Chapter Text
—Barret—
Sephiroth had gone so pale as to be a Ghost; Barret reached out to grip his knee as his arms were full of Marlene.
"Drag-on-shit!" Oh no.
"Little bird, that is not for you—" Sephiroth corrected immediately but Marlene grinned wide.
"Shit!"
"That is not for little girls," Mrs. Strife chided gently before she said wryly, "My apologies, forgot we had little ears in the room,"
Marlene paused, looked around the room and said quietly, "No shit?"
"No baby, that's for grownups." He explained softly as the SOLDIERs were loosing it in the distance.
To be fair—ha!—it was pretty funny.
"Okay,"
Sephiroth was shaking, the guffaw that burst out of him closer to despair than mirth but hey, Barret wouldn't judge him even if he did.
Hell of a world view shift within the last few hours, let alone the last few weeks.
Dinner went quietly, asking to pass the salt or pepper, cutlery clinking on plates.
Dishes were somehow managed between the three remaining SOLDIERs and Cloud, who remembered where everything should go.
Marlene'd had a temper tantrum about her usual bath but he chalked it up to the new place and her testing the waters as to what was the same.
"No! No bath!"
"Little bird, don't you want to be warm?"
"No!"
"Guess I'm coming in then," Sephiroth winked, lifted one socked foot above the temperate water and she squeaked. "I'd like to be warm and if you're not going to..."
"Want bath, Papa! Want bath, Daddy!"
Both of them froze, Sephiroth's irises thin slits of green around the rounded out pupil.
"Who taught you that?" Barret blurted out before he could think it through properly.
"Selphie! Pretty Selphie,"
Sephiroth muttered under his breath, "I'm going to murder her later," before he settled into a kneeling position. "Am I Papa?"
"Yes," the absolute certainty seemed to floor Sephiroth. "My Papa,"
"All yours," he crooned softly, reaching for the water cup, "Bath now?"
"Yes Papa~" Marlene seemed pretty satisfied with herself even as Barret grinned at her over Sephiroth's head.
Sephiroth was as gentle as ever, soaping up her hair and then rinsing softly, scrubbing her down with soft motions and then rinsing her off each time.
He scooped her into a towel, the vulnerability in his gaze something Barret had rarely seen.
"I... don't know how to feel," Sephiroth confessed as he dried each of her toes, then the legs and her torso.
She slapped her still damp fingers on his cheeks, "Papa, story?"
"As you wish," he murmured, green eyes looking down on honey brown with an affection Barret knew well.
Whatever happened, Sephiroth was now and forever linked to their family.
Her head nestled on his shoulder, they settled in the living room, Sephiroth wrapping himself around them both.
The purr sounded automatically, the deep surrusus warming his back and arms.
As his eyes were half-lidded with contentment, Sephiroth missed the way Mrs. Strife looked at them with a quietly resigned look.
Loss marked her too then, same as him; widow to widower, he gave a nod of acknowledgement.
She shrugged and settled on the rocker with the thick cushion. "Dilly-dally, shilly-shally," she said and meant it.
"Actually, there's... two stories, I think," Aerith piped up from were she was jammed between Zack and Cloud. "Might even be the same one, if I'm not wrong,"
The PHS were piled in the center and Aerith's hands glowed brightly. "Now they're transmitting but nothing we say will reach it properly,"
Barret cleared his throat at that.
"First, former General Rhapsodos was correct. I am the last Ancient, better known to the world over as a Cetra—"
The thought that had been chasing itself since dinner finally formed.
"I... don't think so," he replied, brow furrowed as he thought back.
Sharp green eyes looked at him in utter confusion. "I don't understand,"
"I think... I think you and Sephiroth are related."
He watched as she thought it over, her gaze snapping to Sephiroth's hairline and then to his eyes.
"Seph," Zack broached carefully, "do you know anything about your Mom?"
"Her name is JENOVA but—"
Mrs. Strife's relaxed position shifted as she set her socked feet firmly on the floor.
"Your Mother's name is Lucrecia Crescent," she corrected with a shake of her head.
"Crescent, Crescent... oh fuck," Kunsel muttered. "Dr. Lucrecia Crescent, right?"
"One and the same, why?"
"Punishment detail, they had me reorganizing the shit-show that is Hojo's records and well, Seph has boxes on boxes of the stuff. At the bottom of the, like, second to last one, there was a birth certificate. I made a copy because it was weird. Hold on," Kunsel rummaged quickly through his Inventory, pulling out a black and white copy of what very much looked like—
"That's a Nibelheim certificate," Cloud blurted, glowing blue eyes wide from the shock.
Looked like Sephiroth had a hometown after all.
"Think Mrs. Strife was about to tell us this next bit though," Kunsel explained with a shrug.
"Indeed I was; you see, I was witness to a marriage in the town hall. It was late, the judge woken from his sleep for it and they needed a witness that would keep quiet,"
"Two, actually," Cloud filled in quietly, "Nibelheim likes to be redundant,"
"Exactly. And as it was Fenris and myself as witnesses, I recognized Sephiroth well before he ever managed to be on a poster. Your Father was Vincent Valentine, the Turk guarding your Mother on her mission here." She paused, "I witnessed another wedding, just shy of three months."
Sephiroth's entire frame stiffened. "Hojo," he croaked out.
"Yes." Her gaze held no pity and for that Barret was grateful. Sephiroth slowly handed off Marlene, shrugged on his duster and bolted before any of them could move aside from Cloud.