Contrary to evidence, I am not, in fact, the slowest person to update in the world. I promise. But I still love you! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and that it was worth the wait! Chapter two has also undergone a complete rewrite, and is now quite worthy of extra attention.

Koni

•••

‘Someplace deserted, quiet,’ they’d told Selphie, and it seemed she’d taken their instructions and ran with them. The ride in this tiny airship was going to be a few hours long, with nothing for them to do but sit and brood over what was about to happen. Cid sat in the cockpit next to Selphie, asking her questions about this and that, drilling her on the smaller aircraft she called ‘her baby’ and the larger one they were riding in now. If Cid didn’t have blue prints of all this drawn up two hours after they got home, Cloud would eat his boots.

After they got home, Cloud told himself, examining the possibility of being left out of that group. The confusing mathematics of necessity and emotion had led him to a few painful conclusions. When they go back without me.

If this all worked out for the best, Sephiroth could not possibly go back to Midgar, or any place else familiar. Too many people recognized him - as Shira’s great general, if not as the man who had attempted to destroy the world. Spontaneous resurrection, whether or not a person had been actually, technically dead, was not an easy thing to explain. And, away from the logic and justifications, there was too much hurt lingering in every place. Each continent, each city, each town, each person had been touched, somehow, by Jenova’s actions and the things she’d made Sephiroth do.

How could Cloud force him to live through that, after forcing him to live?

They might not be able to go back, he considered, and felt greedy.

As much as he couldn’t curse Sephiroth to live among the people he’d wronged, he couldn’t curse Tifa to live without Marlene or Barret, Cid to live without Shera. Vincent, who had so little, needed what anchors he’d managed to cast out for himself.

It’ll all work out, Zack said, somehow. You’re doing a good thing here, Spike. One of the best. You’re five good people for the price of one, sometimes.

I’m selfish.

And I’m a moogle.

“…kupo.”

Irvine turned around in his seat to quirk an eyebrow up, but Cloud ignored him. They already thought he was seven kinds of crazy – making random moogle noises at the man in his head could hardly hurt his reputation now. Irvine turned back around without gaining any explanation.

Cloud looked over the rest of the passenger cabin inhabitants. Vincent lingered at the edges, near the door to the cockpit. The SeeDs lingered together, whispering amongst themselves. It was Seifer and Tifa who held his interest, tucked in the back like teenagers at a movie, whispering with their heads bent together.

She must reaaaally like blonds.

Shut up.

He’d come, since his first disastrous meeting with the man, to disregard and ignore Seifer. There were bigger things to worry about than a bully desperate to prove himself. Cloud just hadn’t counted on Seifer turning to Tifa for that validation, and certainly hadn’t counted on it going any deeper than that. But the way she rested a casual hand on his thigh spoke of a blossoming familiarity. Tifa did not touch without affection, at least not when bones weren’t being broken.

But she was a big girl, a woman more than capable of making her own decisions. Cloud had no right to deny her happiness just because he couldn’t give it to her. But some childish part of him felt belligerent; Tifa, in a way, had always been his. His since he’d bound her to him with a foolish impulse, his since her father had beaten him for her mistake.

If she left him, separated by worlds and the pedestal she no longer placed him on, who could he fall back on?

Try falling back on yourself, for once. Zack sounded annoyed. And stop it with the crazy thoughts. We’re going to get your love monkey back, right?

That certainly pulled Cloud out of his dark thoughts.

Did you just call Sephiroth my ‘love monkey’? he demanded, very careful to keep the conversation strictly mental.

Seemed an accurate description. And I think he’d object to bitch, so.

You think this is going to work.

If Zack had possessed a body at that point, he would have grinned ruefully and slouched down lower in his chair. I think it has to, at this point. Since your dying, as we have discussed, is not an option, there is no Plan B.

The universe isn’t going to rearrange just because you’re optimistic at it.

Worked for Aeris, didn’t it? Zack gave off the mental impression of a broad, affectionate grin. And don’t tell me you’re not doing the same exact thing. Right now. This tops the list of crazy shit you’ve done.

Cloud turned his face to the matte steel walls, though trying to hide from Zack was an obvious exercise in futility. Maybe.

And I love you for it. And Aeris loves you for it. And he’s going to love you for it. You won’t know what to do with all the love.

Something he’d searched for his entire life – acceptance. Why was he so cautious when it was finally in his reach again?

•••

Seifer wasn’t terribly big on devotion, not anymore. He kept remembering the things his urge to protect and shield had driven him to. All of his sanity shied away from an encore of that. Not that he’d ever admit toregretting what he’d done – never. He’d fulfilled his dream, come hell or high water, and no matter how it turned out in the end. Leonhart and his lackeys never, ever needed to know how much Seifer’s guilt hurt.

Devotion in others…that was getting nearly as bad. He couldn’t look at Rai and Fuu without thinking of what he’d almost done to them. His dream, his mistakes to make, but almost Gung Ho Lackeying them right to their doom ranked pretty high on the top of his list of dumb shit things. He’d tried to leave them behind; Fuu wouldn’t have any of it, and Rai budged even less than that.

They could have a life, if they let themselves. What they’d done to keep Seifer close enough to alive and well was definitely overshadowed by the deeds of Seifer himself. Even if they didn’t want to stay with SeeD – and he had a sneaking suspicion they liked it there, no matter what they said to appease him – Fuu knew her way in the world and Rai wasn’t half as dumb as he could come across sometimes.

Fuu and Rai were potential, the future Seifer lacked.

Not that spending the rest of his life dicking around Fishermen’s Horizon sounded like abad prospect, he just knew it would drive his self-proclaimed sidekicks loopy. The last thing this world needed was a bored Fuu. Seifer was doing a lot of life re-examining, and fistfights were factoring into his desired future less and less. Fishing and peace would keep him happy for the rest of his life, after everything, but them…probably not so much.

“What are you thinking about?” Tifa asked.

And Tifa. Miss Lockheart. She of the big pretty eyes and the beautiful body and the strength to snap spines in her finely shaped hands. Seifer couldn’t lie to himself and say he wasn’t more than half in love with her, in the way of crowbar-to-the-temple desire. She smiled at him without reservation, and listened to him, and didn’t judge, and was gentle, sure, and strong.

“I’m not even sure anymore,” Seifer admitted. “My mind’s kind of running itself in circles.”

“They have a tendency to do that, I’m afraid.” She titled her head, gave him a slightly strained smile. “Talking might help?”

Might it? He’d gotten so used to keeping his mouth shut. You didn’t exactly go around yapping all your secrets in SeeD, unless you could gain something from it. Telling Squall – Leonhart - about his aspirations to be a Knight had been a moment of unfortunate fool headedness, brought on by arrogance and the headiness of having his rival and his goal so close.

Being an emotionally sharing person had never been big on Seifer’s list of life goals. But, hell, Tifa had a way with the soulful looks, and maybe if no one else knew what they were talking about, she did.

“Just wondering what I’m going to do after this,” he said, trying to lump his mental ramblings into something coherent. “Maybe I should go help Rinoa in Timber, but I’m done with politics. Rinoa’s a sweet girl, but she still knows how to use people to get what she wants, and I’m sick and fucking tired of fighting other people’s battles.”

“Have you ever tried fighting your own?”

Seifer snorted, looked anywhere that wasn’t Tifa. “You know how that turned out.”

She put a hand on his leg, just above his knee, and bits of him took a quiet moment to appreciate just how warm her palm was, even through gloves and pants.

“That wasn’t your battle,” she said, decisive and firm. “And even if it was then, it isn’t now. I think you know better, right?”

“That’s probably up for debate.”

“Have a little more self confidence.”

He stared at her for a hard moment, refusing to believe that she said that in all seriousness. Finally, he smiled at her – a true, deeply amused smile that felt too long in coming.

“Well, that’s one thing I’ve never been told before,” he said. Then, without quite knowing why, he blurted, “I want to be normal. I want a job that doesn’t involve killing people, and a place to go home to that isn’t a hotel, and I don’t want people like Leonhart looking at me like I’m social experiment gone horrifically awry.”

She leaned into him, bringing them shoulder to shoulder. He could smell the clean soap scent of her hair.

“That’s not too much to ask,” she said. “Maybe we can work on that.”

And if he saw little gears turning in Tifa Lockheart’s pretty, brilliant head, he didn’t say anything to stop them.

•••

Cloud stepped off the airship onto a very innocuous looking stretch of dry, scratchy shrub land. With the seasons stretching into what he could only assume was autumn, the air was cool and dry. The sun hung overhead, a far away crystal of light in a blue-gray sky.

Cloud felt very, very claustrophobic. His heart fluttered almost spasmodically in his chest, a mixture of terror and need. He feared Jenova more than he feared anything else, because she called to him so sweetly. One wrong move, one misstep, and he could very well be joining Sephiroth in the nothingness that surrounded a puppet.

I have to do this. No matter what happens, if we die, I have to end this before she can make anyone else suffer.

It wasn’t just about saving Sephiroth, or getting his lover back, or even about his own personal peace. Jenova wouldn’t stop – probably didn’t know how to stop – until she destroyed everything worthwhile in the world. In any world, whatever world she could tear apart and consume.

He might not particularly like Leonhart, but the SeeDs hadn’t saved this world to watch it die all over again. They’d done enough, didn’t have to pay for Cloud’s weaknesses and mistakes. No matter what their career choices said about their maturity, no one that young deserved to have their lives ripped apart twice.

Cloud knew that much first hand.

Turning to face the group behind him, Cloud tried not to be surprised when Leonhart came to stand beside him. He wondered what sort of picture they made, a young man and a younger one, hard eyed and deadly.

Leonhart put one hand on a hip, eyed his team and Cloud’s friends critically.

“Stay together,” he said. “Groups of two, at least, three if you can manage. Watch your backs and be careful.” He focused his attention on his SeeDs. “Don’t risk your lives for this. It’s a noncritical mission, at the moment.”

“You don’t have to be here,” Cloud reminded him dully.

“And yet I am anyway,” Leonhart snapped. “Do whatever it is you’re doing.”

Tapping into magic of any sort had gotten easier with Siren in his head. Having to communicate with her on a semi-regular basis about spells, junctioning, and how very much she wasn’t allowed to gnaw on what few memories he still possessed, Cloud had become very used to sorting through his own mental space. Digging into the little dark space that housed his link with Sephiroth and stank, somehow, of the Jenova taint, was easier than it had been.

I’m here, he told them, sending promise with his words. And I’m waiting. Come find me. Please, he did not add.

“I hope this works,” Cid muttered.

Cloud opened his eyes. “It will,” he said. “I can feel them.”

He could feelJenova ripping into the Lifestream of this planet, ignoring the pained cries of the dead there. He knew, with sudden, disgusted clarity, how she created the mutants she’d been fighting them with. She forced open the tiniest well of contaminated Lifestream, and then waited for any living creature to stumble upon it. Human, cat, dragon, it didn’t matter – she caught it in her sickly green threads and warped it to her needs. The only power she had left to her, and she was using it to its full advantage.

Now, as Sephiroth approached their location with all of his speed – which still gave them time to wait – Jenova tore open larger wells, very close to them. In a deserted area such as this, no humans would stumble into the traps – thank whatever gods might watch this planet for that – but monsters changed became monsters twice as dangerous.

Cloud felt it when one of those creatures finished the gruesome shift and caught his scent. He drew his sword and turned, the others taking that as a signal to ready themselves as well. Siren came alive in his mind, swirling down pathways, trailing magic in her wake. He couldn’t quite bring himself to be surprised when half-melted frost crept up the blade, coating it in water and ice.

A once-wolf, rangy and fierce, appeared on the horizon, and Cloud could sense the rest of the pack not far behind. Giving the Ultima Weapon an anticipatory spin, Cloud hefted it in front of him and ran toward the creature at speeds he knew the others couldn’t follow. Knew, and didn’t quite care.

This was still his battle, no matter what they insisted.

•••

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Cid growled. “Just so you know.”

“He thinks he’s protecting us,” Vincent said.

Cid shook his head. “His head’s never gonna be on right. You can keep up with him. Go after him, watch his back.”

Vincent almost, almost questioned the order Cid gave out so casually. He knew better than to ask who would watch Cid’s back; Cid considered himself more than capable of taking care of himself, though he thought the exact opposite of everyone else. And Cid wasn’t the one in the most danger here. Nodding to his partner, Vincent took off after Cloud, quickly gaining on him.

Pulling the Death Penalty from its holster, he took aim at one of the creatures lopping toward them. A bullet took the distorted wolf clean through one of its three eyes, but it kept running toward them.

“The heart!” Cloud shouted, not seeming at all surprised at his new backup. “It’s their weak point.”

Vincent blew open the chest of his target, and was gratified when it dropped to the ground. The others, however, took some sort of hint, and hunkered lower to obscure his line of sight to their vulnerable places. Biting back a sigh of frustration and disappointment, Vincent returned his favorite gun to its holster and turned instead to the Quicksilver he kept at his belt. He didn’t particularly prefer close range battle, but he didn’t balk at it.

Cloud descended upon the monsters like a god of battle, beheading one before cracking its chest messily in two with his sword. While Vincent had only briefly seen Cloud fighting with the two knives Leonhart had initially permitted, he secretly thought they suited him better than the large sword he favored. Cloud encumbered by the considerable weight of the Ultima Weapon was fast, but with the smaller weapons he nearly too quick for Vincent’s eyes to follow.

A speed only Sephiroth could match.

Rolling to meet one of the wolves, Vincent delivered a strong kick to its jaw, then grabbed its muzzle with his metal hand. Jerking it upright, he pounded three bullets into its chest before breaking its neck with a jerk and tossing it aside to die. Another came at him from the side, clamped its jaws around the wrong arm. Teeth cracked on metal, and Vincent kneed it away to spin and shoot the monster launching itself at his back.

Cloud shoved his sword through the final wolf, but did not sheath the weapon.

“Dragon,” he said to Vincent, and then looked over his shoulder and shouted it at the others – they were only just catching up to them.

Vincent realized, a bit distantly, that the battle couldn’t have taken more than three minutes. Something dark stirred in the corners of his mind, but he shut Chaos away – at least for now. The monsters, despite being a nuisance when it came to convincing people that he was as human as he strove to be, were an asset in battle. Loathe as he was to admit it, he’d be foolish to deny their usefulness.

“Fucking great,” Irvine shouted, over the enraged roar of a dragon that had quite obviously come out a little worse for the wear from its tumble into the Lifestream.

Its wings seemed unable to support its increased body mass, and it pulled itself along the ground with a painful, uneven gait that was faster than it should have been. Spines bristled all over its hide, the bases leaking bright green mako and sickly red blood. A split tongue lolled out of an open mouth, the jaw forced by the multitude of teeth to hang gaping and dripping.

“Doesn’t look so bad,” Zell said.

Vincent would have chastised him, or at least glared, but he was already in a defensive position, attack magic crackling around him.

The SeeDs, he reminded himself, knew what they were doing.

•••

The beasts did not like being changed. They resisted it, twisting and tearing at Mother’s presence in their mind, the Lifestream in their bodies. Sephiroth cared nothing for their pain, nothing for their lives. This batch required no finesse, no deadly strength – they were a distraction, a delay tactic.

Cloud had called.

Cloud wanted this to end, and it would. But it would end in Mother’s favor, not in the way the little-not-Soldier thought he wanted. He didn’t know what was best, Mother hadn’t told him, he was confused.

Sephiroth knew how much confusion hurt. Knew that Cloud did not realize they were here to help, to set things right, as they should be. Once, once, he had not known Mother’s voice and Mother’s wisdom –

And –

There had been other wisdoms.

Lesser ones, Mother hissed, dragging pain through his skin in warning. Sephiroth barely twitched, more than used to his punishments. Harder and harder, these days, to govern his thoughts. Thinks kept seeping in from beyond the edges, little painful memories, and he tried very, very hard to forget them but.

He would get Cloud, and Mother would have them both, and things would be okay andright again. The humans, the bugs, the unworthy, would stop interfering and he would rule over this planet as he should have ruled over the first. No one could steal his birthright. Nothing and no one.

Not even the memory of violet eyes and a ready smile, not even the twisted pain of Cloud’s mind. Nothing would bring the smiling man back, and Mother could set things right. Only Mother could set things right. She would heal, would fix.

His feet touched down on Cloud’s chosen battlefield, leather boots making no sound on the dry grass. The no-longer-a-dragon crumpled beneath the dragon-man’s spear, and Sephiroth sneered at the idea of something so hideously mundane taking down one of Mother’s creation, even a sick, stunted one.

They slipped into Cloud’s mind like sword into sheath. The familiar dark corners and shielded light places, the missing pieces. Sephiroth knew them all, had remembered and studied them in the hours he might have, once, spent sleeping.

Little brother,he-she crooned, and some part of him knew, with a twist of feeling, that that wasn’t the right thing to call him.

Sephiroth, Cloud responded, cool and calm.

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, abandoning the half sight of the mako pathways for the physical world. Cloud walked toward him, the air around him sparking with some foreign power that tasted like ice in the back of Sephiroth’s throat. The others – cowards, useless, all of them – stood behind, hands on their weapons. They knew they could do nothing, they remained behind while Cloud walked to the place where he belonged.

This is going to hurt, a different voice, the violet eyed voice, said.

Cloud continued the thought with the voice, we’re sorry.

Mother shrieked angrily in his mind, tried to surge forward to bring Cloud the pain they knew he hated. Something cut her off, something large and shining and powerful, with the wings of a bird and the chilling, deadly voice of a beautiful woman.

And then the bird woman curled back, and Cloud hurtled forward, physically and along the mental paths Sephiroth traveled so deftly.

A hand clasped in his hair and lips crashed up into his at the same moment screaming white-green pain enveloped him.