Hi!

Okay, once again I find myself having to apologize for the long wait for this chapter. Believe it or not, I really did mean to post something way back around New Year, but…yeah, six months later… sigh Crisis Core finally kicked me out of the writer’s block, though. Of course, now I want to write a Crisis Core fic (Zack is so CUTE!) along with the millions of other ideas I’ve come up with (along with my little jaunt into the DMC universe over on AFF). Makes working on this hard. But I will finish this fic!

So, as an apology (and because once the muse got started, it didn’t want to stop) I present you with an extra long chapter! Almost double the usual size! I know it doesn’t make up for six months of neglect (!! Has it been that long already?!), but I hope you all like it.

So, no more procrastinating! On to Chapter 21!

Standing on a rise, watching the lines of trenches slowly spread like cracks in a windshield, Cloud was already engaged in combat. He was fighting the memory of months spent hunkered down in such trenches, watching the men around him die, some spent cheaply by the idiots in command, some simply vanishing in the night, still others falling to the illnesses that swept their lines. He wanted to vomit thinking of it, reflecting on how this had seemed like such a good idea before he’d actually seen it. He’d never thought that he’d come to a point where he’d remember too much, not when the fabric of his memory most closely remembered a dusty, moth-eaten rug that no one had bothered to clean the mud from before they put it away. And really, that was still the trouble. He could remember only bits and pieces, most of them involving the sheer physical misery that had been trench warfare back in Wutai. The memories that would have put these others in perspective were still AWOL—if he ever caught them, he’d have to shoot them for desertion in the face of the enemy.

Still, despite his sudden squeamishness, Cloud decided that the construction was going well. Units of militia, Regular army, and SOLDIER worked in close concert, sometimes digging with the aid of bulldozers and backhoes, sometimes just with shovels and sweat. There were survey teams out in force to map the expanding warren and guide the crews to the next dig sites—not to mention steering them clear of known hazards and occasional buried utility lines. From his perch at the edge of one of the cliffs of the Wastelands, Cloud thought the workers resembled ants. He could make out their varicolored uniforms from this distance, and even the occasional militia head- and armbands, but they seemed so tiny. He wondered if their efforts would be enough.

He hated himself when he caught himself thinking about how pathetic their efforts were, hated the part of him that was so convinced nothing could stand against Jenova’s might, the part that longed to worship that power. It was way too easy to think like Jenova from this height, and he itched to be down there among the mud, sweat, and busy vehicles, even despite the nausea the thought of the trenches woke in him. He would rather feel like he was on the brink of a post-traumatic episode than like he was a part of that monster.

But that wasn’t his role. While most of the troops were building the fortifications that would defend the civilians from Jenova and her army and would give the Midgar forces fighting positions, Cloud had a different task. The company to which he’d been assigned and the two companies directly on either side were planned to take the brunt of Jenova’s attack—she would go after Cloud anyway, so Reeve, Sephiroth, and the other heads of Shinra’s remaining armed forces had decided to give him the support of essentially three companies of SOLDIERs. They were practicing working together against a common enemy, using the tumbled terrain to get used to working on uneven ground. AVALANCHE was present in force, helping Cloud and the higher-than-usual percentage of CAVs assigned to the three units to train everyone else up in anti-Jenova tactics.

Not everyone in the three companies was one of the Volunteers, since there was only about a large company’s worth in the whole of SOLDIER. They drew a lot of them since they were virtually guaranteed to face Jenova, but others had been sprinkled through the other SOLDIER forces with directions to at least verbally teach their units what they could about Jenova and her monsters. Cloud and his support weren’t the only ones cramming in frantic training—even from here, Cloud could see little knots of people form around CAVs during breaks, animated discussions taking place. There were even a few Regulars and militiamen hanging around the edges, which made Cloud feel better. The more the knowledge was spread, the better off they’d all be.

It was grueling work. Even with the stamina any SOLDIER had, the men were looking a bit run down, and it would get worse over the next couple of days. They had a lot to learn and practically no time in which to do it. Especially since, after those days of harsh training, they would need some time to recuperate physically so they’d be able to stand strong against Jenova.

The other defensive efforts were also proceeding apace, at least from what Cloud heard. The evacuation of Midgar’s shantytowns was nearly done, with much less fuss than Cloud had anticipated, and the resettling in the new location outside Sector Six was almost complete. The militia’s stations were mostly decided upon already, usually in preexisting defensible locations like rock outcroppings and tumbled-down buildings. The new tent city sat right at the edge of the Midgar ruins, partially stretching into the old city in places the debris was more stable. Then it was surrounded by a thin ring of militia stations, a bit thicker on the outside edge where Jenova was predicted to come. But Reeve was taking no chances—there were automated defenses scrounged from the wrecked Shinra facilities to flesh out the defensive perimeter, and small stations for men in the ruins and even on the far side of them, just in case Jenova tried something excessively sneaky.

A good setup, all in all, especially considering the haste with which it had all been thrown together. Cloud just wished the waiting part would hurry up and get done. He hated having all this time to worry and wonder. Oh, sure, everyone else felt pressed for time, but all he had to do was get ready to fight, and he was always ready to fight. He’d already read the battle plan, quadruple-guessed his Materia allocations, and sharpened Ultima weapon—which, being part of a WEAPON, and therefore part of the Planet itself, didn’t actually need sharpening. Ever. He’d checked his light-weight armor, debating how much magic defense he’d need versus physical defense, wondered if he would need any elemental or status protection, and basically paced a rut in the tent he was living out of in the Sector Six edge city. It would almost be a relief when the fight came. He was looking forward to a world free of Jenova. He knew they wouldn’t lose—not with him, and AVALANCHE, and SOLDIER, and Sephiroth. It was just inconceivable. Maybe it was stupid of him, but he couldn’t imagine them losing, even with Jenova’s voice flickering at the edges of his consciousness.

Motion below caught his eye and drew him from his brooding thoughts. A small squad of lightly armored chocobos, obviously animals trained for combat duties, moved around the trenches and the busy workers. Many of the workers stopped to watch for a while, before their supervisors chivvied them back into order. It was obvious even from Cloud’s distance exactly what they were looking at—the blaze of brilliant silver hair was like a neon sign proclaiming Sephiroth’s presence among the riders. Thinking what an image Sephiroth must be while riding some great warbird, Cloud could well believe people would stop to watch him pass. In fact, he wished he had a better view himself.

The small figure below looked up at him, and for some reason, though he couldn’t make out the man’s other features from here, Cloud could see his eyes, was even drawn into them. Sephiroth raised his arm, and Cloud smiled and waved back. Sad that this was the closest they’d been for the two days since they’d moved their necessities into their assigned places in the tent city. Already, Cloud missed his lover, both physically and just for the pleasure of being near him.

Sephiroth was evidently of the same opinion, for he waved the other riders on and turned his own chocobo up the slope toward Cloud. The other riders scattered fairly quickly, but Cloud really only had eyes for Sephiroth. The sight of his already-magnificent lover on a war-chocobo was easily as striking as he’d imagined.

Sephiroth halted his chocobo only feet from Cloud, a slight smile curving his lips and softening his sharp features. Cloud wished he’d get off the damn bird and come down where he could kiss him.

“Hello,” Sephiroth said with a little purr and Cloud knew his lover had been missing him too. He fixed a slightly sultry smirk on his face and purred right back.

“Hey.”

Sephiroth twitched slightly, leaned as if to dismount, then caught himself and straightened in the saddle. Cloud was disappointed, but knew it was probably for the best—damn it.

A distraction was in order.

“So,” he asked, trying to keep his cool. “Where are you off to? And what’s the big bag you’re carrying?”

Sephiroth quirked a brow at him, and his smile turned wry. “The bag is a set of remote sensors. I will be traveling out toward the beach to emplace them. The others are also carrying sensors to emplace. We have decided we want some form of early warning system to tell us when she’s coming.” They both shivered a little at the reference to Jenova, equal parts fear, revulsion, and twisted longing. “We can’t just rely on you and me being able to sense her. She’s more than capable of hiding herself from us, and even if she chooses not to, we only have precise measures of where she is within a few miles. And that’s not good enough.”

Cloud shook his head. “No, I guess not.” He sighed. “I just wish I could do something more helpful than sit here and stew.”

“You’re readying your troops to fight, and helping others do so. That’s an important task,” Sephiroth commented.

“Yeah, I know. It just gives me too much time to think.”

“Be grateful there is time to think now. Soon enough, that’ll be a luxury of which I doubt she’ll allow much.” He smiled. “Maybe you just need something else to think about.”

Even with the verbal warning, the kiss still surprised Cloud. It had to be uncomfortable for Sephiroth to bend down at such an angle, his saddle was probably digging into some rather tender places, and his chocobo squawked a protest, but Sephiroth seemed heedless of all of it. So Cloud threw himself into the moment, too, humming softly into his lover’s mouth. Their mouths were open, but no tongues became involved until the little flick Sephiroth gave right before he pulled away. Cloud reached after him reflexively, only to have his hand caught in Sephiroth’s. The taller man smiled down at him from the great height of the chocobo’s saddle, twining their fingers together. Their rings clicked together through the leather, and Cloud shivered at the reminder of all they had been and might one day be again.

Sephiroth stared at their joined hands for a moment, rubbing his thumb thoughtfully over the ring under Cloud’s heavy glove. Cloud shifted anxiously and Sephiroth looked up at him, eyes even more intense than usual.

“We’ve made no promises,” Sephiroth murmured. “And we only recently became intimate again. But you’ve worn this the whole time, carried it with you even when you didn’t remember anything. And I have to wonder—why?”

Cloud shrugged. “Because sometimes all that keeps me going is hope, and I guess this represents hope for a happy future to me. Or maybe the memories of a happy past. I hoard them, you know. Every scrap of memory is a treasure—good or bad, there’s nothing I don’t cherish.” He felt his face heat, and dropped his gaze. “I guess I’m a little obsessive about you, Seph.”

Sephiroth chuckled. “I’ve proven I obsess over you, too, so don’t feel bad. Besides, so far as I’m concerned—look at me when I say this, Cloud.” Cloud looked up, and Sephiroth nodded. “Better. So far as I’m concerned, your hope will not be in vain. Only death will ever part us again, and that for only a little while.” His voice was gentle, but determined. “Understand?”

Cloud nodded a little dazedly, then smiled wryly. “You pick the strangest times and places to get all romantic. I mean, while preparing for a battle, when we’ve barely seen each other for days, and we only just got together again? Really.”

Sephiroth shrugged. “Seems fine to me. What better time?” He finally let go of Cloud’s hand and whirled his chocobo in place to face back the way he’d come. “I had better get going, but mark my words—when I get back, I don’t care what they have us doing. We will spend some time together.” The tall general tapped the chocobo’s side and man and beast started down the rise.

Cloud grinned, feeling a little lighter, now that he’d seen his lover. “Count on it, mister! Or else!” he shouted, not caring who heard or saw him bellowing after the General.

Until he turned back toward the SOLDIERs to find many of them staring at him in various degrees of shock and confusion, and the members of AVALANCHE staring not at him, but at Tifa. Who was red in the face and looked ready to Final Heaven him clear into next week. He’d have to read about Jenova’s defeat in the after-action reports.

“Uh…” he began, not entirely sure what he was going to say. He’d known he’d have to tell them eventually, but he’d hoped for rather more controlled circumstances. And really he’d been procrastinating finally telling them, and he knew it, but they were his friends, and he knew that this wouldn’t likely go over too well. Vincent had been fine with it, for which Cloud was dizzyingly grateful, but Tifa? He felt sick.

The furious brunette fighter stormed up to him, getting right in his space and glaring into his face. Her eyes were practically as red as Vincent’s, and Cloud cringed inwardly. This was going to hurt.

“What, exactly, was that all about?” she demanded. “Looked to me like you were swapping spit with Jenova’s spawn. Is that why he’s running around unsupervised doing Planet-knows-what to our defenses? Because he’s compromised you?”

Cloud scowled and stepped away from her. He’d been all ready to cringe and beg forgiveness for not telling them, but he wasn’t about to take implications of inappropriate behavior lying down. Not to mention an insult! “Damn it, Tifa, you’re not my mother, not my girlfriend, and I don’t see a brand on my skin that says I’m your property. If I decide to see someone, it’s not your business. And furthermore, Sephiroth has proven he’s not working for Jenova anymore, so get off the old ‘we can’t trust that monster!’ refrain. It’s getting old. Oh, and, for the record, I really don’t like you calling my boyfriend ‘Jenova’s spawn.’ So don’t.”

“B-boyfriend?” Yuffie asked from nearby. The young ninja girl cracked up. “He’s an ex-psychotic, world-destroying general who can cut buildings in two without even trying, and you call him ‘boyfriend?’ Not lover, not partner, not significant other—boyfriend!” The girl was practically rolling on the ground howling with laughter.

Cloud colored. “Would you prefer ex-fiancé?”

“What?!” Tifa exploded, her screech rising above even Barret and Cid’s combined swearing. Yuffie’s jaw swung open, while Red just patiently sat back on his haunches, waiting for the explanation. Too bad Reeve wasn’t around so Cloud could get everyone out of the way all at once. Though he had a suspicion that the interim President knew or suspected at least the lovers bit.

Cloud sighed and began working his glove off. “Look, Nibelheim disrupted a lot of stuff in my life. If not for that…bitch, Jenova, this ring—” he held up his hand to display the simple silver ring that symbolized everything he and Sephiroth had had together. “Would have been replaced by another fairly quickly. And if Zack could have managed it, Aeris would have had one just like it, too. Well, I guess he probably would have gone for diamonds and stuff, but given what we did for a living, simple was better for Seph and me.”

“F--ing dammit, I’m going to kill that man!” Cid exploded.

Cloud glowered. “Better not.”

“No, no, not him. Vincent! How long has he known about this? That creep has been dropping hints for ages about how it would ‘make Cloud happy if we eased up a little on Sephiroth.’ How we should ‘forgive and move on, after all, just look at Cloud!’” He waved his lit cigarette in a furious circle, shaking his fist. “And all this time, I’m thinking he’s just trying to soften us all up for the ‘Sephiroth really doesn’t look much like Hojo’ bomb! Damn, I’m a f--ing idiot! And I’m going to f--ing kick his uptight, angsty, incommunicative ass the minute doing it won’t land him back in the hospital!”

Cloud offered a half-smile. “If it’s any consolation, I think he’s been working on that one, too.”

“Oh, shit!” Yuffie exclaimed. “You’re right! He looks more like…” She trailed off, then cut her eyes at Cloud. “Okay. I’m suddenly understanding why you might go for that crazy jerk. Just by extension, you understand.”

Cid glowered, and with an expression like that, he probably didn’t need a lighter for his cigarettes. “You better not be implying you’ve got a thing for a certain tall, dark, and f--ing broody ex-TURK of our acquaintance.”

“Oh, no way. Not my type. Short and blonde is really more my speed. But that doesn’t mean I’m blind. Any doofus can tell Vincent Valentine is hot. Why that woman left him for a creepy old prune like Hojo, I’ll never understand.”

“So you are saying you would rather have Cloud,” Red XIII said, though with his nose, he almost certainly had known the truth of things well in advance.

Yuffie blinked momentarily, then colored. “Oh, gross! No offense, Cloud, but no way, not ever!” She shuddered. “I have no interest in any of you idiots who let a one-eyed trouser snake do all your thinking for you.” Barrett and Cid looked a little offended, but Cloud smirked. He was more than happy to let Sephiroth’s ‘trouser snake’ do the thinking, so long as it was in the appropriate time and place. Cloud was jolted from these pleasant musings by another round of shocked gasps and the sweet symphony of Cid and Barrett cursing.

“What?” Yuffie demanded. “You think I let her tie me up just because? Sheesh. And people think I’m an airhead. You guys should have seen the old man’s face when I told him!” she crowed gleefully. “I thought he was gonna nuke the Pagoda right there! It was great!” She scrunched up her face. “Even if I do keep getting cornered by TURKs threatening me with bodily harm if I ever so much as bruise her heart. As if! Tseng’s pretty scary, you know, for a dude in a wheelchair. Then Reno’s got the damn Lifestream backing his threats, and Rude just freaks me out—he never talks! And Reeve’s even worse! Something about ‘can’t run this place without her.’” She grinned broadly, puffing herself up, her tiny frame ready to burst with pride. “See! My girl is important.”

“I’ll be sure to remind you how cool you thought it was when your relationship turns out to include a marriage of state,” Red commented dryly and Yuffie sputtered a protest.

Amused, Cloud glanced around at the assembled. “Anyone else have anything to share with the rest of the class?” he asked ruefully, unsure how training SOLDIERs against Jenova had turned into a round of truth or dare. He shot a sideways glance at Cid, who swore.

“F--! Don’t look at me! You want more of Vincent’s f--ing secrets, you f--ing pry them from him your own damn self! Like blood from a f--ing stone!”

Shrugging—he’d been kind of hoping for something to either prove or disprove the idea he’d gotten in his head that the pilot and the ex-TURK were sleeping together—he directed his Mako-bright gaze across the faces of the group. Tifa was still looking distinctly mutinous, but everyone else seemed to be handling it all well enough. Even Barrett no longer wore that expression of mingled horror and rage, replaced with a vague sort of shock and a look Cloud recognized as ‘don’t bother me, foo’—I’m processing.’ It would take a while until he knew how everything would fall out on the topic, but at least he knew most of his friends were willing to trust his judgment.

Which just left Tifa. Again. As usual.

“Okay, then. Break time’s over. We only have a little while to get everyone up to speed on how to handle Jenova.” Cloud clenched his fists until his knuckles popped, hating even having to say her name, spitting it like a curse. Hell, it was a curse. She was a curse, a blight on the whole Planet. The name seemed to yank everyone back to the task at hand, the general good mood dropping, faces settling into grim determination from their easy smiles. “Let’s do this, people.”

Cid rolled his eyes. “Well, at least it’s better than ‘let’s mosey,” he grumbled, ambling back toward the SOLDIERs, whom Cloud was pretty certain had heard every word. He would have, anyway. The others followed Cid, except for Tifa, who stood before him, gnawing her lip and locking desperate eyes on his face as she cast about for the right words.

“I’m…sorry,” she finally said. Cloud kept his face as still and impassive as possible.

“Are you really?” he asked quietly. “And I want the truth. You told me you would try to let go of the grudge, but it seems that either you haven’t been trying hard enough, or you don’t trust me enough anymore to ask for help.”

Tifa’s head shot up, red-brown eyes wide. “No! That’s not it at all! It’s just…you’ve been under his power before, seen things and believed things just because he wanted you to, and I…” She ducked her head. “I know you say you don’t love me, and you never will. But even though I’m…trying…to get over that, over you, I still do love you. And I always will. And it would just kill me to see you give your heart to someone who didn’t take care of it. I don’t want to see you broken again.”

Cloud felt his heart soften. Tifa was a good woman. Occasionally overbearing and clingy, but it was as much a part of her nature to take care of those she cared for as it was to beat her enemies senseless. In some ways, her care was more genuine than even Aeris’s—Aeris was a Cetra, compelled by her connection to the Planet to offer aid wherever she could. Tifa had only her big heart and generally kind disposition to explain her actions. And if she was more like a she-wolf than a fluffy bunny…well, she wore that on her sleeve, too. It wasn’t like he could say he hadn’t known about that right from the beginning.

Cloud reached out to grasp her shoulder firmly. “Tifa. I appreciate your concern. Really. It kinda makes me feel…safe, I guess. Like, if anything does go wrong, at least someone’s got my back. But I really don’t think anything will go wrong, not between Seph and me, anyway. He’s…” Cloud could feel his lips curve up in a disgustingly besotted smile, but couldn’t bring himself to care. “He’s the way he was before, mostly, only he’s not as worried about hurting me, anymore. I don’t know for sure if we’ll get back to what we had, but… It seems likely, you know? Stupid damn alien won’t give us time to figure things out, but maybe once this is all over.”

Tifa looked sad. “So, you’re gonna marry him, after all?”

Cloud frowned. “I don’t know. Not for a while, obviously, since we haven’t really had time to be in a relationship together yet, not with all that’s been happening. But, maybe someday.”

Tifa suddenly grinned. “So, which of you is wearing the dress?”

Cloud blinked, not fully convinced he’d heard what he thought he’d heard. Then he blinked again and spluttered in outrage. “Hey!” He took a swipe at her, missing only by a hairsbreadth thanks to her quick reflexes. “Tifa, not fair!” She took off running toward the SOLDIERs, laughing over her shoulder at him.

“You’ve still got that sweet purple number, right? It’s not really the right color, though you obviously can’t wear white, but I’ll bet Sephiroth will like it!”

“Hey!” Cloud exclaimed indignantly, chasing after her. “Come back here so I can beat your head out of the gutter! Tifa!”

“It seems that things are as ready as they’re going to be,” Reeve commented, looking out across the Wastes. The brutalized, Mako-drained land had been transformed over the last few days, and was barely recognizable anymore. It was as dry and dead as before, but a maze of deep trenches had spread inexorably through it, heavy embankments reinforcing the earthen fighting positions. Tall lookout towers and heavy weapons emplacements bristled all along the lines, and coils of vicious razorwire were strung across the dead spaces between positions. Mines and booby-traps were easily hidden in the tortured earth—all the ground had been shifted somehow, so there was no telltale sign of something buried to tip off the enemy.

Reeve’s eyes probably couldn’t make out the small knots of troops moving along the lines, going about duties they had settled in surprisingly well despite the short warning. But Sephiroth’s could and did, searching for a blond head he knew wouldn’t be there. Cloud should be much farther out, beyond even Sephiroth’s sight, but that didn’t stop him from straining his eyes for a glimpse of his lover.

This was even worse than when Cloud had been in Wutai, and he and Zack had been stuck in Midgar. The fighting hadn’t even started yet, but Sephiroth was worried, frightened even. Cloud was more than capable of taking care of himself, but that didn’t stop the fear. Jenova was coming with a horde of monsters at her side, all bent on destroying humanity, and especially on tearing Cloud away from him. Sephiroth was determined not to let her succeed, but even his strength and Cloud’s formidable abilities could be overcome if she had enough monsters and enough luck on her side.

O’Dell, a man with whom Sephiroth had not been acquainted before this, but who was turning out to be competent and easy to work with, spoke up. “There’s still a little bit of shoring up to be done on the north end of the trenches, and the last of the heavy weapons are being emplaced today and tonight. By tomorrow, all the major physical defenses will be complete, assuming nothing goes any more off-kilter than expected. All the currently emplaced weapons have been test-fired, and all of the weapons have had full diagnostics. We even have experienced crews on most of them.”

“Good.” Reeve nodded decisively. “And the reissue?”

Sephiroth spoke up. “Front line units are about ninety percent complete for standard equipment—weapons, armor, tents, emergency rations, and so on. Materia allocations are a little behind. Call it eighty percent complete, though all SOLDIERs have their Materia in order, at least. For those units not stationed on the outermost defense perimeter, reissue is about fifty percent complete, including Materia. We have taken pains to ensure everyone has a weapon, even if the attack were to come right now, though some of those weapons are desperately in need of replacement. Some were old when we went to Wutai, Dragoon War era equipment, even. Still, if she really takes as long as we estimated, reissue should be complete by then.”

He frowned. “My biggest concern—” /Aside from Cloud, of course./ “—is rations. If we cannot defeat her fairly promptly, food and clean water will become troublesome. Fighting and spellcasting take a lot of energy, and the Wastelands are hot. With Jenova’s presence fouling any natural springs,” it took more effort to force her name out than it should have, and he despised his own weakness. “Pre-bottled water will be the only option. I have assigned teams to procure water, and empty containers are being cleaned and filled. Hopefully, we will have enough.”

Reeve nodded grimly. “I hope so. If it comes to it, we will send part of the civilian ration forward. It does no good to have healthy, comfortable civilians defended by dehydrated, dying troops.” The interim President looked pained, and Sephiroth wondered anew at the novelty of serving a leader who actually gave a crap about the people he was supposed to lead. Shinras seemed to have caring bred right out of them, and Sephiroth had been convinced that anyone who joined the Company had it torn out of them, especially if they then reached higher levels of power within the Company. He’d been convinced even he was the same way for a long time, until an annoying brunet boy—the protégé of one of Sephiroth’s few, somewhat distant friends—came along and pestered his way into his heart and his bed. Then Cloud had come along, and that needed no explanation.

It was such a relief to serve a man who actually seemed to deserve it. Whenever actual elections managed to happen, Sephiroth suspected Reeve would find himself officially President, no matter if it was a popular vote or a more Shinra-standard vote of the Board and Department Heads. Sephiroth knew where he’d be casting his vote, if he got one.

Reeve shook his head as if to dispel his grim mood. “News from Junon?”

Andrews spoke. “Colonel Shimo called in from one of the waypoints on the coastal road a few hours ago. They’re still several days out, but shouldn’t get here much after Jenova’s forces do. With luck, we won’t need them, but if we do, they’ll be perfectly positioned to take her from the side. The Airstation at Junon is also standing by to sortie as needed. Incidentally, our own air forces seem to be doing pretty well, too. The cannons Captain Highwind managed to attach to that ship of his are up and running, and we’ve got some of the Deepgrounders and their choppers, Shrikes, and Dragonflies boosting our capacity.”

Sephiroth glanced over at Andrews. “Weiss is behaving?”

Andrews shrugged. “Seems to be. It’s Rosso we’re having problems with—I don’t mind telling you, that woman scares me. Nero does too, but as long as you don’t come between him and his brother, he’s usually okay. Azul does what Weiss commands, and Shelke is practically Azul’s shadow. None of the others down there will make a move without Weiss’s say so.”

Sephiroth frowned. “Deepground maintains their own weapons and Materia stores…”

O’Dell blinked. “How do we keep them contained, then?”

Sephiroth smiled without humor. “We don’t. They stay put mostly because they have no desire to leave. Oh, there are heavy steel and adamant doors that theoretically lock them into the spaces around Reactor Zero, but if they really wanted to, they could easily break out.” He eyed Andrews. “They might make a good ally…”

Andrews shook his head vehemently. “No. We’re not so desperate as to go courting that bunch of crazy butchers.”

Sephiroth crooked a brow. “Why not? You already did this one. And you discovered he’s not as crazy as you may have thought. The only time you have seen Deepgrounders is when they were taken out to fight, and to probably die doing so. Do you think Weiss offered up the cream of his crop, or the troublemakers who disturbed their closed little society?” Andrews frowned a little, looking uncomfortable, but as though he was considering it. Sephiroth sighed. “I’m not saying we should welcome them with open arms—many are mad, by our standards, and some have been reduced to little more than animals by trauma and mutation. But keep in mind that if we can secure a little of their loyalty, it would probably make it harder for Jenova to obtain their cooperation.”

“Do they suffer?” Reeve asked, looking haunted. Sephiroth was again reminded of how compassionate this man was, how he could hurt for others. He really wasn’t cut out to lead in time of war…but on the other hand, who better?

“I couldn’t say for sure. I have had only limited dealings with them, mostly with those sent to die, or with Weiss and his council—Tsviets, they call themselves. Those sent to die seem happy enough to throw themselves at any target that presents itself, heedless of the possibility of death. Weiss is extremely intelligent, strong, capable. He takes care of his people, his brother most of all. He is…” He hesitated, unsure how to word things in the least damning manner possible. Reeve tore his gaze from the trenches to look at him, waiting patiently for the rest. “He is…like me, I think. How much so, I refuse to speculate. But I think he is capable of perpetrating atrocities…if he is given reason to do so. If he is not given such a reason, I think—I hope—he would be content to see to the well being of his people.”

Reeve looked back over the lines. “No matter what they’ve done, they can’t possibly have deserved whatever Hojo did to them. They can’t deserve to be locked away from even the sight of the sky, no more than the people of the slums did.” He drew himself up and turned to face them all fully. “We will treat those Deepgrounders we have among us with the respect due any human being. We will make allowances on the little things, but be sure they understand the overall requirements for good behavior—no raping, murdering, stealing, and all—and punish them as if they were our own for any infractions. They are our own, no matter how they have been treated up to now.”

Sephiroth nodded. “Just be sure you tell Weiss your intentions. Especially if any punishments must be dealt.”

Reeve sighed. “We cannot currently risk letting them out en masse, not this close to the battle. But when this is done—or if, Gaia help us, we start to lose—I want them to have the option. In the first case, because it’s the right thing to do. In the second…well, maybe they will be able to turn the tide back in our favor. Besides,” he turned back to the sprawling defenses, head tilted up to the sky. “It’s too sad to think of them waiting in darkness to die, never even seeing the sun.”

Sephiroth glanced at Andrews, who shrugged slightly. Their commander was a soft man, a deeply good man, and even what could have been a cold-blooded scheme to use every last resource to ensure their victory…wasn’t. It was strange to deal with the head of monolithic Shinra and not find an impeccably groomed monster with ice water in his veins and a lump of cold stone where his heart should be. Even dealing with Deepground was dangerous, and Reeve was obviously aware of it, and of the responsibilities he had to the people of Midgar. But he was also a moral person who could not fail to do what he thought was right.

He’d probably been miserable in the bad old days of institutionalized cruelty.

O’Dell cleared his throat, none too covertly changing the subject. “So, how is the troop training going?”

Sephiroth smiled a little, thinking inevitably of Cloud and the few moments they had managed to steal for themselves amid the preparations. “Well. Every unit has at least a little knowledge on how to handle Jenova and her monsters, which means they’re fairly confident. Morale is high. Cloud’s group seems to be just about done with the truly intense training. I believe he intended to run them ragged through tonight, and then begin recuperating tomorrow. The other SOLDIERs have been practicing as well, though obviously not so exhaustively.”

“As have the Regulars,” O’Dell offered. “And the Militias. I’m actually rather impressed with how well the Militias are coming along. I suppose that, since most of them were started by AVALANCHE members, it stands to reason that they would be formidable, given sufficient time and motivation.”

“All these weeks of practicing together against monsters is paying off,” Andrews added.

“Good. What is the status of Project Pink?”

Sephiroth sighed. “No last-minute breakthroughs. I understand Tseng has been looking into some leads personally, and Reno’s trying to get a straight answer out of the Lifestream, but so far? Nothing. And as of tomorrow, Project Pink staff will be halved, to integrate those men into the defense plan. The other half will be assigned to guard Pink HQ.” It was risky to keep so many men away from the front, but the secrets contained in the safes at Pink HQ were simply too important to take even the smallest chance that Jenova might somehow obtain them. Knowing this, Reeve made a small unhappy-but-resigned sound in his throat. Sephiroth was quick to offer some good news though, glad that he had some.

“If there is no threat on that side of Midgar, the bunker in which Pink HQ is located will be used as a hospital during the battle. Basic medical supplies are plentiful. While we haven’t the experienced doctors to make best use of them, many SOLDIERs are cross-trained in medicine, and the collective experience of the Regulars, Militiamen, and private citizens means at least our men won’t be dying of stupid little things. I hear also that Mr. Valentine is up and about. He’s apparently still a little disoriented, but the loss of his Jenova cells seems to be having little adverse effect on him. He should be able to participate in the battle, if he so desires.”

“Excellent,” Reeve said, sounding pleased, then shooting a mischievous look over at Sephiroth. “Speaking of hearing things, I have heard of some strange rumors coming from the troops. Something about you and Cloud eloping? Oh, and another about you laying one on him in the middle of a training session and Tifa blowing up in jealous rage and announcing to all and sundry that she’s carrying his love-child. Most peculiar.”

Sephiroth heard Andrews snort, half choking on barely suppressed laughter, and felt O’Dell’s eyes settle on his back. He felt heat crawl up his cheeks, but kept his face neutral. “Oh? I suppose there are benefits to having a TURK for your primary aide. My favorite rumor is the one where Yuffie firebombed the Great Pagoda because her father would not give his blessing on her marriage to Elena.” Previously quietly working her way through a stack of paperwork in the shade of a nearby tent, Elena spluttered a protest.

“Yuffie would never! If anyone’s going to set fire to that eyesore, it’s gonna be me, dammit!”

Reeve turned to shoot a scandalized look at the petite blonde, who was playing with one of the grenades stashed under her coat with the manic focus of a pyromaniac. The girl colored and released the weapon. “Elena, please try not to say such things—one never knows where Wutai has its spies. It would never do to say something to upset old, cantankerous Godo.”

Elena blinked, then giggled, returning to her paperwork. Reeve smiled fondly at her, then turned and pinned Sephiroth with a surprisingly formidable glare. The executive leaned very close to him, his voice a mere whisper. “Understand that if you hurt him, I have no problem abusing my position most atrociously to hunt you down and make you suffer for it. He’s had enough pain in his life already.”

Sephiroth nodded. “I understand your concerns, but I assure you—Cloud is in no danger from me. I regret having been the source of much of his pain previously, but intend to do all I can to make up for it.”

Reeve nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Good.” He offered Sephiroth a sheepish look. “I didn’t really think you were out to hurt him, but his heart’s his only weak spot, these days. Best to protect it whenever possible.” The interim President stepped away, raising his voice a bit. “Now that business has been taken care of, I suggest we all go back to our duties. And if anyone could convince Cloud to take a little time off before Jenova’s likely to get here, that would be great.”

Sephiroth glanced at Andrews. “Well,” the other man said. “I could order him to take some time, though he might not listen. Apparently, he’s used to obeying his own rules.”

Sephiroth smiled just a little. “I will see if I can…convince him to relax. For a few hours, at least.” He gave Reeve his best emotionlessness-meets-innocence expression. “We certainly do not want him to overexert himself before the battle.”

“Then maybe we should keep him away from you…” Andrews muttered, lips twitching. Sephiroth upped the amplitude on his expression, trying to channel a little bit of Zack to attain that perfect confused ‘who, me?’ look that had gotten his friend out of more trouble than Sephiroth cared to think on.

Reeve blinked at him, then laughed. “Your personal attention to this matter is appreciated, General. I’m sure Cloud will appreciate it, too.”

Sephiroth smirked. Yeah, Reeve was a much better man to serve than any Shinra had ever been. Now he just had to wait until tomorrow to convince Cloud to take a little bit of R&R…

The sky was still dark, the only light in the tent coming from Cloud’s glowing blue eyes. The light was enough for him to see by as he quietly wiped a damp washcloth over his body to get the worst of the stink off—the familiar dirt and sweat and musk smells would return soon enough, but there was no need to be stinky yet. He pushed damp fingers through his hair, tying the wild shoulder-length locks back whether or not they were neat. He was well used to the lost cause that was his unruly hair. Then he used the tiny glass mirror to quickly shave and brush his teeth.

As clean as he was going to get, he strapped on his back-up knife and pulled on his fresh, clean uniform. It was one of Zack’s, since Cloud was really most comfortable in his dead friend’s clothes. (He wondered, sometimes, what that might say about him.) But unlike most of Zack’s, this wasn’t the old, worn version that was faded practically to lavender, ripped and threadbare from years of abuse and washing and a few trips around the world. No, this was one of the black, formal issue uniforms for SOLDIERs First Class. It was a teeny bit outdated in style, but not noticeably to anyone who wasn’t actively looking for it. The embroidered silver moons of Cloud’s rank seemed out of place, if only because Cloud had spent time personally, laboriously removing Zack’s twin planets.

The soft but durable cloth whispered over his skin, followed by the stiff, matte black leather of the belts and suspenders, boots and gloves. Cloud had been wearing the gloves and boots for this uniform—the SOLDIER battle uniform—since they’d been issued, trying to break in the leather. Despite his best efforts, the leather was obviously less worn than that of his custom weapon harness. Even SOLDIER’s harnesses weren’t designed for a monster like Ultima Weapon, so Cloud was using his own custom made harness that had traveled with him through much of the trip to save the world. The well-tended but obviously well-used leather was a contrast to his new finery, but Cloud found the combination of new and old soothing, especially once he added his Materia-laden Mystile.

Staring at himself in the small mirror, Cloud felt something was missing. It wasn’t something major—he was clean, dressed, armed, and armored—but he still hesitated a moment before considering his pre-dawn preparations complete. He pulled out the small jewelry box he’d found in his room. He’d left most of his and Zack’s belongings up at the house, but he’d brought a few of them in this little box, which he now rooted around in, letting his eyes play over the items, hoping he’d know what was missing when he saw it.

The first thing that jumped out at him was a pair of Zack’s old earrings. Simple silver studs, Cloud remembered them as some of the older SOLDIER’s most common accessories. Cloud had all kinds of accessories himself (his ribbon was tied around his arm even now), but these were special because they were Zack’s, and now on the eve of battle, Cloud wanted to feel close to his lost friend. He put the earrings in, wincing a little—the backs of the holes had started to close up from not wearing anything in them since Galen reabsorbed his mini Holy Materia.

The other item that demanded he put it on was a long, soft chocobo feather hair ornament of the type worn by Wutaian warriors. It was a gold color even richer than his hair, black designs—characters, actually—painstakingly painted onto the surface. He didn’t read Wutaian, but the simple, flowing shapes of the written language appealed to his aesthetic sense. A leather thong and some blood-red beads secured the feather in his hair between his eye and his ear on the right side where it joined his hair in framing his face. If he put it on the left, it would oppose the natural flow of his hair, and since he had a better chance of beating Jenova single-handedly than of making his hair do anything it didn’t want to do on its own…

As he studied the final effect in the tiny piece of glass, feeling a niggling sense of deja vu, a pair of strong arms enfolded him from behind. Cloud sighed softly and leaned back against Sephiroth’s chest as the older man nuzzled his throat, nosing aside the feather and drawing Cloud’s earlobe into his mouth, piercing and all. Cloud shivered after a moment, drawing a little distance away. He was acutely aware of how little time they had left before they were due to report to their posts and how much Sephiroth’s touch made him want to go back to bed and never leave.

Sephiroth chuckled softly in his ear. “All ready, Cloud?”

Cloud nodded slowly, shifting slightly so he could watch Sephiroth’s face in the mirror. “Think so.”

Sephiroth smiled a little, soft green eyes sliding halfway open. “Good. Soon, we’ll be free of her so we can go on living our lives.”

Cloud frowned. “But the Others…”

Sephiroth frowned too. “Don’t worry about them. Focus on now. Focus on your hopes. We’ll pull through. And then I’ll be able to go back to taking you in a real bed.”

Cloud stuck out his tongue at Sephiroth’s gently teasing tone. “You’re just bitter because your feet stick off the end of the cot.”

“Damn straight.” He grew solemn again. “You’ll be careful.” It wasn’t a question—it was an order, a plea from a man who never begged for anything. Cloud nodded slowly.

“As much as I can be.” He grimaced at Sephiroth’s frustrated expression. “Sorry, but I’ll do what I have to do.”

Sephiroth scowled fiercely momentarily, but the expression quickly cleared into rueful acceptance. “I suppose you would not be you if you didn’t give me heart attacks.”

Cloud smirked. “You know you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

“I’ll take you whatever way I can get you,” Sephiroth responded, not meeting Cloud’s eyes in the mirror and holding possessively tight to him. “Just come back to me when all this is through.”

Cloud frowned and turned in his lover’s arms, lifting a hand to sweep some of Sephiroth’s long hair from his face so he could look him in the eyes, unobstructed. “Hey. I thought you were the one reassuring me. Gotta stick to the script, Seph.”

“Script, huh?” Sephiroth asked, and Cloud nodded.

“Yep. Says so right there before the dramatic climax—the handsome general reassures his dashing young lover that everything’s gonna be okay. Whereupon the dashing young lover reminds the handsome general that he’s fought before and even saved the world once. The handsome general is a little embarrassed, but doesn’t let go of the dashing young lover, which is okay. Because, whatever he may say, the dashing young lover is still nervous and in need of reassurance.”

Sephiroth smirked. “Well, the details need some work, but the plot has promise. I wonder who they’ll cast in our roles when the movie comes out.”

Cloud giggled. “Maybe we’ll retire from soldiering to play ourselves.”

Sephiroth laughed. “Better not mention that to Colonel Andrews. I think he’d be most upset if you up and left the military. He’s fond of you—everyone is.” Sephiroth smiled softly at him, stroking his cheek. “You just have that effect on people.”

Cloud shrugged a little, uncomfortable with having that particular fact pointed out. He knew he’d been treated differently from others practically since he’d set foot in Midgar. Well, he’d been treated differently in Nibelheim, too, but he tried not to think of his childhood. Memories were precious, yes, but those would only drag him down. But ever since coming to Midgar, he’d had two of the greatest SOLDIERs in Shinra looking after him. Zack had bent over backwards to make friends with him, while he was at a point in his life at which he trusted very few people. And Sephiroth…well, that hardly needed explanation. Cloud didn’t really see what they saw in him. Oh, sure, now he was strong and fast and a good fighter, but then? He’d just been a jumpy, sullen wash-out from hickville.

But they had seen something in him, and Cloud would always be grateful. There were things he could have done without—Sephiroth going mad, Hojo’s experiments, Zack’s death, and so on—but mostly he was just happy to be here. Now. Holding his lover while the sky lightened to the color of graphite, and dressed for war.

And speaking of being dressed… “Shouldn’t you be going back to your tent now? Getting ready?”

Sephiroth tugged lightly on the feather in his hair, bright Mako eyes casting strange shadows on his face. “Yes, I should, but…” He tilted his head to rest his cheek on Cloud’s wild hair. “Just one more minute.”

How could Cloud say no to that? Sephiroth was so nice and warm, all that hard muscle and soft skin folded around him, cool hair falling around them like a curtain. It was only one more minute. Just one last moment of peace before the battle.

Cloud looped his arms around Sephiroth’s shoulders and listened to the quiet synchrony of their hearts beating.

Hi, again!

Hope everyone liked this chapter. The first few incarnations I hated, but now I think I kind of like it. A lot gets done, a lot that needed to be done, and I think I managed not to go overboard with data-dump. I hope. I know it’s a problem of mine…

Anyway, keep those reviews rolling in! I have to bribe my creative impulses away from DMC (which I love, despite its shameless corniness). All help toward that end is appreciated. I also have yet another FFVII fic brewing in the back of my head, though I want to finish this before I go haring off into yet another epic project… With my luck, I’d get the worlds mixed up!

So! Comments and questions gratefully accepted. I’ll even try to answer questions, for once, in messages and replies to reviews. (There’ve been a lot of really good questions, lately.) Love ya all!

--Akuma no Tsubasa