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Sephiroth stared over the wreckage before him with eyes that both saw it and didn’t truly see it at the same time. It was a little bit much to take in, even for Sephiroth. When he’d left Midgar that morning, gone out to the swamps near the Chocobo Farm to hunt out some Zolom’s to release some… tension, Midgar had been standing. Gleaming, in fact, under the sun, despite the grime and filth that that covered much of it from the tightly-packed population and the never-ending smog and pollution that hung over the city.
It certainly hadn’t been this. This spectacle of rubble and twisted metal and cracked stone. Even Sephiroth, who usually wasn’t taken aback by anything, struggled to accept the sight in front of him. Devastation like this… shouldn’t Sephiroth have been aware of it? Even in the swamp, the thing that had accomplished this should have been able to be felt from even hundreds of miles away. Shouldn’t it have?
Perhaps Sephiroth would be reacting more and trying to reason out answers less if he had any sort of emotional tie to the town that had been considered his home all his life. But as it was, Sephiroth didn’t have any sentimentality for Midgar, or even the people there. Angeal and Genesis, his only friends, two men that he could only distantly call friends at that, had left Midgar long ago. Zack… he had Zack, he supposed. But even Zack was distant, pushed to the side by Sephiroth himself, even despite the Firsts efforts to be there for him.
As it usually did lately, when Sephiroth’s mind wondered to Zack it wondered to Cloud. Cloud…. Sephiroth’s mind stuck for a bit on the trooper, as it always seemed to from the very first moment that Zack had introduced the two. Sephiroth had never known an instant, easy attraction like what he felt for Cloud before. It was almost novel, to experience an emotion that most others talked about but Sephiroth had never encountered. The twisting in his stomach that didn’t really resemble butterflies at all, the urge to preen when the trooper was around, other things that all pointed toward a crush in the making.
Sephiroth had indulged the urges, so much so that he’d allowed himself to spend hours at a time lost in memory of the golden gleam of the trooper’s hair or the bright, untainted blue of his eyes- both seen on those rare occasions when he felt comfortable enough to remove his helmet. But even as he embraced the feelings behind his ‘crush’ he felt uncertain in how to deal with the man and Sephiroth’s own attraction to him. Lately, as he grew to know Cloud a little more, that uncertainty had only grown as his emotions turned into a longing for something that Sephiroth didn’t know how to ask for.
Thinking of Cloud had never stirred up this overwhelming tidal wave of possession, this almost overpowering drive to seek the man out, however. The near need to stand in front of him, and have the man look only at Sephiroth, nowhere else. The desire to place the man at his side, and never let him leave it; or to push him beneath him, and show Cloud just who he would always belong to in a more carnal fashion.
Very close to being overwhelmed, Sephiroth pushed aside the urges and turned his attention forcibly back to Midgar. It was every bit as broken as it had been the first time Sephiroth had seen it, and thus every bit as surprising. But even as Sephiroth was beginning to accept that Midgar had fallen, he was also slowly becoming aware of how… unsurprised he was. A part of him had been expecting this site when he’d approached Midgar. A part of him that was even satisfied about it, the sort of satisfaction brought about by a task well completed. The feeling was… concerning. And made Sephiroth wonder if he’d had any part of Midgar’s destruction, impossible as the idea should be.
Caught up in his thoughts, Sephiroth was only distantly aware of the sound of a vehicle pulling up behind him. His enhanced hearing could hear the cursing that had erupted in the vehicle before any of the occupants opened their doors.
“Shiva’s fucking tits, I told you we needed to call Strife in on this. That’s Sephiroth. That’s fucking Sephiroth. In the flesh. Again. Which: what the fuck, boss? What the hell are we doing? You decide that the Turks didn’t need to exist anymore and wanted to assign us all a suicide run? Get us all wiped out in one clean sweep? ‘Cause let me tell you, I do not plan on dying today, you can go and get all cozy with that psycho’s sword all by yourself-“
“Reno.” A stern voice cut in. A familiar stern voice, one in which Sephiroth could hear the stress that was barely hidden. Tseng was slipping, “Shut up.”
One after the other, the vehicles doors opened shortly after, and Sephiroth was still as the group of Turks approached him warily.
“Before we begin.” Sephiroth said calmly without bothering to turn as he felt them grow near, “Would any of you mind telling me what’s happened to Midgar?”
The group paused as one, and he could practically feel their stares on his back.
“…You don’t remember?” Tseng asked behind him, voice that measured cold that hid any emotion he might be feeling.
“What occurred here? No. When I left this morning, Midgar was in a much more… complete state. It certainly didn’t look like this.”
Sephiroth could practically feel the shared looks of the Turks behind him.
“I see. Well. Would you be willing to come with us? We would have to take- certain precautions. But we should be able to get you the answers you desire.” Tseng said in a smooth, courteous tone. One of his subordinates, Reno likely, squawked in outraged protest before being hushed hurriedly.
Sephiroth smirked to himself in amusement, even as he bowed his head in silent acceptance and allowed the Turk to approach him. The man hesitated uncharacteristically for a few seconds, and Sephiroth put his wrists behind his back at the question the man was doubtlessly gathering his nerves to ask. A type of odd handcuff was instantly placed onto them, one that slithered and clanked into place, and Tseng took a step back with a relieved puff of air the man seemingly had been unable to hold back any longer. Sephiroth inwardly scoffed at the man’s reliance on such a simple binding. As if that would be able to keep Sephiroth from killing them if he truly tried; as if he wouldn’t be able to break the handcuffs if he truly wished too, no matter what type of new technology they might be.
“Are you insane, Tseng? Have we all just gone batshit crazy today? Because you’ve gotta be shittin’ me with this.”
Foolish of the man to prattle on like he was, really. If Sephiroth wanted them all dead, they would be by now. The only thing his prattle was doing was ensuring that Sephiroth would go for him first to shut him up. Then again, perhaps that had been the point. The Turks weren’t protective of much, but they did tend to be protective of each other.
“You can have the passenger seat.” Tseng said with a polite smile when Sephiroth turned to face him. “Reno, you’re in the back.”
The man continued glare, even as he took a cautious step back and away as Sephiroth brushed by him to approach the car. When Tseng held open the passenger door for Sephiroth, Sephiroth settled himself inside and blankly stared out the front window.
“So we’re taking him back to the base so he can kill everyone instead of just us?” He heard Reno hiss to Tseng.
“No.” Tseng answered shortly. “We’re taking him to Reeve.”
***
Reeve, Sephiroth discovered, was just as much of a bleeding heart as Sephiroth had been vaguely aware of the man enough to know he had always been.
Even as the Turks and Reeve’s staff watched him warily from their places around the room- most positioned with their backs against a wall and close to an exit- Reeve, by contrast, was pacing around the middle of the room, sending him measuring glances all the while.
“Hey, bossman, we really trustin’ this jerk?” An animatronic cat asked with his own crossed arms and frowning face.
Even machines had reason to have a grudge against Sephiroth, apparently. There was something amusing about the thought, even as a part of him wondered how he knew what the creature before him was.
“He hasn’t threatened any of us.” Reeve said in a thoughtful voice as he gazed at Sephiroth with a distant look, “And all of his actions so far gives validation to the theory I had of Jenova being in control all along. His lack of memory, especially. Until we know how responsible he was for his actions, we can’t truly hold him accountable…” Reeve trailed off.
“And until we find out, you’ll keep him here?” Tseng asked carefully.
Reeve nodded. “This isn’t our main base, and there are rooms here that would be… comfortable for him.” And likely designed to deal with someone of similar to strength as Sephiroth, no doubt. “And Cloud will be here soon and has agreed to stay as long as necessary. I believe that this would be the best place for them both to remain, for now.”
Sephiroth carefully kept his expression the same as his heart kicked up a beat at the mention of the trooper, anticipation boiling in his veins at the promise of seeing him. A part of him felt as if the man’s presence had been why Sephiroth had gone along with any of this.
“Speaking of which, Sephiroth, I have to apologize for not offering you the chance to rest before. All of this must be quite a lot for you to handle. Would you like to rest to your room until Cloud gets here? I believe that he’s just an hour or so out. I could send him to your room when he arrives if you would like?”
Sephiroth bowed his head in agreement to Reeve’s offer.
“I believe that would be for the best.”
***
Sephiroth’s room, as he’d expected, was really more of a cell. The sort used for the solitary confinement of truly dangerous prisoners, where there were no bars, except for on the window of the room and the door. The flap on the bottom of the door was what was truly humorous, though. Mostly because if any of them tried to feed him through it, Sephiroth would summon Matsumune to his side and give them a surprise they wouldn’t soon forget.
It looked as if there had at least been an attempt to make the room homey. A bed, a true one, rested against the left wall with a nightstand beside it. A writing desk with a chair and a vase with a flower, likely fake, pressed into it stood against the other.
Sephiroth was just considering whether or not Reeve was making special arrangements for Sephiroth or if he simple treated all of his prisoners like this, when the door was abruptly shoved open and there he was.
Cloud, looking as breathtaking as ever, glaring at Sephiroth with eyes that were no longer free of a mako taint, but were all the more beautiful for the traces of Sephiroth’s green that were stamped into them like a brand. Sephiroth savored the sight of him for several long moments as the mercenary trembled with a speechless rage before him. There you are, Cloud. Sephiroth thought with a feeling of complete fulfillment, as if he were truly alive and engaged in a way that he hadn’t for the section of the day before this, Oh, how I’ve missed you.
“What sort of game are you playing at now?” Cloud finally snapped.
Sephiroth couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow at Cloud mockingly, “Do you think that I’m faking the loss of my memories? I assure you, I am not.”
He wasn’t lying about that, not truly at least. He had flashes of fractured memories, and an instinctual knowledge in how he should interact with those around him lingering in the back of his mind, but the bulk of his memories were truthfully gone.
He stood still as that caused Cloud to stoop and just stare at him for a long, long moment of time where Sephiroth made sure to stand very still and do nothing more threatening than breathing.
Finally, Cloud could see that he was telling the truth, or at least part of the truth, if the way he walked further into the room in a calmer fashion indicated anything.
“So, what, you expect us to say that you’re blameless for everything now? That’s a bit too much to expect. Even for you.” Cloud snapped, a little sarcastically.
“Reeve thinks that Jenova must have been controlling me.” Sephiroth pointed out mildly, both because it was a convenient excuse and because he wondered what Cloud might say about it. He didn’t know who Jenova was, other than a feeling that he had heard the name before, but he knew that she hadn’t been in control of him. The reverse, on the other hand… that might have been possible.
The thought of it felt right, at the very least.
“Reeve doesn’t know what really went on. Maybe… maybe she did influence you at first. In Nibelheim. But by the time you got to Midgar, after you’d died-“ After you’d killed me. Sephiroth thought, but didn’t know why, “You were in control of her. I think, even after you died again- you were in control. Even Geostigma… It might have had something to do with Jenova cells, but it wasn’t caused by her. It was caused by you.”
A sort of profound satisfaction swept through Sephiroth at Cloud’s words. It was the feeling of being acknowledged, of being seen by the person he wanted most to look at him and know him. Sephiroth had a feeling that even if it made things difficult he’d wanted Cloud to know that it had been him all along.
Even with memories, it felt satisfying on a visceral level to hear that he had.
“Perhaps.” Sephiroth replied after savoring the moment for a time, “But I stand before you now with no weapons, and no intention to hurt anyone. Tell me, could you withstand the guilt you would face if you were to attack me now? If you were to kill me while I raised no weapon to defend myself? From what memories we do have, we were friends once, after all.”
It was as plain as the room around them that Cloud couldn’t.
“What about when that changes?” Cloud demanded. “What about when you start wanting to hurt someone again. You really think that we shouldn’t take precautions against that?”
“Well. I suppose that’s up to you, Cloud.” Sephiroth said, the words feeling oddly familiar on his tongue, “There is one precaution you could take that would all but guarantee my continued peacefulness, and your nearness should that change. One thing you could give me that would be worth more than whatever havoc I could get up to. Do you know what that is?”
Cloud closed his eyes, looking as if he suddenly understood everything. “Me.” He said softly, in the tone of a man walking to a hangman’s noose.
“Yes.” Sephiroth confirmed, the word feeling truer than anything else he’d ever spoken aloud.
Cloud opened his eyes to stare at Sephiroth with eyes that were wild, torn from a thousand emotions with a nearly desperate hope that he would suddenly be told that Sephiroth had just been joking. When he got no such reassurance, he turned silently from Sephiroth and left the room with a slam of the heavy metal door.
Sephiroth stared after Cloud as he left, lips turning up into a smirk. He could practically taste the triumph that was racing through his bloodstream right then. Cloud could storm out without answering, or demand or even ask for as much time as he liked. Sephiroth had read the answer to his suggestion in the man’s eyes.
When the people he cared for were at risk, Cloud would always, always sacrifice himself for them. Always. It wasn’t in him to do anything less. (And maybe. Maybe there was even a little bit of his own want for the things Sephiroth spoke of in his eyes, reluctant and hated as the feeling obviously was.)
There was no chance that Cloud was going to say no to him this time. All Sephiroth needed to do now was be patient.
And wait until all he’d ever wanted walked right into his arms.