogation was brief but not brutal. He came back from it looking a little tired, but had flashed two thumbs-up at Cloud with his weary grin. Cloud called it a success. 

They settled into an easy rhythm. Shinra did not let them back out into the Wastes—apparently Zack had learned too little to justify the risk. Instead, they were sent around Midgar, and it was a strange experience. 

In Shinra Tower, the strange flashbacks he got were limited. He spent most of his time on SOLDIER level floors now, whereas he hadn’t really had access to them in his own time. 

But he had spent much time out and about in Midgar, especially the slums. Every inch of Sector 7 had him in a daze. The park made his ears ring. He took the long way around Wall Market instead of cutting through. Zack humored his idiosyncrasies and didn’t ask questions about places he avoided. 

He wouldn’t even walk down the street with Seventh Heaven on it, afraid of what he would find. 

He knew where Zack was leading him now, though. He recognized this path better than any other, had roamed the surrounding areas for years past when he should have stopped. He had even lived here for a time. Of course he knew they were going to the church. 

He just wasn’t sure what to do about it, and was taking too long to decide. 

On the one hand, it could help. Maybe Aerith would have some insight, some sort of sage wisdom available even at her young age. He couldn’t be too blunt of course—the Turks would be watching. He wouldn’t want to give her too much information and put her at risk, anyway. But she could do a lot with very little. It might help a great deal. 

On the other hand, that meant seeing Aerith. The flashes he had gotten on Advent Day had been one thing, but seeing her here, healthy and whole and alive again—he didn’t know if his heart could bear it. He had (sort of) learned to forgive himself for his part in her death, but he was terrified to know if she forgave him as well. 

But, before he made up his mind, he was standing in front of the church’s double doors as Zack said, “Trust me, Spike, you’re gonna love her, she’s an angel—nothing to be worried about.”

Cloud didn’t answer. He followed inside, terrified and silent. 

“Hey there, beautiful,” Zack called. “Come here often?”

Cloud’s vision split for a second, between the church and the labs, where he remembered Zack telling him about the cheesy pick-up-lines he used that never failed to make Aerith laugh. Then the labs faded, replaced by double vision of two churches, one with water in place of the flowers. He shook his head. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Aerith said on a laugh, her back turned to them as she gardened. She brushed her hands together, then dusted off her skirt as she stood. She turned with a wide grin that faded as she saw she had additional company. She looked considering instead. 

“Sorry to drop in so sudden, but I’ve got a friend I wanted you to meet,” Zack said, strolling down the aisle. Cloud made his way much more slowly. 

“I see that,” she said absently. “I was wondering when you’d bring him.”

Cloud’s breath caught in his chest. 

“... Huh?”

“Do you…” Cloud started, before giving up. It was too much to hope for. 

“Remember?” Aerith said with a wry twist of the lips. Cloud’s hopes skyrocketed. “Not quite.” They crashed to the dirt. “But I got a crash course.”

Cloud blinked, feeling dizzy from his yo-yoing emotions. 

“What does that mean?” he whispered. 

“It means I’m not your Aerith, but I know what’s happening. Visions. I think you might be familiar, Champion?”

Cloud hissed in a breath. He hated that title, much as Gaia liked to use it. 

“We shouldn’t talk about this here,” he finally said, glancing around. 

Aerith shook her head, saying, “They're gone right now. Change of shift.”

“Who’s gone?” Zack asked. 

“The Turks that keep an eye on me. Don’t worry about it, Zack,” Aerith said, her smile returning briefly. 

“They watch you? What do you mean, visions? What’s happening?”

“How much does he know?” Aerith asked Cloud. 

“The time travel bit, and that Gaia sent me. That’s about it.”

“But so much has changed. Shouldn’t he know?”

“More will change still, if I have my way. I don’t want him in the line of fire, or in a position where he might let something slip. Better that he doesn’t know what he doesn’t need to.”

“Your duty is to save the world, Champion, not one man.”

Cloud winced visibly. 

“My name is Cloud , and I’m not letting things go how they did last time.”

“Of course not. But we’re all acceptable sacrifices to protect Gaia, Cloud.”

There was a flash of her, on her knees with her hands folded in prayer, that flickered before him. 

“I know . I know. But I don’t—if that part goes the same as last time, I won’t make it. I don’t think I’ll be any help if—if…”

“As long as you’re focused. This is important.”

“I am focused. I’m just trying to make sure I can keep my head in the game.”

“Good. So, what do you need from me?”

“I mean… nothing yet. Zack wanted to make a social call,” Cloud said, turning to look at him. Zack looked amazed and a little dazed. “I didn’t know you’d know anything.”

Aerith hummed, then tilted her head. 

“She didn’t tell you anything?”

“I’m not—“ Cloud glanced at Zack. “I’m not like you, I can’t usually hear her.”

Aerith’s brow pinched. 

“You should be able to. All WEAPONs can.”

“... I’m sorry what?”

Cloud’s mouth went dry. His head spun. His heart raced. 

He couldn’t be. Could he?

Aerith looked confused. 

“Haven’t you always been?”

Cloud laughed, and the sound was a little hysterical. 

“ No ? I’m just—I’m just a guy , Aerith. A guy with shit luck, yeah, but not special . And definitely not. WEAPON, good gods.”

Aerith frowned. 

“I don’t know, Cloud. She was clear. She called you the Champion, the Gold WEAPON.”

Cloud’s head swam as surely as his heart sank. The words rang like a bell toll through him, bringing an awful weight of truth. 

My Golden Champion. 

Cloud clapped a hand to his temple, wincing as the words ripped through him. It was hard to hear, this far from the Crater, but apparently still possible. The words were not as easy to bear, this far from the WEAPONs’ home, but that didn’t make them less clear. 

They brought a terrible sense of finality with them. 

“See?” Aerith said, her voice sweet in his ringing ears. “Her Golden Champion.” 

“... What the fuck,” Cloud whispered. 

Aerith finally laughed at that, becoming less serious. She shifted her weight to one hip and tilted her head. 

“There’s nothing to be done about it, Cloud. Some things just are.”

“I don’t—I don’t know what this means. What this entails. What the fuck to do about this.”

“You only have a few options. You could go home,” and in that instance, Cloud knew with dreadful certainty that she meant the Crater and not Nibelheim, “where you can hear better. Or you could talk to Vincent.”

“Vincent? What’s he got to do with anything?”

“Chaos is a WEAPON as well. He should know more about it.”

“Doesn’t he have the same problems hearing?”

“Probably. But he’s always been a WEAPON. He should know the gist.”

Cloud groaned and rubbed at his brow. He wasn’t even sure where Vincent was right now. And Chaos could be a finicky little devil when he wanted to be. 

“I’ll… see if I can’t find him.”

“If you give me your PHS number, I’ll put him in contact with you when he stops by next.”

“He’s been here?”

“He stops by from time to time.”

“I—I think I need a chance to think. You two—do whatever you usually do.”

Cloud turned and walked away. He hoped Aerith would forgive him his rudeness—he was still a little stunned. But she had always been understanding. 

“Take your time,” she called after him. 

He was glad the understanding bit hadn’t changed. Cloud went and sat at the second pew, leaning back against it and folding his arms. He watched as Zack sidled hesitantly over time Aerith. 

“So,” he started. 

“So,” she answered, blinking back at him. 

“You hear the Planet?”

“You’re friends with a time traveler. This is what you’re hung up on?”

“I mean, he’s said he’s heard the Planet. But I didn’t know you did.”

Cloud saw Aerith take his hand and kiss his cheek with a smile. 

“I’m still me, though.”

Cloud saw Zack’s dopey smile and stopped listening. 

He had enough to worry about without adding their relationship to the list. 

Apparently. 

He wasn’t sure what to do about being a WEAPON of all things. He wasn’t sure what that meant for his physicality. He wasn’t sure what that meant about his mako tolerance and levels—what that meant for his impending mako shot. 

He spread his fingers and looked down at his palms. He didn’t feel different. He had fought the same as he always did, in the war. His body responded as he expected. The only thing different seemed to be his connection to the Planet. But he had heard Gaia before he went back, as well. 

Had he been a WEAPON for years and just never known about it?

Cloud sank lower on the pew. He gnawed at his lip, watching Zack help Aerith garden. 

He hoped Chaos had answers. He needed them sorely. 

Chapter Text

Cloud was on pins and needles. 

He had been for the last few days, since they got the call. Business was wrapping up with Wutai. Genesis and Angeal were being kept on the island for a while longer, until everything was officially done, but Sephiroth was being sent back as a de-escalation method. Removing their most powerful weapon from the battlefront would go a long way in proving they were serious about peace. 

Which meant he was about to be Cloud’s problem again. 

Which was good, Cloud told himself. Better to have the man nearby, where he could keep an eye on him. Better to spend the time trying to judge if he needed to put him down or not. But he had enjoyed his respite. It had been nice not to be on high alert all the time. And he was perfectly aware that, when someone more capable of potentially keeping him in line arrived, Zack would no longer be his handler. 

That ‘someone more capable’ was on a chopper back to Midgar right now. And if Shinra had their way, and it was looking like they would, the two of them would be stuck together like glue. Would he move into Sephiroth’s apartment now? Would Sephiroth be chaperoning the missions he went on? How was he supposed to keep Zack in the loop if he only ever saw him in bugged areas from now on? How was he supposed to contact Vincent ?

Cloud groaned and dropped his forehead onto the counter he was sitting at. Zack patted his shoulder in sympathy, shoving the last of his breakfast in his mouth. 

“Listen,” he said, mouth still full of food. “I gotta warn you about something.”

Cloud lifted his head, a wary look on his face. 

“What?”

“I’m sure you already guessed that you’re gonna be passed off to Sephiroth.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Once he’s back, they’re gonna want to do your mako injection.”

Cloud immediately stiffened. He sat upright. 

“Why?”

“Well, there’s no reason left to stall, y’know? He’s the only one other than Hojo that regularly gives them.”

The dread was curling, dark and dank, in the pit of his stomach. 

“I just didn’t want it to take you by surprise,” Zack continued, watching Cloud’s expression with sympathy on his own. 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Cloud muttered. 

And he was. He was glad he knew ahead of time, because if he didn’t, he doubted it would have gone smoothly. He would have probably started a physical fight with Sephiroth, or tried to flee, or tear him apart verbally until he backed down. None of those were good options. So instead, he told himself it was for the best that he spent the next few hours sick with dread as they waited for Sephiroth to arrive. 

Cloud had thought they would go meet Sephiroth on the landing pad for a formal exchange from handler to handler. He kept waiting for when Zack’s PHS would go off, and they would make their way up to the roof. 

He was not expecting a curt, formal knock on the door: three quick, solid raps. 

He glanced at the door, then at Zack, who reached out and squeezed his hand. He nodded in encouragement before standing, and it was only then that Cloud realized who was on the other side of the door.

He took a slow, steadying breath, letting his eyes close. He reminded himself very carefully of where he was, and who he was with, and what was at stake. His time with Zack had been a respite of sorts. He’s gotten to make a bit of progress without having to be constantly on guard. That would not be the case here. Sephiroth was both observant and intrigued; not the best combination for Cloud. 

“Hey, sir. Glad you made it home alright,” Cloud heard Zack say. Cloud opened his eyes and blew out his breath slowly. 

“There was little to do, and you brought the danger home with you.”

Cloud carefully reminded himself that this was not his Sephiroth. That he had to be wary and on guard, yes, but that outright murder attempts were unlikely. The whole point was to see if he was the threat he had the potential to become. It was still unclear. His heart didn’t need to be racing the way it was, but he couldn’t much stop it. 

“He hasn’t been a danger at all, honestly. Pretty compliant, if you ask me.”

“Yes, well, I suppose there are no trees here to throw people into.”

Whatever Zack was going to say was lost as Sephiroth came to stand in front of Cloud. Cloud forced his eyes up to meet Sephiroth’s own.

He wasn’t sure what to make of what he saw. Because Sephiroth… did not seem to loom the way he usually did. The Sephiroth he had known was larger than life, with a presence that matched. And this Sephiroth’s presence was certainly palpable, bearing with it a kind of gravitas, but it wasn’t choking the way Cloud was used to. Heavy, but more like a weighted blanket than crushing stone. 

Being separated from this younger version for as long as he was meant that he had forgotten the differences some. He had expected his immaculate paragon of danger, not this baby-faced general with his hair in disarray from the rotors of the chopper. Cloud couldn't remember his Sephiroth’s hair ever even getting in his face, much less in such disorder. 

It threw Cloud a bit off-kilter, but he knew his face remained as impassive as Sephiroth’s. And that was what was important, he reminded himself. That he learned this Sephiroth, while giving nothing away himself. 

The moment stretched uncomfortably, the two men in a stand off. 

Until, as if the lengthy pause hadn’t happened, Cloud said, “I’m sure I could find a work-around here, if Genesis decides to be a toddler at me again.”

“He’s a commander, not a toddler.”

“Then he ought to act like one.”

Strangely enough, the corner of Sephiroth’s mouth twitched up. He wouldn’t have even noticed if he wasn’t so tuned into Sephiroth’s microexpressions. He almost thought he was seeing things again, but his ears weren’t ringing, the way they tended to when Sephiroth or Jenova messed with his head. 

Had he ever seen Sephiroth smile? Not smirk, or sneer, or the feral, knife-edged grin that could take his mouth at times, but a real, genuine smile?

“Angeal tells him that all the time,” Sephiroth said, calmly and casually, as if he hadn’t just baffled the daylights out of Cloud. “Are you coming?”

“Depends. Where are we going?”

“My apartment. I assume you know the lay of the building by now?”

“I do.”

“Then the only thing left is to show you where you’ll be staying for the foreseeable future. You will likely be granted your own rooms, once Shinra trusts you. But I gather that is a long way off.”

Cloud glanced at Zack, who was being remarkably quiet. He looked visibly uncomfortable and unsure. Cloud let his eyes go soft as he watched Zack. He nodded once in reassurance, trusting Zack’s innate ability to read people to pick up the expression. 

Then he planted his palms on the counter and stood. 

“Let me get my things, and we’ll get out of your hair, Zack.”

“Don’t bother.”

Cloud looked up at Sephiroth, raising an eyebrow. 

“Excuse me?”

“Uniforms in your size have already been sent to my rooms. All you need is your blade.”

Cloud blinked. He did already have his PHS in his pocket, and that was the only real possession he carried still. It was the important one, that carried numbers he should not have inside, that led to PHS’s that did not exist yet. It was a model that did not exist yet. He kept it close at all times. 

“Sure. Alright. Let’s go then,” Cloud said, rounding the counter to make his way toward where First Tsurugi was propped against the wall. He grabbed it and purposefully swung it an inch from Sephiroth to put it in the holster on his back, to see what he would do. Sephiroth didn’t budge at all, merely blinking at Cloud and raising an eyebrow. A ghost of a frown passed Cloud’s face. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t calm indifference to a threat. 

Cloud stepped around Sephiroth and held his hand out to Zack, despite wanting to hug him; he didn’t need Sephiroth to understand they had gotten as close as they had. Or at least, he didn’t need to know so soon. 

“Thanks, Zack.”

Zack took his hand and tugged Cloud into the hug they both wanted. Cloud hesitantly returned the embrace, trying to keep as much emotional distance in his manner as he could for the sake of their audience.

“Take care of yourself,” Zack said. It was carefully chosen, to imply ‘be careful’ and ‘stay safe’ without saying it. 

Zack didn’t know Sephiroth was the threat, and it was for the best. He was anxious enough, just knowing Cloud was going to be on his own, with someone that wasn’t on his side. He’d be a mess if he knew Cloud was well and truly walking into the lion’s den this time. Better to keep that to himself. 

Cloud pulled away sooner than either of them wanted, but after when he probably should have. He patted Zack’s back awkwardly as he did so, and Zack sighed. 

“I’ll be around, Zack, you’ll still see me.”

Zack smiled, but it was smaller than usual.

“I know! Maybe we’ll still go on missions together. It’d be a shame to make the General go on the missions they have you on.”

“It’s a shame Cloud is on those missions at all,” Sephiroth said. “If they’re intent on wasting one powerful asset, they may waste another.”

“We’ll see what happens,” was the compromise Cloud offered. 

“I’m sure we’ll see you soon, Zack,” Sephiroth said, before opening the door and holding it open expectantly for Cloud. 

“General, sir,” Zack said, watching as Cloud sighed, waved briefly at Zack, and then headed out the door. 

The walk was eerily silent. 

Well, not completely silent. There was the bustle of people passing. There was the soft ding! of the elevator as they stepped inside, and its humming as it shot them upward. But there was not so much as a peep from Sephiroth. 

Not until they were safely in Sephiroth’s apartment at least. 

“Now, Cloud,” Sephiroth said, stepping into his apartment, resting Masamune in a bracket on the wall. “I feel there are many things you aren’t telling me.”

Already ?

“Trying the blunt approach instead of the mind games?”

“Have the mind games ever gotten anywhere with you?”

“No.”

“Then a different angle is called for,” Sephiroth said, turning to face Cloud, who lingered in the entryway. He did not approach, didn’t press into Cloud’s space as his future-self would have, instead leaving a comfortable distance between them. 

“This one won’t get you anywhere either.”

“Perhaps it might, if I tell you that what you say here, stays here.”

Cloud looked at Sephiroth warily. 

“I know how Shinra operates, Sephiroth.”

“Listen, Cloud. Do you hear any surveillance equipment?”

For once, Cloud did what Sephiroth told him without fuss. He paused, listening carefully for the humming of the bugs he knew must be there but… didn’t hear any. His eyes cut to Sephiroth, who nodded at him. 

“I keep my spaces clean,” Sephiroth explained. “It’s a privilege my rank affords me, that they tolerate it.”

“So what?” Cloud pressed. “Whatever I tell you, you’ll just run and tell Shinra.”

“If you mention something pertinent to the company, yes. If it is something personal, I don’t see why it can’t stay between us.”

Cloud narrowed his eyes, remembering a previous Sephiroth’s obsession with him. 

“Why do you want to know personal things?”

Sephiroth tilted his head, saying, “Is it so odd that I would want to know my peer? My better, perhaps. You see, I never thought I’d be surpassed. Of course I’m curious about the only person to outstrip me.”

“Then get used to being curious.”

“How long do you intend to be stubborn? With us in constant proximity, you are bound to give things away. Would you not prefer to control what I know?”

“And give you additional information on top of what will slip? No thank you.”

Sephiroth sighed and turned away, going to what appeared to be a kitchen off to the left. Considering the conversation over, Cloud went to go investigate the room, feeling more on edge for the confirmation of Sephiroth’s interest. 

Sephiroth’s apartment was chic and modern. Everything was sharp angles and grayscale. The tv was a large flatscreen mounted on the wall, the couches were black leather, matching the lone armchair with chrome accents. It looked exactly as a wealthy man’s apartment should. It looked out of a magazine. 

It looked like no one lived there. 

There were no personal touches. No art, no accents with any sort of personality, no photographs of loved ones. No knick knacks, no trinkets, not even a stray receipt. 

Cloud didn’t like what it said about how isolated Sephiroth might be. 

He wandered into the kitchen after Sephiroth, who was leaning against the counter drinking a glass of water. He arched an eyebrow at Cloud when he entered. 

“Do you not spend much time here?”

Sephiroth blinked slowly at him. He set down his glass. 

“I’m sorry, am I given to understand that I cannot ask questions of you, but I should answer your own?”

Cloud folded his arms over his chest. 

“That’s not the same. I’m not reporting back to anyone about you, am I?”

“And I already told you that I will not be doing that, either.”

“How am I supposed to believe that? You know your reputation as Shinra’s lapdog as well as I do.”

Sephiroth sighed and said, “Yes, I’m quite familiar with how Wutai sees me. Not everything you hear is true, Cloud.”

“Why should I believe that?”

“Then don’t believe me, and isolate yourself here with no comrades. I understand that you’ve taken a shine to Zack, but you are unlikely to see him very often until you’re cleared for duty. Which won’t happen any time soon, if you continue to refuse to give Shinra anything .”

Cloud blinked at him, stunned. He offered a shaky little laugh. Was Sephiroth offering to help him? Help him prevent the future in which he destroyed everything?

Now there was a thought. If Sephiroth really was not the man he had known, then he would have a vested interest in never becoming that person. He might find no more fervent ally than his target himself. 

It was something to think about, but later. When he had time to consider the pros and cons, to weigh what he knew of Sephiroth, to gather more information to be certain if he really was different. If he was the same man, and he explained how to go about getting more power than he’d ever imagined, well, they were all fucked. 

“Give me… give me some time. Let me think about it. I’m not saying no.”

Sephiroth nodded, a knowing look in his eye. 

“I will do my best to prove myself worthy of your trust.”

Cloud swallowed. A part of him hoped that would never happen, his gut screaming that he couldn’t trust Sephiroth with anything at all. But another part of him ached to trust him, to trust this different version, that he would be different enough that Cloud wouldn’t have to kill him again. 

But he knew that part to be foolish. 

“We’ll see,” was all he could offer. 

“In the meantime,” Sephiroth said, going over to open the refrigerator, “we have a more urgent matter to discuss.”

When he turned back to Cloud, there were several syringes full of mako in his hand. 

Cloud’s stomach immediately sank. He swallowed hard, realizing that, even if he had been warned, it wasn’t enough. He still wanted to run. 

When Cloud didn’t say anything, Sephiroth continued, “You refused to have your levels drawn, but I understand you know your levels?”

“I do,” Cloud said, his voice softer than intended. 

“Then, how much can you take? The sooner we get this done, the sooner your system will acclimate to it, and the sooner you will feel normal again.”

Cloud pulled in a deep breath, and then blew it out slowly. 

“Right,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet Sephiroth’s, steel suddenly in them. “Let’s do this.”

Sephiroth nodded, approving of what he saw in that expression.

“On the couch, then. Best not to do this standing.”

Sephiroth brought the bag of syringes with him, and followed Cloud to the living room. Cloud sat on the couch, and Sephiroth sat at his side. When they were settled, Sephiroth removed his leather gloves, and put on clean nitrile ones from the plastic bag the mako was in. He pulled out an alcohol pad, tore it open, and began cleaning the crook of Cloud’s arm. His fingers were strangely gentle as they cupped his elbow to hold him steady. 

It was… better and worse than the infirmary. Because there, there had been lab coats, and a painful amount of white, and the whole place reeked of antiseptic and recycled air. Here, the smell of the alcohol still hit him like a freight train, but he could ground himself at least a little. Look at the television mounted on the wall, and Masamune in its bracket. Look at Sephiroth in his leathers, distinctly not a lab coat. He did feel a bit foggy, but it had been worse, before. Everything sounded far away and distant, but not quite like being underwater. 

Oh, wait, what he was hearing was Sephiroth’s voice. He was saying something. 

“What?” Cloud interrupted. 

“I said, I need to know the correct dosage.”

Cloud licked his lips. 

“25ccs.”

He could feel Sephiroth’s eyes on him. 

“You understand that, the more enhanced you are, the less mako it will take to push you into poisoning, because your blood is already so saturated with it, yes?”

“I know.”

“Then do you know the standard SOLDIER injection is 50ccs? Even my own is 35.”

“Listen, I know my levels.”

“If I underdose you, I will know. You won’t have the correct physical reaction. I will just have to repeat the injection, and I’m given to understand you dislike needles.”

“I know my dose, Sephiroth. Get it over with.”

Sephiroth sighed and tossed his head to flip his hair over his shoulder and out of the way. He screwed a needle onto a syringe, and Cloud pointedly looked away. He focused on his breathing and closed his eyes, knowing it would do him no good to see what was coming. If he had learned anything from the labs, it was that. 

There was a prick, and Cloud gasped in a shaky breath. He pinched his eyes closed tighter, feeling the familiar burning chill of mako in his veins. He focused on breathing steadily as he felt it spread. 

He knew what this felt like, of course he did. That was part of the problem, you see. Because he knew what a standard injection felt like, and he knew what it felt like to be pushed slowly and steadily, with all the inevitability of a sunset, into mako poisoning. 

Cloud felt his breath pick up in panic. 

This was definitely the latter. 

There was nothing to be done, now. The mako was in him, and there was no way to get it out. He would just have to pray he didn’t wake up in a tank somewhere. 

Cloud turned to Sephiroth, swaying dangerously, and grabbed him by both lapels. He was saying something, but Cloud couldn’t hear it over the rushing in his ears. 

“If I wake up in the Science Department,” Cloud slurred, “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill everyone in the building and then burn it down. I swear I will. If you hand me over, you’ll… regret it…”

With that, the last hold on reality that Cloud had slipped through his fingers. 

Everything faded to black. 

Chapter Text

Sephiroth paced at the foot of the bed, glancing occasionally at Cloud.

This was why he had wanted to take Cloud’s levels.

He had given the dose, exactly as instructed. 25ccs of mako, introduced at a slow, steady rate, as any mako injection should be done. This wasn’t exactly what he’d been concerned about—because this was absurd. No one should be so enhanced that such a small amount of mako would poison them. It was unheard of. Sephiroth was unsure how Cloud was alive with how much of his blood must be mako at this point. 

Sephiroth had been concerned about having to repeat the injection, but that concern seemed laughably insignificant now. He should have considered this, because he should always consider every possibility, but how would he have ever guessed? To his knowledge, he was the most enhanced person alive. Given, it made some sense that Cloud might be more enhanced, with how their fights tended to go, but how could he be that enhanced?

Sephiroth came to a stop at the foot of the bed, watching Cloud on the bed in his spare bedroom. Like anyone in the early stages of mako poisoning, he was lying completely still, his chest barely rising and falling. In later stages, there would be small movements, quiet vocalizations, until he finally got control of his body back. 

There was no way to tell how long this process would take. It could be a day, it could be months. It could be years—Sephiroth had heard of would-be SOLDIERs who never came out of their mako poisoning at all. He didn’t believe 25ccs was enough to do that, but he hadn’t thought it was enough to cause poisoning in the first place. 

Things were fine, for now. Shinra did not know what had occurred. He had been given one week with Cloud before missions were resumed. The intention had been to keep him isolated with Sephiroth, who would work to wear down his walls, until he left pertinent information slip. 

That plan was out the window, now, but it did help this situation. He had one week to get Cloud fully functional again. After that, questions would be asked. There was little he could say to deter Shinra. If he claimed Cloud was refusing to cooperate, more operatives would be sent to help strong arm him into compliance. If he admitted Cloud was mako poisoned, he would surely be sent to the Science Department—as Cloud clearly seemed to know.

Sephiroth had no intention of passing Cloud to the Science Department. He was perfectly aware of how Cloud would be treated there. Sephiroth’s own childhood had been bad enough, but he’d been a highly valued asset. Cloud was the enemy, barely kept on a leash. They would pull him apart with no regard for his health or sanity, and maybe, maybe consider putting him back together again. 

He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy, and he had stopped seeing Cloud as an enemy at all quite a while ago. 

He would do what he could to bide time. But if Cloud didn’t wake within the week, he didn’t know what they would do.

———————————————

“Champion .”

Cloud groaned. He opened his eyes and sat up in what appeared to be the Northern Crater, but everything looked strange. Hazy. Ice and rock twisting and curling in ways that couldn’t be natural.

He remembered the last time the scenery looked like this.

Godsdammit, he’d been mako poisoned again.

“Listen,” Cloud started, folding his legs and looking around for Gaia. “You could have given me a heads up. You could have given me a heads up about a lot of things. What the hell am I supposed to do if he hands me to the Science Department?”

“Take the opportunity to find Jenova, I expect.”

“Har har. I won’t be able to do much of anything in a mako tank.”

“Fear not. You are safe. You rest in his bed .”

“In… his bed.”

Cloud fought not to blush. He very carefully did not think about any implications there might be in that.

“You have questions. Ask them. The introduction of new Lifestream to you allows us this chance to speak, but it will not last long.”

“Okay. Okay, so what are my mako levels? Because they’ll want to dose me again, and I will not trust Sephiroth twice.”

“Your blood is half mako. Sending you back saturated you in the Lifestream. It is what allowed me to make you into a WEAPON at all.”

“Yeah, about that. Were you gonna tell me? What does that even entail?”

“ It will allow us contact when you are in the Crater. Should worst come to worst, I will have sway over you, to prevent you giving over the Black Materia.”

“Great,” Cloud grumbled, rubbing at his brow. “Just what I need, another person with sway over me.”

“ I am not Jenova, nor am I Sephiroth. You needn’t fear me.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it. The less people in my head, the better. Anything else I should know about being a WEAPON?”

“ You are tied to me, yet still partially human. In many ways, you are now like Aerith was. You will be able to create the water, as she did, when the time comes.”

“Thanks, but let’s not let it get to the point of Geostigma, okay?”

“ Should we succeed, it will not. That does not mean the water will not be necessary along the way.”

“Uh… sure, okay. Do I have any other, like, powers or something I should know about?”

“You will be able to fly, should the need arise.”

“Oh. Well, that might be handy.”

“Time grows thin. Ask your questions.”

“Does… does he have to die?”

“ Champion, had I simply wanted him dead, I would have arranged for it to be so. You humans are such fickle things. Should I have killed him, another would have arisen in his place. You understand humanity. You will decide whether or not it is necessary to shed his blood. If there is a way around it, and you wish to find it, do so. If it will be simpler to end him, do so. It is your turn to weave fate. Take the skein and weave as you will. Your fingers are deft, and will spin the most elegant pattern.”

Then there was a rushing in Cloud’s ears. If she said anything else, he didn’t hear it, because he toppled right over into the snow.

And then he woke up, safe in Sephiroth’s bed, as promised.

“Elegant pattern my ass,” Cloud grumbled, sitting up in the bed. He looked around, glad the lights were off. His head was pounding as it was, he didn’t need any bright lights making it worse. 

He caught sight of a glass of water on the nightstand and quickly drained it, feeling much better after he did so. Gaia, he’d been parched. Who knew how long he was out, but it was long enough that he was dehydrated. He slowly angled his legs until they draped over the edge of the bed, then finally put his weight on them. His legs wobbled a bit beneath him, but seemed to be holding him okay. He walked a few steps before stumbling into the wall, catching himself on his shoulder.

“Fucking hell ,” Cloud hissed, slowly getting his feet stable again beneath him. By the time he pushed away from the wall and looked up, Sephiroth was standing before him, the door open and enough light streaming in that Cloud winced away.

“You could have called. You’re in no condition to be walking unassisted,” Sephiroth said. He came to stand at Cloud’s side and held his arm out for Cloud to take and use for balance.

Cloud glared up at him and said, “I’m fine .”

“Clearly you’re not. Take my arm and stop being stubborn.”

“ No ,” Cloud said, because of course he did—anyone who called him stubborn should know it would only make him more stubborn.

“Fine,” Sephiroth said, before he did the absolutely absurd.

He swept Cloud up off his feet in a princess carry.

“What the—put me down!” Cloud said, trying to squirm his way out of the hold, but his limbs weren’t listening to him quite how they should. His struggles were kittenish at best, the mako sapping the strength from him still.

“If this is the most you can protest, then you have no business walking on your own.”

“Bastard.”

“Apparently.”

Cloud folded his arms over his chest and tried very hard not to think about how his mortal enemy was carrying him like a damsel in distress. He reminded himself that it probably was the most comfortable way to be carried. But then he was just thinking about how he’d rather fall on his ass then be carried by Sephiroth . Besides, he was accustomed to being the strongest one around. He carried other people, people didn’t carry him .

Eventually, Cloud was set down on the couch, while Sephiroth disappeared into the kitchen without a word.

Cloud could hear him rustling around in the refrigerator, the clink of plates, and then the sound of the microwave humming. He folded his arms again and scowled at the ceiling.

Gaia really should have told him at least half of that when she first sent him back.

Then there was the beeping of the microwave, and soon enough, Sephiroth was coming around into the living room with a bowl of soup on a lap tray. 

“I’m not an invalid,” Cloud groused as it was set across his legs.

“Of course not. And if you like, we can spar later, and you can thrash me soundly. But for now, you haven’t eaten in days, and need time to finish recovering. You are far from the first mako poisoned SOLDIER I have assisted, Cloud.”

It did, admittedly, soothe the sting to his pride that this was just something Sephiroth did, and was not a special favor to him.

Still, he huffed, “I’m not a SOLDIER.”

“That is a mere formality at this point.”

They lapsed into silence, as Cloud worked slowly on his soup, fighting the turning of his empty stomach, and Sephiroth worked on something on his PHS.

Eventually, Cloud had enough time to swallow his pride and finally say, “Thank you. For not taking me to the Science Department. I know Shinra would have wanted you to.”

Sephiroth carefully put aside his PHS, clearly considering something.

“If you’d like to thank me, perhaps you can tell me why you told me the incorrect dose.”

Cloud looked away, back down to his soup, which he stirred absently with his spoon.

Shit, he hadn’t thought of an excuse.

“I… forgot.”

“You forgot.”

“... Yeah.”

“You’ll forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

“I… my mako levels went up, recently. That was my old dose. I was so used to the old levels, had them stable for a while, that I forgot about the increase. I didn’t lie on purpose—it’s not like I like being mako poisoned.”

Sephiroth paused, then hummed in thought.

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t put yourself in such a vulnerable position in enemy territory. What is the correct dosage?”

“I… maybe we just shouldn’t do any more injections.”

“There will need to be more injections, Cloud. The company requires it for all SOLDIERs.”

“Can’t they make an exception?”

“They make a lot of exceptions for you, Cloud, and you already agreed to this.”

Cloud sighed and took another mouthful of soup to stall, quickly doing the math in his head for the correct dose.

Eventually, he mumbled, “10ccs.”

“... Ten.”

“Yeah.”

“You understand that for that to be your limit, your blood would have to be around 50% mako.”

“Yeah.”

“You understand that such levels are entirely lethal.”

Cloud just took another spoonful of soup, purposefully slurping at it.

Sephiroth sighed in irritation, saying, “I understand you want to avoid another round of poisoning, Cloud, but—”

“Listen, I’m telling you the truth, okay? Do you want to deal with me being poisoned again? You think you can keep it a secret a second time? Worst case, I’m wrong, and you underdose me. Just don’t tell Shinra you underdosed me. It’s that simple.”

Sephiroth frowned, looking down at his lap, hiding behind the fall of his hair in a strange, almost vulnerable maneuver that Cloud had certainly never seen before. He grasped that Sephiroth must be having a hard time, what with hiding things from Shinra when he was usually their perfect poster child as far as Cloud knew, but why would that make him almost shy like this?

“Fine.”

Cloud let out a breath of relief, putting his spoon down in the now-empty bowl.

“Hey,” he said softly, the way he did when Denzel was retreating in on himself. “Seriously, thank you. You’ve done more for me than I expected. I’m grateful.”

Cloud was carefully keeping himself from thinking too closely at the words. He knew, from experience with Denzel, how to handle moments like these. He knew the right things to say, for once. He was just determinedly avoiding thinking about who he was saying them to, and trying not to wonder why he gave a damn at all if Sephiroth pulled away some. 

Sephiroth looked up at him, confused and almost hesitant. He nodded slowly, before climbing to his feet. He went over and took the tray from Cloud.

Before he stepped away, he said, “You’re welcome. Cloud.”

Then he walked into the kitchen, and Cloud was left on his own.

Wondering what the fuck he was doing, and what had come over him. Who cared if Sephiroth got a little shy sometimes! It wasn’t Cloud’s job to comfort him! Good Gaia, was that what he had done? Tifa would box his ears if she knew. 

But, for the first time, the truth really hit Cloud, in a way it hadn’t before.

He had known this wasn’t his Sephiroth. He’d known it from his baby face, and the way he’d laughed when Cloud put Genesis up a tree, and from his small but sincere smile. But a part of him had remained in doubt. That maybe these things were an act, or a coverup, or that perhaps even he wasn’t aware of his own nature.

But the man that burned Nibelheim was not this man, who kept his secrets, covered for him with Shinra, carried him so he wouldn’t fall, and made him fucking soup . Cloud could barely be considered anything but an enemy. He wanted to say that Sephiroth was only interested in picking him apart, that that was the only reason he was trying to preserve Cloud at all, and maybe that was true. But, fundamentally, he just was not the man Cloud knew yet.

He knew it was still possible. That he could become that man, should the correct events happen. But now that Cloud realized this man was just a normal human still, he realized something damning.

That he didn’t remember any significant events between Wutai and Nibelheim.

Cloud knew what had happened to him . How he’d left home, and joined the infantry. Befriended Zack, and hung around with him. But most of his time in the infantry was one big blur, the only clear spots being memories he and Zack shared, and he was sure he didn’t even have all of those.

So what the hell had been going on with Sephiroth to turn him from this to the kind of man that razed a village for sport?

Cloud felt panic tighten his chest. He needed to find out what had happened. He needed to remember somehow. Because if he didn’t, they were going to go down the same road, and Cloud was going to not only lose this version of Sephiroth, but damn the whole world in the process. 

Because he was certain, now, that this Sephiroth was redeemable. If he could just stop him from going down the same path as last time, Nibelheim would never happen. Meteor would never happen, or the Remnants, or Geostigma. There was a way to salvage this. A way without violence, where no one got hurt.

Cloud put his forehead in his palm.

How the hell was he going to pull memories out of nowhere?

Chapter Text

Cloud was… having a bit of a hard time. 

He was currently lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for sunrise, which was fast approaching. The issue was, he told himself he was going to come to a conclusion before Sephiroth woke and they had to go about their day. He didn’t have said conclusion yet. 

There were multiple factors at play to be deciphered before he planned his next step. The easiest one, and therefore the first, was his memory. 

He didn’t remember fuck-all. It was going to be a problem. He didn’t know missions that came between Wutai and Nibelheim, no major events, no relevant parties. But he needed that information, so he sat down to try and piece it together. 

What he did know was about Zack. Zack, who would become a First Class, but was currently a Second Class and at least fourth in command. But Cloud remembered him as second in command. But that position was clearly in either Angeal or Genesis’s hands—maybe both. 

They were the enigmas. Cloud hadn’t known anything about them, when he first arrived here. It had taken him by surprise that there were more Firsts than Zack and Sephiroth alone.

Angeal, he could gather mentored Zack. Their fighting styles were too similar for anything else, and that similarity was what allowed Cloud such an upper hand in their fights. Not to mention that he wielded the Buster Sword, which was a blade Cloud knew specifically to be Zack’s. It wasn’t particularly hard to put that piece together. 

Something must happen to him. Something that involved passing his sword on to Zack and disappearing, at least. Maybe he died, passed the sword on, and declared Zack his living legacy, much as Zack would do with Cloud later. It made the most sense that he died somehow, either passing on the blade to a nearby Zack, leaving it behind, or it simply being recovered and returned to Zack as the closest to him. 

Except Genesis seemed to be the closest to him, based on their few interactions. Zack might be his mentee, but Genesis was his equal. Did they run off together, then? He couldn’t imagine them getting far—he knew what it was like being hunted by Shinra. There was no way he wouldn’t have heard about them, if they were alive and wanted figures. Perhaps they retired with Shinra’s blessing, but that was a fat chance. SOLDIERs didn’t retire, especially not Firsts. 

So for Genesis not to have inherited the sword, they must have both died. They seemed to have formed some sort of a trio with Sephiroth, which would leave him grieving and alone. Mourning his fallen comrades, just barely willing to take to Zack as the last surviving scrap of them. Zack was hard to turn away, and he wouldn’t just leave Sephiroth mourning alone. He would have tried to befriend him, probably looking for some remnant of Angeal, much as Sephiroth was. 

Which left Sephiroth destabilized, his support system ripped out from beneath him. He had Zack, yes, but that would have been a fledgling relationship at best. Nothing like what he seemed to have with Genesis and Angeal. So he would be stranded, alone and grieving, when a hand was stretched out to him, when a mother called to him. No matter how suspicious she might have been, he had no reason not to listen. There were no strong ties keeping him here, if his link to Zack was not as strong as Cloud had once imagined it might be. 

If he allowed Sephiroth to be isolated in that way, if Jenova called to him, there would be only one way it would go. 

There were a few paths to take. He had to try and find a way to keep Angeal and Genesis alive, for one. But he had no idea what would kill them. He had to assume it would be combat, but who knew how often they took joint missions, or what the hell, short of Sephiroth, would have been enough to kill them both. Unless one died first, and the other chased after them for vengeance, only to meet the same fate? 

He could try and force his way into any joint missions of theirs, but that was an unlikely thing to manage. First, he would have to convince Shinra to let him take missions, then work his way up to having his pick. 

He needed a failsafe, in case that didn’t work, and they died anyway. He needed another strong social bond to keep Sephiroth afloat if he lost them. 

The obvious choice was Zack. They’d be close in the future—it was possible. He could probably manage to get both of them to take him on missions in hopes of forcing them together and strengthening their bond before the commanders perished. 

The other option was … him. He could get close to Sephiroth. Sephiroth was already fascinated with him. He wanted to know him. Maybe Cloud should let him. Maybe if he kept him intrigued, kept him interested and occupied, he could be what he stuck around for, even if the commanders were lost. He once grew so attached to Cloud he followed him back from the dead on repeat. Maybe that bond could be forged without Cloud killing him first. Maybe that was playing with fire, but it seemed like his best bet, if he wasn’t going to kill Sephiroth outright. 

If he failed to save the commanders, if he failed to find replacements for them socially, the only thing left was his original plan. Destroy Jenova, so there would be no alien power for Sephiroth to claim. Kill Hojo, so he couldn’t clone Sephiroth and try again. 

Problem was, he still had no idea where Jenova was. She wasn’t in Nibelheim, he knew that. She might be in the Science Department, but he couldn’t just go down and check. 

What he needed was some freedom. If he could move about Shinra, alone and unguarded, he could sneak into the vents. Maybe he’d be able to figure out how to get into the Science Department that way, with enough time to explore. He could at least find Jenova, if she was here. 

Worst case, once he found her, he could kill Hojo, destroy Jenova, and escape. It might leave Sephiroth alone, if the worst happened to Angeal and Genesis again, but at least there’d be nothing to elevate him to godhood. 

Other worst case, if he couldn’t find Jenova, he’d have to gamble on creating a social safety net for Sephiroth. Then came the dance of trying to save the commanders, trying to make Zack and Sephiroth closer, trying to get closer himself. He just had to pray that would be enough for him to fight Jenova if he was tempted. 

He wasn’t sure which really was worse. 

He tossed an arm over his eyes, blocking out the first rays of light from the window. He would have to get up soon. But first, he had to breathe. 

——————

Cloud was disappointed to find out that Shinra really was dead set on having Sephiroth follow him around like a duckling. 

It made some level of sense. He was the biggest threat, and Sephiroth was the biggest gun they had. It made sense to keep that gun trained at his temple at all hours. Nevermind that both he and Sephiroth found this to be ridiculous—orders were orders. Cloud remembered enough of military life to remember how futile it was to try and go against that tide. Better to keep in line. 

So they did. Sephiroth led him on minor missions, getting him accustomed to the lifestyle of a SOLDIER. Admittedly, Cloud found it a bit disappointing, even given that his situation involved some special circumstances. He saw what Sephiroth’s day was like, and couldn’t help but wonder why the hell he’d daydreamed about this as a child. Missions that weren’t challenging, meetings Sephiroth seemed to hate where Zack stepped in to babysit Cloud, not to mention everything with the Science Department.

 He wondered what his past self had been thinking. He prayed that his current-past-self, his little brother he had left in Nibelheim, wasn’t having the same dreams. If Gaia had any mercy at all, she’d just keep him there, where bullies were his biggest problem. But, now that he knew Gaia a little better, he knew not to depend on her. She didn’t much understand humanity, and what sense of humor she seemed to have was twisted. He just prayed that, back in Nibelheim, there was a version of Cloud Strife with actual good sense. Gods knew it wasn’t him. 

Of course it wasn’t. If he had good sense, he wouldn’t be standing on a tarmac, watching a helicopter bring home his last ditch hopes. 

He watched Sephiroth out of the corner of his eye, as Angeal and Genesis’s chopper touched down. He may not know this fresh-faced SOLDIER, but he knew how to read Sephiroth. He knew his microexpressions and how his mood came out in the angle of his shoulders. Cloud could read the end of the world in the tilt of that man’s pauldrons, but he was terrified to acknowledge what he was seeing. 

Because Sephiroth looked hopeful. Happy. The tiny cues Cloud read were screaming barely-constrained joy and Cloud just didn’t know what to make of it. He’d never really seen Sephiroth look this way before, and almost didn’t believe his eyes. 

It meant his hare-brained scheme might work. That maybe Angeal and Genesis were the key to it all, if he failed to find Jenova in time. If Sephiroth really was watching those two descend from the helicopter with his heart in his eyes, maybe they were all Cloud needed to prevent the apocalypse. 

Now if only he knew how to keep them alive. 

It was a pressing issue. Cloud had no idea when they were going to die. He wanted to say it wouldn’t be for quite a while, that that wound must have been fresh to impact Sephiroth so much, that Zack must not have had enough time to befriend him if he wasn’t enough to fill that void. But he couldn’t be sure, not with Sephiroth. Cloud knew damn well how tenaciously Sephiroth held on to his feelings. He returned from the dead enough times because he refused to let go of his rage—far be it from him to say that he wouldn’t keep his grief as close. 

No, Cloud couldn’t take their presence for granted. They were ticking time bombs, whose explosion would take with them what may be the world’s last chance. 

He followed in Sephiroth’s shadow, approaching the helicopter in his wake. 

“Well, now,” Genesis said. “It’s good to see we’re all in one piece.”

“You were the one in the war zone,” Sephiroth said, the smallest smile on his face. Cloud still couldn’t believe his eyes. 

“Not an active one, and you were the one who brought the enemy’s most dangerous soldier home with you.”

“Let’s have this conversation not on the rooftop, okay?” Angeal said. 

“We do need to debrief,” Sephiroth said, turning and walking towards the elevator. Cloud didn’t know what was more irritating: that he assumed they would follow, or that he was right. 

As they walked to the elevator, Angeal fell in line beside Cloud. 

“You seem to be holding up okay.”

“Things haven’t been too bad.”

“Were you expecting them to be?”

“Weren’t you?”

Angeal chuckled, agreeing by way of his laughter as they stepped into the elevator, Sephiroth pressing the button for their desired floor. 

“Do you know how maddening it has been, being stuck in Wutai while everyone else is home playing with the new toy?” Genesis asked, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the elevator wall. 

Cloud quirked an irritated brow. 

“I’m not a toy.”

“Perhaps not, but you are a puzzle, and I have been aching to solve you.”

Cloud blinked. 

“Are you flirting with me?”

Genesis grinned broadly and said, “What would you say if I was?”

“It wouldn’t matter, because I am standing right here, and last I checked, we agreed to remain monogamous,” Angeal said, his tone more amused than offended. 

When Cloud’s head whipped around, Angeal just gave him a small wink as Genesis groaned. 

“Is it a crime to want to know that I’m wanted by other men?”

“‘Course not. Just a reminder.”

“Well your reminder will not stop me from getting my answer. Well, Cloud?”

Cloud blinked. He turned faintly pink. Genesis had historically been furious with him for a number of slights. He wasn’t expecting this . 

“You two are a couple,” Cloud said. 

“And if we weren’t?”

“I’d still be—“

“Taken?”

“ Not interested .”

Genesis narrowed his eyes and said, “Not interested in what? Me? Men? Dating?”

“Any of it. All of it. I have bigger things to worry about.”

“Such as?”

“Such as trying to keep—“ Cloud’s mouth shut with a clack. He glared at Genesis, who grinned back at him hungrily. 

“Oh no, please, do continue.”

“Fuck off. I’m not a puzzle for you to solve.”

“Oh, but you are, and I will solve you. I’ll have you know I’m taking notes. Flustering you seems to work.”

“I’m not flustered .”

“The tips of your ears are not normally pink,” Sephiroth helpfully informed. 

Cloud scowled, flushing darker. 

“I’m not flustered!”

Angeal chuckled quietly as Genesis grinned. 

“It is comforting to see you have flaws. For all your many talents in the battlefield, it seems your wordplay is not to the level your swordplay is.”

Cloud, in a moment of helpless desperation, turned to Sephiroth to say, “Please tell me he’s not always like this.”

Sephiroth hummed, amusement dancing in his eyes, and said, “He wasn’t when you put him up a tree.”

“Whose side are you on!” Genesis huffed. 

Angeal at least tried to hide his laugh in a cough this time, but the look on Genesis’s face when he glared at him said that he fooled no one. 

“Good Gaia, you lot will give me a headache,” Cloud said, rubbing at his temple. 

“You’ve been a headache since you appeared out of thin air,” Genesis countered. “We still know nothing about you. I don’t suppose you’ve pried anything out of him?” Genesis stared Sephiroth down. 

Sephiroth blinked evenly at him and said, “Nothing of import.”

Cloud stared at Sephiroth. He didn’t know what it meant, that Sephiroth was keeping the secret of his mako level from these two. He wondered if it was solidarity between two people who had clearly been experiments. He wondered if maybe the three were not as close as he thought. He wondered if he was just waiting until Cloud was out of earshot to spill the beans. Either way, Cloud was left on unsteady footing. He didn’t like not knowing what Sephiroth was playing at. 

The elevator dinged then, announcing that they were at the desired floor, which was apparently the floor where Sephiroth lived. He took them, not to his office, but to his home—and the other two seemed to think nothing of it. Angeal went to sit on the loveseat and Genesis took off his signature red jacket, hanging it over the back of the sofa before joining Angeal. Sephiroth went to sit on the three-seater couch, and Cloud was left with a choice. Distance himself from Sephiroth, or sit with him. 

He remembered what he had been musing on. Sephiroth’s social safety net, and the very few people it could be composed of. 

He sat next to the General. 

Genesis arched an eyebrow at him, but launched into his report regardless. 

“There was no further conflict with Wutai. There were peace talks, and more talking in circles, after you left, but there really was nothing of note to report. Except…”

Genesis looked to Cloud, who arched an eyebrow in return. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. 

“Except Lord Godo said you aren’t one of his. That he has no idea where you came from.”

“So? I already admitted to Sephiroth that I’m not from Wutai. I told him I was fighting for the Planet.”

“Right, one of those ‘ecological fanatics,’ as he put it. But it is news to us that you had no ties at all to Wutai. That you appeared out of thin air, won your place, and proceeded to win the war for them. The Demon of Wutai.”

Cloud bristled at the title, folding his arms. 

“It’s not my fault you didn’t put that together from what I said.”

“So Wutai truly didn’t enhance you.”

“When did I ever say they did?”

“You did dance around that question,” Sephiroth mused. 

“So then you are one of Shinra’s,” Genesis decided. “Their attempt at another Sephiroth?”

Cloud knew that Genesis couldn’t know what he was saying, how close he was to sensitive truths, but that still stung. 

“I never said that either.”

“Shinra seems too confused by him for him to be one of ours,” Angeal said. 

“Unless they’re faking the surprise,” Genesis countered. “Trying to keep their cover and bring their lost project back into the fold.”

“I won’t tell you anything. I don’t know why you’re bothering.”

“Because, by your tension, I am close to some truth. I only wonder what it might be.”

“He can’t be Shinra’s,” Sephiroth said. 

Genesis deflated, leaning back. His mouth pursed. 

“And why not?”

“Because he’s more enhanced than I am. If they had a greater weapon in storage, they would have brought him out for the war.”

“Perhaps they lost him long ago.”

“I would have been brought in to hunt him, if that’s the case.”

“Investigation is the Turks’ jurisdiction. If they had no leads, you wouldn’t have been brought in.”

“If they had successfully created someone stronger than me before I was complete, why would they not use the same process for me? They would not tout an inferior model as their great success.”

Genesis clicked his tongue and said, “I hate when you talk about yourself that way. You are not a machine, or a weapon, but a person. And perhaps they did not know the full scale of his talents until Wutai.”

Sephiroth paused. He looked at Cloud curiously, his gaze measuring. 

And Cloud felt an inexplicable urge to just tell him . That maybe it would be better to just have the truth in the open. Bring them all into the fold. Have the lot of them work together to prevent the future—no one had a greater stake in preventing it than Sephiroth, whose own tragedy was ensured. 

Cloud looked away instead. 

He couldn’t risk it. Not yet. Not until he knew them better. 

Genesis sighed impatiently and said, waspishly, “The days of your secrets are numbered, Cloud. I’ll have the truth from you yet.”

Cloud swallowed and refused to look at him, saying nothing. 

Because he had the dangerous, dangerous feeling that Genesis might be right. 

Chapter Text

Cloud was sleeping as soundly as he did in this place, which was not very. The second his PHS started to buzz, he shot awake like a bolt. He looked around, quickly gauging possible threats. When he found none, he realized where the familiar buzzing was coming from. 

It was strange. Who the hell had his number?

He picked it up, only pausing to glance at the unfamiliar number before answering. 

“Hello?” he said, voice clear despite how he rubbed his eyes. 

“Cloud.”

Cloud smiled, the soft, gentle smile that he had hidden since he arrived here. 

“Vincent.”

He knew it still wasn’t his Vincent, that they were nowhere near as close, but it was a bit of home to him. Just the sound of a familiar voice he was fond of, that didn’t give him nightmares, did wonders for him. 

“Are you alone?”

“I’m alone in a room, but not in the apartment,” Cloud said. 

“Then I will be brief. This is the number I will be using. I have secured our lines so that they will be neither tapped nor traced. Any text messages sent between us will be private. I trust I do not need to tell you to erase them as the conversation happens?”

“Of course I’ll delete them—not that I let anyone near my PHS.”

“Good.”

Vincent hung up without another word. 

Within a few seconds, his phone gave a curt buzz again. 

Vincent: Hello. 

Cloud: hey. how’d you get the lines secured?

Vincent: I spoke to Reeve. It seems he knows you. When it was explained to him that there was an imminent crisis, he was willing to secure the lines. 

Cloud: isn’t that turk jurisdiction?

Vincent: Urban Development is responsible for the PHS towers and network. He went through that way. 

Cloud: he did this for a stranger with almost no information?

Vincent: He seemed to remember your name. He said you called regarding readings in the Northern Crater, and that you seemed to think it was winter in July. 

Cloud: so he put some things together

Vincent: Likely so. He seemed to have already put together most of it on his own, from that call and your part in the war. 

Cloud: shit. well, good thing he’s on our side

Vincent: For now, yes. What have you decided about the target?

Cloud: he’s not who I knew, at all. I think we can get through this without bloodshed, it’s just a matter of how

Vincent: If you can alarm Hojo enough that he moves Jenova, I can eliminate both targets en route. 

Cloud: that would solve a lot of problems

Vincent: Then I can leave the primary target to you?

Cloud: I’m honestly thinking about just telling him the truth. if I explain the stakes, and what will happen if he goes down that route, he might be willing to help

Vincent: I believe Lucrecia’s son to be trustworthy. From all reports, he is highly logical. He should see what’s in his best interest. 

Cloud: are you just saying that because of how much you love Lucrecia?

Vincent: I am capable of making unbiased decisions. Do you not know this?

Cloud: I know you can get a bit screwy when it comes to her

Vincent: I object to your terminology. 

Cloud: just say I’m right here

Vincent: This is an analysis of the situation, purely based on the facts at hand. 

Cloud: ok, but you can agree you get screwy about her sometimes

A few minutes passed. Vincent left him on read, refusing to acknowledge that truth. Cloud chuckled and deleted the messages. 

That solved part of it. 

Cloud took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. He scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned. 

How do you explain to someone that they may go off the deep end and bring the whole planet down with them?

Cloud leaned back against the headboard and thought of the gentlest way to phrase this, and tact wasn’t necessarily his strong suit. He had a terrible tendency to be blunt, but he had learned how to temper that, particularly for Denzel’s sake. The amount he was pulling on tricks he learned from raising Denzel to know how to handle Sephiroth was deeply unnerving. Denzel was a soft, kind soul, despite the stubbornness Tifa said he had learned from Cloud. He couldn’t help but wonder if the same was true about Sephiroth—and that was such a bizarre concept that he had to put it aside immediately. 

He didn’t get a chance to decide what to say. There was a knock on the door. 

Sephiroth opened it and stood in the doorway. 

Before he could get a word out, Cloud whispered, “Hoo boy,” and ruffled his hair nervously. 

“Am I meant to know what that means?” Sephiroth asked, his brow faintly pinched. 

“Not even a little. Come sit down.”

Cloud tugged the blankets in some semblance of order so Sephiroth wasn’t sitting directly where Cloud had just been asleep. It was probably too soon for this talk, but if he stalled much longer, he was going to stall indefinitely. Vincent was confident this would work. Cloud… was not, but this was what his gut had been pulling him to do, while his mind was what fought it. His gut never led him wrong—his brain, sometimes shredded by anxiety and overthinking, was what occasionally led him astray. Vincent was the logical one, and he had faith in this. His judgement may be a little off, but then, Vincent had originally left his coffin to put Sephiroth down. He could face this threat when it was necessary. He had just assessed it and found it currently unnecessary. 

“Cloud, are you alright?”

Shit. He was stalling. 

“No,” Cloud admitted, giving a small wry smile at Sephiroth’s immediate concern. “I’m about to tell you something I’m not sure I can trust you with.”

Sephiroth blinked. He sat up straighter, eager. It was almost concerning how obvious this Sephiroth was—to those who knew where to look. After his Sephiroth, it was almost like flashing neon signs. 

“My earlier promise stands. Your words will be kept between us.”

“And if it has to do with the company?”

“I…” Sephiroth frowned slightly. 

“Sephiroth, I’ll be clear. Most of this has to do with you. But part of it has to do with Shinra, and I need to know that you’re not going to run off and tattle as soon as I tell you.”

Sephiroth took a moment to consider, and Cloud was glad for it. He didn’t want Sephiroth to rush this decision and then change his mind. Cloud sat, watching him evenly as he thought. 

“If it is primarily my business, it will remain my own.”

Cloud sighed in relief and smiled. He scooted to sit next to Sephiroth on the edge of the bed. 

“Thank you,” he started. “But I have to warn you—this won’t be easy to hear. It’s going to upset you, for a lot of reasons. I want you to remember a few things. That you have friends here who support you, and you can turn to them for help—if you feel the need to tell Genesis and Angeal, that’s fine, just maybe make sure that’s as far as it goes. A lot of people could get very hurt and very dead if it goes further.”

“I understand,” Sephiroth said softly. 

“Remember that I have done a whole lot for the goal I’m working toward. I threatened to tear this building down on my way out, and I meant it. It would be an acceptable sacrifice to prevent what I’m trying to stop, if it comes to it. But I agreed to come here. I agreed to be followed, and have been compliant, because that is not what I want to do. It’s a last resort. Okay?”

Sephiroth nodded, a furrow between his brows. 

“Lastly, remember that I’m trusting you with this. If I didn’t think it’d work out in the end, I wouldn’t be saying any of this. I am fully capable of withstanding all your picking and wheedling. But I’m choosing to tell you, because I have faith that, when you know everything, you’ll make the right call. Alright?”

Sephiroth looked more perturbed for that trust than anything. 

“We barely know one another.”

“Yeah. But I think I’ve seen what I need to see. Enough to think that this won’t go so far sideways that it can’t be salvaged. Maybe a little sideways, but I’m kind of expecting that. Just, please, do me a favor? If this is a lot to bear, and it will be, don’t be alone. You don’t have to stay with me. You don’t have to repeat what I tell you to anyone else. If you want to think about it, at least do that with Angeal and Genesis. You don’t have to say a word to them, I can explain if you want. But don’t be alone.”

Sephiroth frowned, saying, “Are you saying this because you don’t truly trust I’ll handle it?”

Maybe , Cloud thought privately, but even he didn’t think that was the whole truth. 

“Listen, Sephiroth. I’ve spent a lot of time brooding alone over things that deeply, deeply upset me. I know the way the silence eats at you. I know how your thoughts start to twist. When you’re sitting there thinking alone, you convince yourself of all sorts of bullshit that, if it was presented to you at any other time, you’d know it doesn’t make sense. Just… whatever conclusions you come to, run them by someone, okay? Get a second opinion before you do anything.”

Sephiroth looked at him in consideration. That was, probably, more truth about himself than Cloud had ever given him. The display of trust, however minor, seemed to help. Sephiroth nodded. 

Cloud looked down at his hands. He took a long breath to steel himself. 

“I’m from the future.”

Cloud glanced up at Sephiroth to see the man blink in surprise. The moment he was waiting for, where Sephiroth called bullshit, didn’t come. He was waiting and waiting and waiting for it, but Sephiroth just seemed thoughtful. 

“So Shinra did enhance you.”

“Yes.”

“It just hasn’t happened yet, in this timeline.”

“Right.”

Gaia willing, it never would, but he was not about to point out the existence of his younger self to Sephiroth, not even in this display of trust. 

“I did something,” Sephiroth said, staring evenly back at Cloud. “Something worth traveling through time to prevent.”

“Yes,” Cloud said softly. “But, remember, we’re having this conversation. I didn’t kill you in Wutai, and I’m not going to now.”

“Because… what, I can be ‘saved’?”

The sarcasm dripped off the word. 

“Sephiroth,” Cloud said, gentle as possible, reaching for tact as best he could. “I’ll be blunt.” Okay, maybe not tact. “ I wasn’t sent here to save you. I was sent here to stop something terrible. This is not about redemption, because you’ve done nothing wrong. This is about giving you the keys to save yourself. Do you know why we’re having this conversation at all?”

Sephiroth’s hard gaze softened as he spoke, into something almost delicate. It let him see how wounded he already was. Not a good start. 

“Why is that?”

“Because you are my greatest chance at saving the world. Because no one can save you but yourself, and gods, I want to see you beat this thing. You’re not who I knew in my time—if you were, this talk wouldn’t be happening. I don’t believe you have ill intent toward the world. I think you’ve followed orders because you were raised to. I think you thrive off violence because you were taught to, and it’s how you feel successful. I’ve followed orders blindly, too. I don’t do so good with peace, myself. You’ve always been destined to do big things, and I can think of nothing bigger than saving the Planet.”

Sephiroth’s face slowly morphed as Cloud spoke. From wary, to begrudgingly trusting, to quiet awe. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing—and frankly, neither could Cloud. If anyone had told him in his own time that he would say these things to Sephiroth, he would have laughed. He was in no mood to laugh right now. 

“What do I need to do?” Sephiroth whispered, and Cloud smiled softly. That was good. That was great. 

“Listen, first. Then take your time processing, with your friends surrounding you. Then come back to me, and we’ll make a game plan.”

Sephiroth nodded. 

And Cloud began to speak. 

He told Sephiroth the truth of his origins, about Lucrecia, and the father figure waiting for him if he would have him. He told him the truth of Jenova, of what had been done to him. He explained the truth of what every SOLDIER was, and that Genesis and Angeal were likely not far off. This was the first sticking point. 

“I can’t say for sure,” Cloud said. “My memory of this time period is, well, shit, to be honest. But the level of enhancement they have doesn’t seem like the standard SOLDIER process, not even for Firsts.”

“Is that bad?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what it means. I know people enhanced with other processes tend to have problems. We need to keep an eye on them.” Cloud did not mention any potentially deadly impending missions. “I’ll need your help with that. You know them better than I do.”

“Of course. Whatever it takes.”

Cloud took a deep breath before continuing. 

“This is where things start to get sticky.”

He explained that there was an impending mission to the town Nibelheim, though it was years off at this point. He explained that Jenova would be in the town, though she was not yet. He told him about the specific problems overly enhanced people, Sephiroth chief among them, faced in her presence. He told him that he did not know where Genesis and Angeal had been, only that they’d been absent. 

He explained that there was a library full of documents that Cloud had confirmed from multiple sources were lies, and that Sephiroth had read them, believing them to be the truth. He was gentle as he could be while he explained the razing of Nibelheim, carefully not mentioning that it was his hometown. He tried to be tactful as he explained that a young Cloud and Zack had followed him to the reactor.

“You weren't yourself,” Cloud muttered. “I didn’t know you well, but Zack did, and he knew immediately something was wrong. You had heard Jenova, like any overly enhanced SOLDIER, and because of what that library put in your head, you welcomed her. I don’t know if everything that came after was her or if it was you, using her as a means to an end.

“What I do know is that, the man in the reactor that day? He wasn’t the person sitting in front of me now. You had changed. It might have been the library and the solid week without sleep or food. It might have been Jenova. It might have been both. All I know is that, everything from the moment you went to the library was not who I’ve come to know. Do not take his sins as your burden.”

Cloud looked at him sternly until he nodded, mute. 

Cloud continued, outlining the brief skirmish in the reactor, how Zack had fallen and how tiny, unenhanced Cloud had somehow killed the greatest SOLDIER in the world. 

“Honestly? That was a huge tip-off that you weren’t yourself. On any normal day you would have swatted me like a fly. There’s no reason I should have won. But you weren’t who you are now .”

“You don’t need to keep repeating that, Cloud, I understand.”

“Do you? Because it gets worse from here. Do you want to take a break?”

“No. I need to hear this.”

Cloud sighed, but continued. 

He skimmed over his time with Hojo, only saying that he was enhanced, and that Hojo had been trying to clone Sephiroth using Cloud as his base. He glossed over the year he and Zack had spent on the run. He didn’t do Zack’s death justice, but that hurt was too close to get into detail with. Sephiroth seemed to understand that, and let it be. 

He went quickly over the events of Midgar and after, focusing only on the parts relevant to Sephiroth. He did not need to know about his friends and the things they shared. It wasn’t relevant, and Cloud frankly wasn’t comfortable sharing those things. Sephiroth seemed disturbed that he came back from the dead, in disbelief that he had hatched a scheme to use a meteor to become a god. He honestly seemed relieved when Cloud went over that final fight in the Crater. 

When Cloud asked why, Sephiroth said, “No one has the right to godhood.” And, sweet Gaia, that was a relief to hear Sephiroth say voluntarily. 

He ran through Geostigma, and the Remnants, and Advent Day. He explained what Gaia had told him, that Sephiroth was going to keep following his tether to Cloud back from the grave, and that the world couldn’t take it anymore. So he had been removed from the picture and sent here to stop it from happening. 

“And the first thing you did was… go to Wutai?”

“Not the first,” Cloud admitted. “I tried to find Jenova, but she isn’t in Nibelheim yet. Then I went to Wutai.”

“Why Wutai? Why not kill Hojo immediately?”

“Because the reactors are a plague on the planet, firstly, and it will save a lot of problems in the long run if there are less of them. Partially, it was to secure an extra ally in Wutai if it came down to it. To keep an eye on you, and figure you out. To try and change history enough that the circumstances leading up to the whole mess never happened. If the metaphorical stars can’t align, then no Nibelheim disaster, no rest of it.”

“Wouldn't it have helped more to keep things the same, and use your knowledge that way?”

“I don’t think so. I think some events are probably written in stone. I’m almost certain the Nibelheim mission is unavoidable, and I honestly don’t remember much that comes before that. Best I can do is change things during this time.”

Sephiroth stood to pace. 

“What is the plan then?”

“There’s some semblance of a plan, which I’m happy to talk about, once you’ve processed .”

Sephiroth paused mid step to look at him. 

“I’m fine. Contrary to how the war went, I am a skilled strategist. I can help.”

“You already are. You know about Jenova, and if you hear her, you’ll know what’s happening. You can fight her off, and I’ll be here to help you. You, cognizant and ready to fight her, is already a huge help I wasn’t expecting.”

“But—“

“Sephiroth. Last time you got news this big, you holed up in a library for a week and then went to destroy a village. I’m sorry, but I’m not letting you throw yourself into problem solving mode until you’ve had time to come to grips with what you just heard.”

“I’m not so emotional.”

“ Everyone’s that emotional.”

“Not you.”

“Not m— ha! Oh man, I would pay you to tell that to my friends back home. They’d get a good laugh outta that.”

Sephiroth’s brow furrowed as Cloud grinned at him, leaning back on his hands. 

“But you’re always so—“

“I’m always acting, because I’m essentially infiltrating enemy territory, and trying not to fuck it up. I’m doing a poor job of it, really, considering what I just told you.”

“You’d make a good Turk.”

Cloud groaned, his bubble of amusement thoroughly popped. 

“I wish people would stop saying that to me. It’s really not a compliment.”

Sephiroth smiled faintly. It was incredibly small and shook a little. He was tight around the eyes. His shoulders were too high, too tense. Cloud sighed and got to his feet. Moving slowly, so as to not alarm him, Cloud set about steering Sephiroth to the door. 

“What’s gonna happen next is this: you’re going to go to Genesis and Angeal, and talk through what you’re feeling, because you have to be feeling something . I will stay here and behave myself. I’ll even call Zack to come babysit, so Shinra won’t complain. I will stay right here, as an act of good faith, because I’m trusting you, and I need you to see that you can trust me too. My PHS will be right by me if you need me for any reason. Get going.”

By the time he finished speaking, they were at the front door. Cloud opened it and gently pushed Sephiroth outside. When he turned to give him a bewildered stare, Cloud smiled softly. He waved, and then shut the door behind him. There was a pause, as he listened for Sephiroth’s footsteps and couldn’t hear any. Then he heard him walking away from the door. 

Cloud leaned his back against the door and blew out a huge breath. He covered his face with his hands and slid down to a crouch, where he curled into a ball over his toes. He grasped at his hair and listened to his thundering pulse in his ears.

Gods, he hoped he didn’t just damn them all. 

—————

“What are you doing here so early?”

“I… don’t know.”

“Why do you look like that? Is something wrong?”

“Can I come in?”

Genesis stepped aside, a furrow in his brow, as Sephiroth meandered into his apartment. From the sound of it, Angeal was in the kitchen making coffee. 

“What happened?” Genesis asked. 

“I… I need to think. Apparently I shouldn’t do it alone. Can I use your couch?”

Genesis nodded, still looking worried. He grabbed Sephiroth by the arm and led him to the couch before gently pushing him to sitting. Sephiroth didn’t know what to make of so many people leading him around. He wasn’t sure what to make of all of it. Maybe he was in shock. Maybe that was why Cloud made him come here. 

Because, really, he had been ready to do what he always did. Step on his emotions until they withered away, and focus on the problem at hand. 

(Genesis squeezed his shoulder before wandering off. He faintly heard him talking to Angeal in the kitchen.)

The problem at hand that was, for once, him. Or maybe not him. Maybe it was him being led by the nose by Jenova, the way he had been by Shinra, the way he had been by Hojo, the way he had been his whole life. 

He had been told, for that whole life, that he was destined for greatness. That he was designed to do big things. And this is what he had chosen to do. This was the big thing he had opted for. To destroy the world and become a god. 

And… he’d be lying, if he claimed to not see the appeal. To be completely free, unfettered from Shinra. He knew it wasn’t going to happen otherwise. Shinra controlled the world. There was nowhere for him to hide, if he chose to leave. It was why he hadn’t chosen to leave the second he was allowed out of the labs. 

But, Cloud had made a very strong point. That, while he couldn’t be sure, it was very likely that he still wouldn’t be free, anyway. Jenova seemed to be no kinder master than Shinra—worse, all things considered, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. 

Power for power’s sake had never appealed to him. Freedom , yes, absolutely, but he wouldn’t be free at all under Jenova’s thumb. 

Which left the other point, the first point Jenova had apparently made. Family . That, too, was compelling, but. There were parents out there for him, parents with names. Lucrecia Crescent, who had carried him. Vincent Valentine, not related by blood, but a father figure, should he want one. 

Which left… what, exactly? Not freedom, not family. He certainly didn’t want the complete alienation that would come with it. He had always struggled to accept as inhuman as he was now. Why would he actively try to drive himself further afield? Why would he end the whole planet? Genesis and Angeal were here, Zack was here for as far as their friendship stretched, Cloud was here. 

Cloud, who had come so far to rein him in. He accepted his story as true—there were too many fine details for it to all be a lie. Cloud had always been careful to give as few details as possible, knowing that keeping track of so many falsehoods was impossible. Besides, Cloud had been distraught during his tale. He might be a fine actor, but that kind of raw hurt he’d had in his eye while talking about Nibelheim, about Zack—that could not be faked. 

No, impossible as it seemed, he trusted the veracity of the story. And if he did accept that, then he had to accept what Cloud had chosen to do. 

He knew he would not make the same decisions. In Cloud’s shoes, he would have eliminated the threat as soon as possible. He should have killed Sephiroth on sight. He should have stormed Shinra and killed Hojo and Jenova. He did not do these things. He was being careful, and cautious, and trying not to disturb what he didn’t have to. 

Or Cloud didn’t have the heart for bloodshed, which seemed wrong. He was a more skilled fighter than all the Firsts combined—he couldn’t be afraid of killing. 

But he had chosen to try and save Sephiroth, no matter what he said about redemption. He certainly didn’t have to tell Sephiroth about all of this. If his judgement had been wrong, he could have just handed the keys to the apocalypse directly to the one person he knew might attempt it. Strategically, it was beyond foolish. It was the last thing he should have done. It just wasn’t wise to hand a roadmap to the end of the world to anyone who might follow it. 

Sephiroth decided, then and there, that he would be worth Cloud’s trust. 

No Jenova. No meteors, no Geostigma, no apocalypse at all. 

He blinked his eyes open and lifted his head from where it was ducked. He saw a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. Genesis and Angeal were sitting nearby, one on the loveseat and one in the armchair, just watching Sephiroth. Genesis took a long sip of his coffee. 

“Welcome back,” Genesis said, smiling faintly as Sephiroth hid behind his bangs. “So. What’s happened?”

“Cloud told me.”

“Told you what?” Angeal prompted gently. 

“Everything. Why he was in Wutai, where he came from, why he’s working with us. He just… said it.”

Genesis blinked in surprise. Angeal sat upright in his own shock. 

“He just told you?” Angeal asked, even as Genesis put his coffee on the end table and slouched against the couch, clearly disappointed. 

“Some puzzle . He didn’t hold out very long.”

“I… don’t think he wanted to,” Sephiroth said, leaning forward to grab his own mug. He held it between his palms for the warmth. “I think he’s been itching to be out with it. He just wanted to make sure it was safe first.”

“Safe from what?” Angeal asked. 

“From me.”

“... Well, you can’t say something so ominous and not explain yourself,” Genesis huffed. “What did he say?”

And, strangely, Sephiroth told them all of it. It had taken such a long time for him to be willing to share the truth of his childhood, but somehow, it was easy to share this. Because he wanted them to know. He needed them to know. He needed more eyes on him, to make sure that future never came to pass. He needed people who knew him well to watch all his little tells, and be sure that they would stop him if it came to it. 

For the first time in his life, Sephiroth acknowledged that he needed help. And he reached out for it, just to find that their hands had been outstretched the whole time. 

By the time he finished explaining, Genesis and Angeal were at his side. Genesis held one of his hands in his own, and Angeal had one arm around his shoulders. Sephiroth stared into his coffee as he spoke. 

As he finished, he said, “He insisted that I come here, after he told me. He said that I needed to process, and that I shouldn’t be alone for it.”

“He was right about that,” Angeal said gently. “No one should be alone after that. I’m so sorry, Sephiroth.”

Genesis squeezed his hands, saying, “We’ll be with you. We will make sure none of this comes to pass. If you ever need help getting your head out of your ass, well, you know I’d love to volunteer.”

Sephiroth huffed a small laugh, and when he glanced up, Genesis had a soft smile on his face. Then Sephiroth sobered quickly. 

“You weren’t there, before,” he reminded. “You might not be this time.”

“Nonsense,” Genesis said, immediately and with absolute confidence. “Whatever happened won’t happen twice. We have warning that something dire is coming. We have a strange magic man from the future. We have each other. I don’t think there’s anything we couldn’t face like this.”

“But—“

“Even you, dearest,” Genesis said, his bravado gentling. “Cloud told you because he doesn’t want to kill you—but he can. That tiny little terror of a man could end the world himself, if he so chose. You aren’t panicking about that .”

“Because he isn’t inclined to.”

“Are you inclined to?” Angeal asked. 

Sephiroth pursed his lips as an answer—they all knew he wasn’t inclined, or they wouldn’t be having this conversation. 

“Exactly,” Genesis said. “Now. Drink your coffee. We’ll put on one of those terrible quiz shows that you love so much but deny enjoying, and we won’t even tease you for saying the answers before the contestants can.”

Sephiroth ducked his head, feeling his ears grow faintly hot. Angeal chuckled and held him tighter, as Genesis stood to find the remote. 

And—alright, yes. Maybe he did need this. Maybe it didn’t feel so huge, not when he got swept up in correcting television contestants that couldn’t hear him. It was fun, seeing that all the knowledge he had gotten for all the wrong reasons—reasons that could lead down a very dark path—could be put to harmless use. It helped, too, that Angeal and Genesis never strayed far from his side. 

Chapter Text

‘Proud’ was not a word Sephiroth would use to describe his behavior. 

He had been called proud many times, and he still wasn’t sure that was an accurate assessment; he simply was aware of his skills. It wasn’t pride if it was the truth. He never strove to be proud, but, in the very back of his head where no one could see the urge, he wanted very much for someone to be proud of him. Angeal was, at times. Genesis, in his offhand way. But since that conversation with Cloud, that had been the man he was trying to make proud. 

Cloud had seen the worst Sephiroth could potentially become, and decided to stretch out his hand instead of wrapping it around his hilt. He wanted to do justice to that decision. He wanted to prove that what seemed to be a complete strategic misstep wasn't one at all. He wanted to show Cloud that his trust wasn’t misplaced. 

He wanted it terribly. This was the only man in the world who was not only his equal, but his better. As someone who had spent his life taking orders from people he did not respect, the chance to prove himself to someone he did meant the world. 

And he was worried he was failing. 

He was hiding from Cloud. He knew that. Genesis and Angeal knew that—they’d been letting him hide here all day. No one called him a coward, but they did check on him and offer him distractions. They never seemed impatient—in fact, they seemed rather understanding, though of what, Sephiroth wasn’t sure. 

He ended up passing on all their offers, instead choosing to continue watching the quiz show. He kept drumming his nails on his knee, though. He knew he had many, many things he should be doing. Mountains of paperwork and mission reports, probably a meeting of some sort his secretary was trying to call him about before he muted his PHS, training if nothing else. Certainly strategizing with Cloud, as that had been his immediate plan upon learning the possible future. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to. And that was incredibly strange, because normally he refused to take any breaks whatsoever. Angeal often brought him food in his office because he was known to skip meals in favor of working. But right now, it was like his muscles were made of lead. No matter how much he willed it, he couldn’t make himself get up. 

He wondered faintly if he was in shock. If the emotional weight of what he was told had finally hit him. It made sense, in a way; he had apparently taken even the false news of his origins hard the first time. But then he had evidently locked himself away doing research for a week. That sounded like him. Not this… maddening inability to make himself do more than stare at a screen and mumble a few words when prompted. 

Frankly, it was a little concerning. He’d been able to rely on previous few things in his life, but his body was one of them. If it was failing him now, what would happen in a moment of true need? Would he freeze like this? 

The couch cushion next to him dipped. He hadn’t even realized that someone was there. Turning his head to look was like opening a door with rusted hinges. 

Angeal looked back at him, concerned. 

“Sephiroth, you can spend all the time here you’d like,” Angeal started, “but I think maybe a spar might help. You’ve had your foundations rocked today. Something familiar, that you’re good at, might help some. What do you say?”

He wasn’t particularly inclined to pick up a sword right now—he feared what his hand might do with it. But he couldn’t allow himself to be fearful of distant ghosts from possible futures. Cloud would need his help, at some point, and that meant being steady on his feet and able to wield his sword. It was more important to him that he was able to help, than that he might harm. Harm had always been a fact of his life. If he could just channel that in helpful ways, like Cloud did, then maybe the harm would be worth it. 

Besides, if he took a wrong turn, if he started to harm more than help, Cloud was there. He was watching, and waiting, and more than capable of stopping Sephiroth if it came to it. Genesis and Angeal were watching him too. He might be able to handle them on their own, but with Cloud? That was a battle impossible to win. 

His muscles finally unlocked as the dread that had welded them in place finally dissipated. 

“Alright,” Sephiroth said, climbing to his feet. He wasn’t expecting Angeal’s smile to be quite as broad as it was. 

“Gen went to get Masamune, he’ll meet us at the usual VR Room. Come on.”

Sephiroth let himself be led to their usual sparring location, stretching lightly as Angeal warmed up properly while they waited. Before long, Genesis was waltzing into the room, but he didn’t carry Masamune. 

Cloud did. 

And that made Sephiroth feel strangely… safer? As if anything that could go wrong would be handled if Cloud was present. 

He thought he should feel alarmed that somewhere along the line he began to trust Cloud more than he did himself. Instead of alarmed, he found himself simply comfortable. 

Sephiroth went to take his blade as Angeal and Genesis fussed with the location settings for the VR Room, arguing about what location was least likely to result in them breaking the room again. 

When Sephiroth took a hold of Masamune, he found that Cloud did not let it go. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice carefully kept low. 

“I’m fine,” Sephiroth said, and was surprised to find that he meant it. 

Sephiroth watched as Cloud narrowed his eyes, his gaze flicking over Sephiroth’s body, looking for what, he wasn’t sure. He was widely known for his stoicism, so he wasn’t sure what Cloud could be reading, but he seemed content with what he found. He nodded and released Masamune, taking a step back. 

Sephiroth gathered his VR headset and hesitated, wondering if he should pick up a second for Cloud. Maybe he had been intending to watch the streaming footage on the viewing screens. He was standing on the combat side of the partition, though, so Sephiroth thought he might be intending to be present in the simulation. He got a headset and crossed the room to hand it to Cloud, who took it with mild confusion. 

“Have you used the VR Room before?” Sephiroth asked, only made unsure by Cloud’s own bafflement. 

“No. How’s this work?” He was turning the headset over in his hands, as if trying to understand the mechanics with only a view of the casing. 

Sephiroth had to remind himself that Cloud had only been a trooper in his own time, and would have had no access to things like this. It was still hard to believe, when Sephiroth had always known him to be a paragon of combat prowess. It was hard to imagine Cloud in infantry blues. 

Sephiroth went about showing Cloud how to activate the headset and pair it with the VR system. He found he had to fight the urge to take the headset and put it on for Cloud. But that was strange, and overly intimate. Sephiroth was not a person who touched casually. It made him wonder if he wanted that touch to be more than casual. 

It wasn’t possible. Sephiroth had clearly taken to Cloud early, likely from the first time they crossed blades. His sense of humor, his calm surety, his conviction had drawn Sephiroth in deep after his interest was piqued with combat. He was interested in him as a person, yes, the same way he was interested in Genesis and Angeal, surely. Surely it couldn’t be anything else. 

Sephiroth turned his back after acknowledging Cloud’s thanks, putting on his own headset. He resolved to consider the matter later. He had quite enough on his plate at the moment. 

“Ready?” Angeal called, tapping a few last keystrokes as Genesis rounded the partition, putting on his own headset. 

Sephiroth nodded, and a few moments later, they were perched atop the Sister Ray. Cloud went to go rest against where the cannon barrel attached to its base, his arms folded over his chest. Sephiroth looked to Genesis and Angeal who stood between him and Cloud now, as they both unsheathed their blades. Genesis winked at him before breaking into a dash. 

Sephiroth felt the false wind pull his hair out behind him, rippling like a banner. He heard their footsteps rushing toward him. He had to fight the urge to smile. 

Angeal had been right. This was surely what he needed. Familiarity. Comfort. ‘Fun,’ as Genesis would call it. 

And nothing was quite so fun to Sephiroth as causing Shinra property damage, virtual or otherwise. He never gave a damn whether or not the VR Room was destroyed in their fights. Shinra would foot the bill with only mild complaint if Sephiroth was involved. And, while he’d never given much serious thought to fleeing the company (as that was doomed to fail), he did so love his petty acts of rebellion. 

Sephiroth cast a Barrier to absorb Genesis’s first Fire spell and rolled his shoulders. 

Letting loose a bit may or may not help him get his head back on his shoulders, but it was certain to improve his mood. 

————

Cloud watched the fight anxiously. 

He knew Sephiroth wasn’t feeling like himself—of course he wasn’t. Who would be after what he was told? But Cloud’s experience told him that any time Sephiroth wasn’t in complete control of himself, disaster followed. 

He did, however, understand that this was another instance where he was putting expectations set by other-Sephiroth onto this Sephiroth. This version of him was infinitely more stable—Cloud wouldn’t have told him shit if he wasn’t. He was just shaken, and honestly, Cloud would have been more concerned if he wasn’t. That would have meant he was bottling things up, but when that bottle eventually exploded under the pressure, it would do so like a molotov cocktail—this was Sephiroth, after all. When he reached the end of his rope, he took the rest of the world with him. 

So, Cloud reminded himself that it was good Sephiroth wasn’t quite himself. It was good that he was willing to work at getting his head screwed back onto his shoulders correctly. It was good that his friends were here, and that they had both told and invited Cloud. Zack had been disappointed when told he couldn’t come to watch, but as that order had come from Angeal, he’d been willing to listen. 

Cloud would not have allowed Zack around an unstable Sephiroth. 

He watched the battle play out, his arms folded against his chest, First Tsurugi within arm’s reach at his side. He wasn’t very surprised about each SOLDIER’s skill level, having fought them all in the past. He watched the battle with a trained eye, cataloguing each maneuver, every sword stroke and flick of the wrist, in case he had to fight them all again. He couldn’t be too prepared, after all. But he was starting to have an ever-so faint glimmer of hope that it wouldn’t come to that. 

He was not particularly surprised when Sephiroth began slicing the Sister Ray to ribbons—he did like to use his surroundings to his advantage, and had few qualms with property damage. He was glad that he was aiming more to control the layout of their battlefield than to use the building chunks as projectiles, this time. It said something good about his frame of mind, even when shaken, that he wasn’t aiming to kill or maim. Or maybe it was just because these were his friends? No, he was not going to be pessimistic right now. Tifa wasn’t here to pull his head out of his ass if it got out of control. 

Cloud had to keep reminding himself, as the fight went, not to be pessimistic. Things were going completely fine. Genesis and Sephiroth were apparently very competitive when sparring, a little too much so for Cloud’s taste, but he could understand the urge in theory. There was probably something fun about throwing yourself against a brick wall of an enemy, knowing you were unlikely to win but trying anyway—when the stakes were low. 

Cloud had thrown himself at Sephiroth once too, but he’d been desperate and angry and terrified at the time. The world had hung in the balance, and if he slipped too far, it’d tip right into the abyss. That was not fun. Friendly sparring against a better opponent probably was. Cloud hadn’t actually sparred with anyone until after Meteorfall, and by then, there weren’t more challenging opponents to spar with. 

He’d had fun sparring with AVALANCHE still, though. He understood very well why Sephiroth would enjoy this, and why it would bring him some peace. It would prove to himself that he was still capable and competent, able to help, and fully able to hold himself back to not hurt anyone. It was why Cloud had agreed—Tifa had done the same maneuver with Cloud more than once. 

It was a little disconcerting to relate to Sephiroth like this, but it was growing less so. Those were phantom pains from injuries long since scabbed over, even if they had never fully healed. He didn’t expect they ever would, and he had made his peace with that. Just as he was making his peace with the way he related to Sephiroth. This was a different man, and frankly, he seemed like a decent person. In another lifetime, where Cloud sported none of those scabbed-over-wounds, they might have been good friends. Maybe they still would be. 

Cloud winced in sympathy as Genesis took a hit that Sephiroth clearly expected him to block in time. It wasn’t deep enough to sever anything, but it still had to hurt like a bitch. 

“Enough,” Cloud and Angeal called at the same time.

Genesis looked like he had half a mind to continue anyway, but Sephiroth had already lowered his blade. By the time Angeal had hurried over, Genesis had already sheathed his sword. 

“It’s fine, Angeal, just a scratch,” Genesis said, laying a hand over his shoulder where the wound was. 

“Sure it is, now let me look at it,” Angeal said, clearly bothered and mildly concerned, but not outright fretting yet. They had all taken worse blows in the war. Cloud was sure he’d given Genesis wounds at least as bad. This was surprising and odd, but nothing truly unusual. 

Genesis’s palm glowed green where it was pressed to his shoulder, casting a Cure on the wound as he said, “There’s nothing to look… at?”

Angeal reached him, Cloud not far behind, as Genesis was pulling off his jacket to look at the wound. The wound that should have closed with that spell. 

“It didn’t close?” Angeal said, clearly disturbed by the whole situation. 

“I suppose not,” Genesis muttered, before casting a Regen and another, higher level Cure spell. 

Nothing happened. 

Cloud glanced at Sephiroth, to see him completely shutting down. Part of this exercise had been to prove to him that he wouldn’t hurt anyone unintentionally. That bit had blown up in their faces, and now he was walling himself off emotionally. But there were more important things to worry about. He’d get to Sephiroth when he could. 

This wasn’t the first time Cloud had seen curative magic fail. 

“Let me see,” Cloud said, stepping closer. Angeal stepped out of his way as he moved in. 

Cloud peered at the wound. It looked relatively standard, aside from the not-curing part. 

“Well?” Genesis asked. 

“This is gonna hurt a bit,” Cloud warned. “Bear with me.”

Cloud then took the edges of the wound and spread it wider to look inside. Genesis hissed in pain, and Angeal said something to him in a comforting voice, but Cloud had stopped listening. 

It was faint, but it was there. Deep in the wound, Cloud could see mottled black on the tissue there. He didn’t doubt that the edges of the wound would be black before long. 

It wasn’t quite textbook. For there to be this typical Geostigma, it should have appeared first as mottled black on the skin. Cloud wasn’t sure if it typically had deep tissue affects like this before it appeared on the skin—no one had caught it that early before. There weren’t supposed to be symptoms until it appeared on the skin, but something had to be wrong with Genesis. He and Sephiroth sparred often, and they were both highly skilled. They knew each other’s capabilities, and Sephiroth wouldn’t have struck to hurt, not in this headspace. He had fully expected Genesis to block, and he would know better than almost anyone what Genesis was able to handle. 

Cloud didn’t answer any questions immediately; there was no doubt surveillance here. He instead had them return to Genesis and Angeal’s apartment, where Angeal started bandaging the sluggishly bleeding wound. The mako should have already started healing it, but it hadn’t. Of course it didn’t. The mako had never cured Cloud’s Geostigma. 

Genesis and Angeal had settled on the couch, while Sephiroth sat dazedly, silently in an armchair. Cloud sat on the coffee table across from Genesis. 

“Have you been feeling strange at all?”

“Define strange.”

“Fatigued, sluggish, delayed reaction time?”

“I just came back from a war zone, Cloud, I think that’s expected.”

“Mmhmm. And when’s the last time you were this fatigued since you made First?”

Genesis opened his mouth to deliver a no doubt smart-mouthed remark, but he quickly shut it again. He blinked in surprise before finally settling on a scowl. 

“I haven’t been in a war like this one since then.”

“What about body aches?” Cloud remembered the way his arm used to pulse with pain, the way it radiated through his whole body, making it feel like his insides were creaking. 

“What part of ‘war’ is so hard for you to grasp? You were there.”

“Okay, how about this,” Cloud said, before he turned and went to punch Angeal in the nose, as quick as Sephiroth’s strike had been. He caught it out of the air easily, thanks to having finished wrapping Genesis’s shoulder. 

“Is there a point here?” Angeal asked, apparently trying to decide if he should be irritated or concerned as Cloud withdrew his fist. 

“You and Genesis are enhanced the same amount, yeah? You’re the same rank?” When they nodded, he continued, “You have the same enhancements and fought the same war for the same amount of time. Are you fatigued with body aches?”

“… Not that I’ve noticed,” Angeal said slowly, clearly knowing it was damning. 

“Do you know something about this?” Genesis asked as his eyes narrowed. 

“How much did you tell them?” Cloud asked, finally turning to Sephiroth. 

Sephiroth, whose brows were furrowed as he listened to the conversation. 

“Everything you told me.”

“Right,” Cloud muttered. “It doesn’t quite look exactly like it, but it does look kinda like Geostigma.”

“… That’s the very deadly plague, isn’t it,” Genesis said. 

“Unfortunately. There was a cure, but I’m… not sure how to get it.”

“Well how did you get it the first time?” Angeal said, the concern in his voice growing palpable. 

“The last Ancient made it from within the Lifestream, which isn’t a situation we can replicate.” Cloud was not about to tell them he knew Aerith still, not when they all had a hungry, panicked look in their eyes. “There are a couple of different ways we might—we might… oh.”

The memory of Gaia’s voice surged forward in his mind, reminding him, “You will be able to create the water, as she did, when the time comes.”

“What?” Genesis said, leaning in. “What did you realize?”

Cloud opened his mouth to share the good news, that he would be able to make it just to realize… he had no fucking clue how. She hadn’t godsdamn told him how. 

Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, thinking, She knew. She never just tells me everything up front. So much bullshit could have been avoided if she just realized I’m not in the Lifestream and don’t know what she’s thinking. 

“Okay,” Cloud said slowly as he lowered his hand. “Okay, alright, uh-huh, yeah, I’ve got a, uh, lead. There’s just a snag.”

“Will you please, at least communicate fully when my life is on the line?” Genesis snapped. 

Cloud blew out a slow breath. He hadn’t really been planning on sharing the whole WEAPON thing with them. He still wasn’t comfortable with it himself, and it wasn’t like it had impacted them—up until right now. 

“Alright, yeah, I deserved that,” Cloud sighed. “I’ll be able to make it, I just need to get instructions on how.”

“You? But it was made by a dead Ancient last time,” Angeal said, teetering on the edge of hope and unsure if he should take the plunge. 

“Yeah, it’s, uh—hoo boy. I don’t know how to explain this bit.”

“Bluntly, please,” Angeal said. 

“What do you lot know about WEAPONs?”

Everyone in the room but Cloud blinked in surprise, even Sephiroth. He was clearly fully engaged again. 

“They’re the defenders of the Planet,” Sephiroth said, slow and thoughtful, as Genesis and Angeal looked confused. Must be above their pay grade. “But they’re massive things, and all dormant.”

“Not all of them.”

It was like the air was sucked out of the room. Everything and everyone went still and silent, for long enough that Cloud shifted uncomfortably. 

“What,” Genesis finally blurted. 

“Some are smaller. I know of at least two walking around.”

“And you’re one of them,” Sephiroth declared. “That’s why your mako levels are so high.”

“That’s why I didn’t know how high my levels were, yeah. Gaia isn’t exactly great at giving all the information.”

“Well, I feel much better about how you decimate us in a fight every time, now,” Genesis said with a sigh. 

“I guess your title as the peak of human combat achievement stands, Sephiroth,” Angeal said. He seemed to only be half-joking. 

“No,” Sephiroth said firmly, looking directly at Cloud. “Whatever Cloud is now, he was human first. Whatever has been done to his biology doesn’t change that.” Sephiroth turned to look at Angeal, arching an eyebrow. “Unless you weren’t being genuine when you applied that concept to me.”

Angeal opened his mouth to clarify, but Genesis bulldozed over him, saying, “Yes, yes, he’s a human enhanced to frankly absurd levels. I still take comfort knowing that fighting him is like a trooper fighting Sephiroth.”

Cloud and Sephiroth glanced at each other. They both remembered that Cloud had only been a trooper when he’d defeated Sephiroth the first time—how could they forget? But, if Genesis remembered, he clearly didn’t count it, likely because it had been Cloud. And only Cloud knew how truly, woefully unprepared he had been to take on Sephiroth that day. 

“But you’ll be able to make it?” Angeal pressed, focused once more on being sure his boyfriend would survive. 

“She said I could, and I’m not sure Gaia knows how to lie.”

“But you need instructions?”

“She didn’t tell me how. If I go to the Northern Crater I should be able to talk to her. I can ask her, and I won’t leave until I have the cure.”

“You can… just go talk to the Planet,” Genesis said. 

“It was news to me too,” Cloud said before turning to Sephiroth. “Think you can find a bullshit excuse to take me up there?”

Sephiroth’s eyes blazed with determination. He clearly needed to see the wrong he had caused, however roundabout, set right. 

“I’ll find a way.”

And Cloud believed him. He wasn’t sure there was a force in this world, excluding maybe himself, that could stop Sephiroth from doing what he wanted once he got that look. 

Cloud turned to Genesis, finally letting his face go a little softer. 

“You’ll be fixed up in no time. Just maybe don’t go to the Science Department about this. I’m not sure what they’d try to do about it, but knowing them, it will involve a lot of human experimentation. Which, in this case, means experimenting on you.”

Cloud wasn’t even going to mention clones. He would not speak that into existence. He wasn’t planting that idea in anyone’s head, thank you. 

Genesis waved him off, saying, “Point taken. Now, why don’t you two go find some excuse to go to the Northern Continent?”

Which was likely code for ‘I would like to be alone with my boyfriend as I am very distressed but too proud to say so, now get out.’ That was fine. Cloud could take a hint. 

He stood from the coffee table and nodded toward the door. Sephiroth stood, but hesitated before taking even one step. 

“Genesis, I—“

“Do not apologize to me for something you didn’t do. If anything, I’d like to say thank you, Sephiroth. If you hadn’t landed that hit, who knows how long this would have gone undetected, and how far it would have progressed. You have my gratitude. Now, seriously, go find my cure.”

Cloud and Sephiroth said quick goodbyes, before making themselves scarce. 

They had a new goal, after all.