Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Plot Synopsis: Genesis awakens, redeemed in the eyes of his Goddess, and is freed from his long slumber. His awakening stirs another. Sephiroth/Genesis. Sephiroth's POV(mostly).

Author's Note: This chapter: Tifa makes her first appearance, while old friends are reunited. In other words, more plot. Kudos to my wonderful, most patient beta, Littlehouseinthewoods, who has to constantly remind me to be active. Thanks, LH =) And to all of my reviewers, I want to thank you, as well. It's nice to know that someone out there likes what I do. Now, on with the show!

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Final Fantasy VII: Angelic Threnody

Chapter 61

'My friend, do you fly away now? To a world that abhors you and I? All that awaits you is a somber morrow, no matter where the winds may blow' -Loveless, ACT III

The party arrived at the Shinra Evacuation Center just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Sephiroth let out a silent sigh of relief and halted the party, giving them all a chance to catch their breath. It had been a long three days since leaving Lucrecia's grotto, especially since the first fall rains had made what should have been a fairly simple leg of their journey an uncomfortable one. The rain had stopped a few hours ago, but that didn't change the fact that they were all wet, tired, and cold.

He took a moment to study the relief camp that Tseng had set up along the banks of the Nibel River. Comprised of seven large, tent-like structures, it greatly resembled the military camps he had lived in during the war. The Shinra troopers who patrolled the perimeter only served to reinforce that impression. He was only grateful to note that there seemed to be no Deep Ground troops among them. Tseng had heeded their warnings in that, at least.

He spied several white-coated figures scurrying through the camp, and his gut tightened at the sight of them, an instinctive reaction to a lifetime spent at the mercy of such "people". He had to remind himself that Hojo was dead, and that these people were here to help the residents of Nibelheim. They were not a threat to him personally, nor would they become so without the good Professor's immoral influence. He would have to take care to keep them away from his remnants, however. He could well imagine the boys' reactions should they be approached, and he wanted no part of the bloodshed that would likely follow.

He had to admit that he was relieved to know that Tseng had followed through on his promises to remove Nibelheim's residents from the town proper. He honestly did not know what Jenova's physical capabilities might or might not be, but as she had once been able to take his form using only the headless remains of her Cetra body, he could not close his mind to the possibility of a physical confrontation. The safety of the Nibelheim's civilians was their top priority, and evacuating them had been the safest alternative. The Turks had done their part; it was time for Sephiroth to do his.

A large shadow fell over the party, and Sephiroth tilted his head back in automatic response. He was surprised to see Shinra's flagship, The Highwind, moored neared the banks of the river. He wondered why Rufus had sent it, but he didn't spare it much thought. If they needed the airship, they would simply take it. If not, it didn't matter. It was a mystery best left for another time. At the moment, they had other, more pressing matters to occupy them.

As though in response to his thoughts, Reno jogged up to his side, and Sephiroth suppressed a sigh. "Yes, Reno?"

"Tseng's coming out to meet us, yo," the younger man informed him. "He says that the army's still grumbling about the whole desertion thing, and he doesn't want to take any chances."

Sephiroth merely shrugged. "The army fears me, Reno."

"Yeah, yeah, you're badass, yo." Reno rolled his aquamarine eyes and added, "Just play along, alright. Tseng worries, and I don't want him having an embolism or something."

Sephiroth grunted at that. "Very well," he conceded in a clipped voice, though he was truly unable to imagine the unflappable leader of The Turks losing control in such a way.

He shifted, waiting with barely leashed impatience for Tseng to put in an appearance. They needed to eat, rest, and form a proper plan of attack before entering Nibelheim. Sephiroth knew that it would be he who enticed Jenova from the relative safety of the reactor, but he had yet to properly conceive how he would do so. There was also the matter of preparing the mako containment unit for the rigors of travel, something it had not been designed for. It would also need to be reinforced, both to keep Jenova secure within it and to stabilize it for the two-day trek to Rocket Town. And then came the question of what to do with Shinra Manor?

Sephiroth knew what he would like to do the mansion he had been born in. He wanted nothing more than to raze the building to its foundations, to watch it as it fell, brick by painful brick. Of course, burning it would be an easier—and much more practical—solution. Small fires, started in strategic points throughout the immense house, would probably be enough. And if they weren't. . .well, there was always Fire materia.

Unfortunately, Sephiroth couldn't imagine Tseng condoning such a thing. Shinra Manor held a wealth of secrets, for all that it had been abandoned. Tales of ghostly screams had long ago served to keep the townspeople away, and Shinra had reinforced those absurd rumors of the paranormal to assure that their secrets remained hidden.

Perhaps, The Turks could somehow be persuaded to look the other way. Sephiroth certainly could not leave Hojo's records—falsified or otherwise—behind for some other scientist to someday unearth. The Jenova Project would not be repeated.

No, he thought decisively, Shinra Manor could not spared. The place became a nightmare for all who entered it, and it must be destroyed.

Genesis stirred at his side, running a weary had through his travel-tousled hair. "It's about damned time," he mumbled, jerking his chin towards the south end of the camp. "You'd think Tseng could've gotten here a little faster."

"I'm sure that running this place takes a lot of his time, Genesis," Angeal told him with exasperation. "It's not like we've been waiting all that long."

"Hhmmmpphhh."

Sephiroth smiled but chose not to comment as he turned to watch the other man's approach. Tseng walked towards them with brisk, efficient steps, a dark-suited figure who looked out of place in the pristine countryside surrounding him. Reno's partner, Rude, was at his side, his sunglasses firmly in place despite the lateness of the hour. A tall, slender man clad in casual civilian clothing followed close behind the pair, and Sephiroth spied a large, rather ornate spear slung over one shoulder. A lit cigarette dangled from his free hand, and the sight of it stirred a flash of memory in Sephiroth's mind.

Yet another of Cloud's allies, Sephiroth thought with a sigh. At least, he had met this one before the disaster in Nibelheim. Cid Highwind was a highly skilled pilot, chosen by Shinra Inc. to be The Planet's first astronaut. Sephiroth knew that Rufus would contact him eventually—he had personally recommended him for Director of the Space Program—but he hadn't given the man much thought beyond that. He could only hope that Captain Highwind's hatred of him wouldn't be too intense, or this could quickly become a very unpleasant confrontation.

An excited shout was Sephiroth's only warning before Reno went barreling past him. He took a hasty step to his right, just barely avoiding a collision with the excited young Turk. He watched as Reno reached Tseng, gave him an atrociously sloppy salute, and began to chatter excitedly. He was fairly dancing around both men as they walked, and Sephiroth felt a pang of something that suspiciously resembled disappointment.

He was immediately appalled by the reaction. Yes, he had become fond of the brash young assassin, but they were not friends. He had fully expected Reno to return to Shinra, once they reached Nibelheim, and he was angry with himself for thinking—even for an instant—that the young Turk would do otherwise. He certainly had no right to be disappointed in Reno, who had only embarked on this journey because circumstances had forced him to.

He heard a low, melodic laugh and turned to find Genesis watching him with a sympathetic expression. "It's hard when they leave, isn't it?"

Sephiroth scowled, wishing that he could refute the other man's words, but Genesis knew him far too well. "It is ludicrous that I should feel this way," he grumbled. "Reno is a Turk."

The older man uttered a soft laugh and shifted closer. "I'm going to miss him, too, Seph."

"Hmph." Sephiroth grunted even as he put an arm around the other man's shoulders. Genesis slid an arm around his waist, and he relented with a sigh. "I cannot believe I am saying this but. . .you are right. I will miss him."

"Oh, Gods," Cloud groaned, dropping his face into his hands. "Do not let him hear you say that, Sephiroth!"

"Don't worry, Spike," Zack told him with a grin, "Seph's used to crazed fans hounding him, aren't you, Seph?

Angeal chuckled at the dark look Sephiroth aimed Zack's way as he added, "You might never get rid him if he knows you like him, Seph."

Kadaj snorted as he gazed after the man in question, who was currently gesturing lazily as he talked to his fellow Turks. "Reno's not going anywhere," he snapped waspishly. "Yazoo says he's not ready, yet."

"Yeah, Yaz says he's gonna be with us for a while," Loz agreed as he dropped to the grass below.

"He will," Yazoo confirmed, his gaze meeting and holding Sephiroth's own. "He hasn't done all he believes he needs to, yet."

Cissnei laughed softly at Sephiroth's look of consternation. "Don't worry, General. Reno will be around to stalk you for a long time."

Aerith joined in the laughter, even as she covered her mouth with her hand, muffling the happy sound. "I almost feel sorry for you, brother," she said jokingly.

Sephiroth frowned and promptly turned his back on them on them all. He crossed his arms over his chest and did his best to remind himself that they only teased him because they loved him. At that precise moment, the knowledge didn't help. He ignored their ribbing as he stepped forward to greet Tseng, calmed somewhat to see a similar expression of embarrassed exasperation on The Turk's normally inscrutable face.

Tseng came to a stop before him and offered a bow, not too deep, but not so shallow as to offer insult. "General Sephiroth," he greeted politely, turning to include the rest of the part in the bow. "Thank you, for watching over Reno for us. I trust that he wasn't too great a trial for you?"

"Aw, come on, Tseng!"

Sephiroth suppressed a smirk at Reno's indignant protest. "Not at all, Director. He has been of great assistance to me," he returned smoothly. "Thank you, for. . .lending him to us."

"Yeah, like that's something to be thankful for!" Cid Highwind snorted as he stepped forward and tossed his cigarette to the ground. His faded blue eyes ran over the group before settling on Cloud with something akin to relief. "It's about fucking time, kid."

Cloud's lips inched upwards in a genuine smile. "We got here as fast as we could, old man."

"Old man, my ass!" Cid sputtered indignantly. "Shera could've gotten here faster than you! Now, where's the damned vampire hidin'?"

Vincent sighed and stepped forward, the faint smile playing on his lips at odds with the dramatic sound. "I am not a vampire, Cid."

Cid snorted a second time, but he was grinning as he said, "Oh, yeah? Then, what's with the red eyes, the white-ass skin, and that coffin we pulled your skinny ass out of?"

Vincent lifted one sable brow in an unconsciously arrogant gesture. "Don't make me hurt you, Highwind."

"You, and what army, vamp?" Cid shot right back. He clapped Vincent on the shoulder and was surprised when the normally reticent gunman returned the friendly gesture. But, hell, he wasn't about to bitch. It was enough to see his friends again, even though one of them was hanging way in the back of the group, hiding behind some big SOLDIER-looking son of a bitch. "Damn it, woman, get your ass out here where I can see you! We ain't got all night, you know!"

Musical laughter filled the crisp evening air as Aerith gave Angeal's ass one final pat before stepping away from him. He was blushing—hard—but Zack was grinning, so she figured he'd forgive her for the temporary embarrassment. "Don't be so demanding, Cid," she called out as she hurried forward. "You're making everyone feel awfully sorry for Shera."

Cid sent a mock frown in her direction "Hey, now, watch your fucking mouth, girly. That's my wife-to-be you're talking about!"

"You proposed?" Aerith squealed with delight, ignoring both Cloud and Vincent as they said, "Again?"

"You're damned straight I did. I know a good fucking thing when I see it," Cid told them with a twinkle in his eye. "Now, c'mere, girl, and give me a godsdamned hug. It's been too fucking long since I seen ya!"

Aerith laughed again and threw her arms around him, not protesting when he lifted her off her feet. "It's good to see you too, Captain."

"Hell, girl, you know better than that," he scolded gently. "It's Cid, Aerith, and nothing else for you."

He set her back on her feet, and she smiled up at him fondly. "I've missed you too, Cid." She rose up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, laughing as he began to sputter and cough and curse with embarrassment. "I see you haven't lost your way with words."

"Well, shit." Cid scowled down at her before reaching for another cigarette. He brought it to his lips, lit it, and nailed Vincent under a suspiciously bright blue gaze. "So, Vince, are you gonna introduce me to your fucking kid, or what?"

"Of course," Vincent replied, his tone very dry as he stepped up to the challenge. He half-turned towards Sephiroth, his fine features softening with affection, and said, "Captain Cid Highwind, meet my son, Sephiroth."

Sephiroth flushed with pleasure at hearing Vincent call him, "son." He took a step forward and inclined his head once. "Captain Highwind, it is a pleasure to meet you," he said as politely as possible. "Cloud and Vincent speak very highly of you."

"Holy shit!" Cid muttered, half under his breath. He couldn't believe that he was fucking doing this! He was nowhere near as ready as he'd thought he'd be! He cleared his throat and tried to smile at the man he'd once helped kill, but he knew that he must have failed when the other man's expression hardened. "Uh, sorry, er, Sephiroth. It's, uh, good to finally. . .meet you."

Pale emerald eyes flickered as Sephiroth murmured, "Thank you, Captain Highwind." He turned and quickly introduced Genesis, Angeal, and Zack, as well as the boys, who were each very polite, and very restrained. He could feel their emotions through the bond they all shared, and much like him, they were uncomfortable being around yet another of Cloud's friends from before. This man had had a part in Sephiroth's second death, and a witness to the third. Yes, they would keep their distance, and Sephiroth would make sure that Cloud let them. They didn't deserve to suffer because of what he—and Mother—had done to them.

Aerith was smiling mischievously as she patted Tseng's arm in greeting. The leader of The Turks surprised everyone with the warmth of his smile as he stepped back and offered a very deep bow to Aerith Gainsborough. "Hello, Aerith," he greeted simply. "I hear that I owe you an apology."

His gaze flicked to the left side of her face, and she laughed as understanding came to her. "Reno's been busy," she commented wryly. "Not to worry, Tseng. Since I whopped you in the head with my staff when I was learning to use it, I think we're even."

Tseng blinked, processing the previously unknown information, and not the least bit surprised by the frown that General Hewley was directing his way. Reno had warned him, and Aerith Gainsborough simply had that effect on men. "It is good to know you do not hold it against me," he said at length. Especially, as it hasn't happened, yet.

Aerith laughed again and patted his arm lightly. "You'll get used to it, Tseng. I promise you."

"As you say." Tseng bowed a second time, and when he straightened, the smile was gone. "If you'll come with me, I'll take you to the Command Center."

Sephiroth raised one eyebrow even as he nodded his assent. "I see that you have successfully evacuated Nibelheim," he said as they began to walk. "Did you have any difficulty persuading Mayor Lockheart to do so?"

Tseng almost looked relieved at the blunt, swift shift to back to business. "Some," he answered. "He was most unhappy with your choice of mountain guides, among other things."

Sephiroth slanted a glance back at Cloud, whose expression betrayed what appeared to be resentment, and concluded that his childhood in Nibelheim had been far from happy. With a mentally ill mother, Sephiroth could only imagine how hard it had been for him. "What other things?" he asked at length, choosing not pursue what could be an embarrassing—and potentially painful—line of questioning for Cloud Strife.

"He did not believe that the recent increase in monster activity was great enough to warrant a full-scale evacuation," Tseng answered evenly. "It took quite some time to fully impress upon him the danger of the creature housed in the reactor."

"In other words, he was a stubborn son of a bitch," Cid inserted with disgust. "Greedy, too."

"Ah." Sephiroth kept his expression blank as they entered the camp, returning the half-hearted salutes he received from the men he had once led. "Reno tells me that there has been some. . .unrest within the ranks, as well?"

Tseng slanted him a veiled glance, his dark eyes unreadable. "Apparently, someone started a rumor that you had deserted, General, one which has been most difficult to quell. We were forced to reveal the truth behind your . . .mission to the general public."

Sephiroth raised one silver brow at that. "And what truth did you reveal, Director?" he asked in a dangerously soft voice.

"That you and your men were investigating the disappearance of your. . .brothers." Tseng paused briefly. "I believe that most were surprised to discover that you had brothers, General. I hadn't realized that in protecting your family's privacy, we had actually concealed their existence from the world. It was quite a shock, I must say."

Sephiroth choked back a start of laughter at the senior Turk's bland tone. "I'm sure," he returned mildly.

Genesis snorted from his place at Sephiroth's side. "They're going to be even more surprised when they hear Sephiroth's brothers refer to him 'Father'," he inserted spiritedly.

One corner of Tseng's mouth twitched tellingly. "I believe you may be right, General Rhapsodos."

"Oh, brother," Kadaj muttered, marching up between the two men and seizing Sephiroth's hand—his sword hand. "It's getting thick in here, Sephiroth. Shouldn't we be wearing waders for this?"

Sephiroth shot him an exasperated look and quelled an urge to retrieve his hand, ignoring Genesis' laughter as he focused his attention on the youngest of his remnants. "As good as you are at dissemination, I would have thought that you would be quite in your element here, Kadaj."

"Ha, ha, very funny," the young remnant snapped in a tone that said he was far from pleased. "And, yeah, since I am good at lying, you guys should leave it to me! The Turk's story has so many holes in it that Cissnei could shoot through them."

"Hey!" Loz protested, and Kadaj waved his outrage away with an imperious hand. "I know it's not Cissnei's fault that she can't shoot straight, Loz. That's why she chose a Shuriken and not a gun, right?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Then, drop it," he ordered sternly. "Sister knows I'm not serious. Right, Cissnei?"

"I got the joke, kid," Cissnei assured him dryly. "Your brother just thinks it's his job to protect me."

"Yeah, like you can't protect yourself," Kadaj snorted derisively. "You're a Turk, for Gaia's sake!"

Sephiroth uttered a quiet sigh and squeezed the boy's hand. "Kadaj, you wanted my attention, and now you have it," he told him evenly. "What do you need?"

"Nii-san's mother," Kadaj answered promptly, showing not a drop of remorse for his actions. "He's worried about her, and we haven't seen her yet."

"Of course." He turned to Tseng with an inquiring expression, only to be met with the faintest of frowns. "Is there a problem, Director?"

"Mrs. Strife is here, but I fear that she became rather violent with my men, and we were forced to. . .restrain her."

Cloud slipped through the party quickly, his heart skipping a beat at those careful words. "Restrain her, now?" he demanded, grabbing The Turk's arm and pulling him to a stop. "If you've hurt her. . ."

Tseng looked down at that hand, gloved and not especially large, with surprise. Cloud Strife was much stronger than he looked. "You mother has not been harmed," he assured the young warrior, pulling his arm free with as much dignity as possible. "We were forced to sedate her after she gave an infantryman a concussion with a fireplace poker. She is resting now, though I felt it best to isolate her to avoid further. . .incidents."

Vivid cerulean eyes narrowed on Tseng's, anger flashing through their mako-bright depths. "Where?"

"She's on the north side of the camp," Rude surprised him by answering. "I can take you there. Reno?"

"I'm with you, yo."

Cloud gazed at the quiet Turk for a long moment before nodding curtly. He held one hand out to Kadaj, who immediately left Sephiroth's side to take it, and turned away. Yazoo gazed after them for a few moments before stepping away from Vincent and following. He slid a sidelong glance at Tseng as he passed, the look in his pale green eyes one of speculation, and then he too was gone.

Loz looked after them with a confused expression, obviously unsure as to what he should do, and Sephiroth released another sigh. "If you wish, you may go with your brothers, Loz."

The oldest remnant hesitated and asked, "You'll take care of Cissnei?"

"Of course, we will," Zack told him with a pump of his arm. "We've got your back, big guy!"

Genesis ignored him and sent the oldest boy a warm smile. "Go on, Loz," he made a shooing motion with his hands, "before Kadaj gets upset with you for lagging behind."

Loz's large, tilted green eyes widened with dread at the prospect of facing his tenshi's temper. He pressed a quick kiss to Cissnei's cheek and quickly trotted past them, oblivious to the curious stares of those around him as he joined his brothers. Sephiroth, however, was all too aware of them.

As was Vincent, which became obvious as he frowned and stepped away from the party. "I'll keep an eye on them," he said, sweeping past Tseng with a dramatic flip of his cape.

"Oh, hell, I'll go too," Cid muttered as he strode after him. "Damn it all, Vincent. Wait up!"

Cissnei stared after them and uttered a loud sigh. If Vincent was worried about the attention Loz and his brothers were getting, she should be too. "I guess, you won't have to take care of me after all," she said as she drew her Shuriken and moved to follow. "Don't worry, General. I'll make sure they behave. Tseng, I'll turn in my final report later."

The Wutaian man merely stared after them with opaque black eyes, unsurprised by the news that Cissnei was resigning from The Turks. Reno had warned him of that, too. "That man. . .he is Vincent Valentine?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes," Sephiroth replied simply.

"He has become something of a legend among The Turks," Tseng explained with a faint smile. "He was my mentor's partner, in his youth. Veld held him in the highest esteem."

"Well, he's Sephiroth's father, too," Aerith chimed in brightly. "That's impressive enough all on its own."

Tseng smiled faintly, thinking of the man who waited in the Command Center, and hoped that Valentine didn't spend too much time with Strife's mother. "We have stayed away from the reactor, as you suggested," he announced in a quick return to business, "but with Nibelheim empty, the monsters have begun to leave the mountain. We have squads patrolling the town, but they are quickly being outnumbered. You'll have to fight your way through them to reach Mount Nibel."

Sephiroth merely nodded his understanding and decided to test the waters now. "I believe that Shinra Manor has been likewise infested," he said, meeting and holding The Turk's gaze with his own. "It would be wise to consider clearing it, as well."

"This is a cold region," Tseng responded, carefully, painfully neutral. "I believe that Fire magic may be the best way to deal with such a problem."

Sephiroth smiled slowly, already imagining the building engulfed in flames. "I quite agree," he said in a low, satisfied voice. Shinra Manor would burn as it should have the first time, and its secrets would burn with it.

Angeal was frowning as he noticed the growing number of civilians gathering around them. "Is there a place where we can discuss this privately?"

Tseng nodded immediately. "We have set up an officer's barracks in the Command Center, General Hewley. If you'll follow me, I'll take you there."

The leader of The Turks led them past the assembly of curious onlookers, and to a ninth tent that Sephiroth had previously missed. It was only slighter smaller than the other seven, but the two Turks stationed just outside of the entrance made it clear that this was not a place for civilians. Tseng nodded at his men and ducked inside, holding the large canvas flap open for the party to enter. He dropped it behind them, and Sephiroth let out a mental sigh of relief. He loathed being the center of attention.

The interior of the tent was what one would expect of a makeshift barracks. Several cots were neatly lined up against the west wall, covered in the thin green blankets that were standard in the Shinra Army. A large table had been set up near the east wall, the documents spread across its surface showing that it served as The Turk's information hub. Several portable chairs had been set up around it, and Sephiroth was shocked to see a dead man sitting in one of them.

"Director Veld," he greeted, unable to keep his voice completely free of surprise as he added, "It is. . .good to see you alive."

The former Director of The Department Of Administrative Research smiled faintly as he stood and extended his hand. "General Sephiroth," he returned simply. "I hear that I have you and your men to thank for the death of my daughter's killer?"

It was more a statement than a question, and as Sephiroth watched Genesis and Angeal trade mystified looks, he realized just who Veld must be referring to. "I did not realize that Elfe was your child," he murmured, feeling awkward as he shook the proffered hand. "You have my condolences, Director."

Veld merely shook his head and resumed his seat, his aged features taking on a faintly sorrowful cast. "Tseng tells me that you have a man by the name of Vincent Valentine travelling with you?" he asked in a necessary change of subject.

Sephiroth nodded solemnly as he lowered himself into one of the chairs. "Vincent went with my. . .brothers to see Cloud's mother," he murmured in answer. "I'm sure they will be along shortly."

The former Turk merely nodded, his dark gaze switching to Genesis and Angeal. "General Hewley, General Rhapsodos," he greeted quietly.

"Director," they returned, both men still looking as surprised as Sephiroth himself had felt.

Tseng noticed that they were still standing and gestured towards the chairs. "Sit, please," he invited quietly. "We have a lot to go over tonight."

Tseng watched intently as Genesis grabbed the nearest chair and dragged it over to where Sephiroth sat. The Scarlet General set it as close to Sephiroth as he could and dropped into it, his expression defiant as he reached out and grasped the other man's hand in his own. Much to Tseng's surprise, Sephiroth not only allowed the overly familiar touch, but returned it. A black-clad thumb swept over the back of Rhapsodos' crimson-covered hand, a caress that left no doubts about the nature of their "friendship", and made Tseng miss his own lover that much more.

He cleared his throat and looked away, busying himself with the files that were scattered across the tabletop, and thrusting thoughts of Lazard out of his mind. Lazard was—thankfully—safe in Midgar, and Tseng had too much to do to let himself be distracted by personal matters. He set the more pertinent files to his right and seated himself, opening his laptop and cuing up a copy of the reactor's blueprints. He turned the laptop sideways, so that it would be visible to everyone present, and began to speak.

"Reno tells me that you plan to remove Jenova from the reactor?"

Sephiroth nodded an affirmative, tucking his hair back behind his ear as it slid into his face. "By force, if necessary."

"Why not simply destroy the reactor instead?" Tseng questioned. "She is trapped, after all. Why risk a confrontation with a being whose abilities we have yet to properly ascertain?"

Sephiroth was surprised yet again at the question; he hadn't expected such a suggestion from any of Shinra's representatives. He slid a sidelong glance at first Angeal, and then Genesis, each of whom were frowning as they looked at Tseng, and knew that he had to be very careful with his response. "Aside from the cost of doing such a thing, there is a certain risk of. . . contamination," he answered slowly, cautiously. "Jenova's remains must be disposed of properly. Leaving to her to rot in a vat of mako would only exacerbate the situation."

Genesis surprised him by nodding his fiery head rather forcefully. "Aerith said that a mental degradation swept through the Cetra civilization like a plague," he explained. "She wasn't certain exactly what caused it, but if it was some kind of disease, Jenova could still have it, and the last thing we need is for it to get out."

Geostigma. Tseng let out a harsh breath and sent the young Cetra a questioning look. She nodded, her gamine features unusually solemn, silently confirming General Rhapsodos' words. And after all Reno had told him of the disease, of what the disease had done to the people of Midgar—and Rufus Shinra—Tseng knew that he could take no chances with this.

"You're saying that it could trigger an epidemic in the local populace," he stated flatly.

"Before it spread, most certainly," Sephiroth returned grimly. "Containment would prove problematic, if not impossible. The Lifestream runs very close to the surface in some areas, and it would certainly cause an overflow here should the reactor be damaged to such an extent. As mako-energy is still in use, the results would be disastrous were Jenova's body to become a part of it. It is better not to leave such a thing to chance, Tseng. Jenova must be either destroyed, or removed from the equation—completely."

Angeal's frown deepened as he leaned forward and set his elbows on the table. This was the first time that he had heard of any disease, and it bothered him that neither of his friends had thought to mention it before now.

"And that's exactly what we're going to do." Aerith set a hand over his, squeezing in a gesture that he knew was meant to comfort. Her sage-green eyes met and held his, taking on the sudden flash of mature wisdom that had first drawn him to her, and he realized that she had known about this all along. "We're going to stop Jenova, and we're going to save everyone."

Angeal nodded slowly, his doubts receding as his pride came to the fore. It didn't matter what information Sephiroth and Genesis had withheld. They were SOLDIERs—heroes—and it was their duty to protect the people of this world, no matter what obstacles they faced.

"Sephiroth is right," he said at length, dragging his gaze from Aerith's and focusing on Tseng with hard, determined sapphire eyes. "We're the SOLDIERs here. We'll deal with Jenova. You Turks stick to keeping the people safe."

Tseng lifted one dark eyebrow at that, and Sephiroth found himself fighting a sudden tightening in his chest. This was the Angeal he remembered, the man whose pride in himself meant everything, the SOLDIER who believed in duty and honor above all else. This was the friend he had refused to confront, and the man whose death had devastated him. It was. . . good to fight alongside him once again.

He drew a deep, sharp breath and cleared his emotion-clogged throat. "Why is the Highwind here?" he asked, moving onto another, less stressful subject."I wouldn't have thought it necessary, in light of what you've already done."

He gestured towards their surroundings, and Tseng's eyes gleamed with what appeared to be amusement. "That would be the work of Captain Highwind," he answered as he settled back into his chair. "He can be quite. . .persuasive when he wants to be."

Genesis only laughed at that. He didn't know how Cloud, Aerith, and Vincent knew the man, but he remembered the foul-mouthed man as the pilot who had once been the darling of Palmer's Space Program. "Persuasive?" he questioned with obvious amusement. "That's certainly one way to put it."

Angeal grunted even as a smile tugged at his lips; he remembered Captain Highwind, too. "It's not the word I'd have chosen, either," he said wryly.

"Indeed." The Turk allowed himself a small smile. "It took some time to become accustomed to his rather unique style of speaking, but he has proven himself to be an invaluable addition to the company. He is as talented as you believed, Sephiroth. Rufus is. . . grateful for your recommendation."

Sephiroth shrugged one, the metal pauldrons adorning his shoulders clanking faintly with the motion. "Blame Cloud," he said in a dry voice. "It was his idea, originally."

"Be nice, brother," Aerith scolded lightly. "Cid is a good man."

"We were discussing his language, Aerith, not his merit," Tseng told her calmly.

She straightened in her chair and sent him a stern look which was out of place on her youthful features. "You be nice too, Tseng. He's my friend," she added stubbornly.

"Your friend has a foul mouth, Miss Gainsborough." Veld sent her a smile to take the sting out of his words and rose to his feet. "Tseng, I have other business to attend to. If you'll excuse me. . .?"

"Of course, sir." Tseng stood, waiting until the older man swept from the tent to resume his seat. "Veld did not believe that Captain Highwind's language was as bad as I had described until he met him."

Aerith laughed at that, her good humor restored. "Luckily, Cid has other qualities that make up for his mouth."

Sephiroth merely shook his head and directed the conversation back to more important matters. He spent the next hour outlining his plan—Kadaj's, in truth—to imprison Jenova and use Shinra #26 to dispose of her. Tseng's eyebrows rose higher with each word that he uttered, but the other man voiced no objections, his concerns for the company—and for Rufus—enough to quell any concerns he might have had about the cost of such an operation. Shinra Electric Power Company could afford to lose a few million gil if it meant saving The Planet from worldwide devastation.

And when Tseng asked about Jenova's latest assault, Sephiroth forced himself to swallow his pride and answer honestly. He explained precisely what had happened, and how he and his "brothers" had been working to strengthen his mental defenses. Tseng took it all in stoically, but a sliver of concern showed in the depths of his dark eyes. Unfortunately, there was little Sephiroth could do to alleviate his worry. He was still susceptible to Mother's influence, and all he could do was continue to fight her for control of his mind. Soon enough, they would send her back to the cosmos she so longed to rejoin. He only had to keep himself sane long enough do so.

And as he felt Genesis' hand tighten almost painfully around his own, he reminded himself that he was not alone, as he had been the first time. He had his friends, his family, and his kitten at his side. With their support, there was nothing he could not do.

Mother didn't stand a chance.

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Cloud strode urgently through the encampment, weaving through the crowd of people he had once lived among, his fine features set in determined lines. He didn't receive any greetings from the denizens of his hometown, and he didn't expect any. He and his mother had always been the outcasts, outsiders in the lovely little mountain community, for all that Cloud had been born there. Those that hadn't actively tried to make his life a living hell had snubbed him, talking behind his back in veiled whispers that somehow always managed to reach him. No, Cloud had stopped caring what these simple, small-minded people thought of him a long time ago. He would save them because it was the right thing to do, but he would never again be one of them. Too much had changed for him to ever go back to such a simple existence.

A small hand tightened around his, and he was reminded of all the reasons a normal life wasn't meant for him. Kadaj's pale emerald eyes were dark as he jogged beside him, his normal arrogance replaced by the uncertainty that had marked their tumultuous relationship since their reunion. Kadaj's fear of losing him hadn't dimmed in the least, and Cloud had to face the possibility that his little tyrant might never overcome all of his insecurities.

But that wouldn't stop him from trying to ease them, Cloud thought as he slowed his pace just enough to pull the young man to his side. Kadaj brightened instantly, the darkness receding from his brilliant eyes, a smile lighting his angelically cherubic features, and Cloud didn't even try to resist the urge that had him bending down to taste that light.

He heard several gasps in the air around him and couldn't help but smirk just a little as he raised his head. He'd shocked them, and he didn't give a damn. He'd made his baby happy, and that's all that mattered. "Come on," he murmured, slinging an arm around Kadaj's shoulders to keep him close. "I want you to meet my mother."

Kadaj was positively beaming as he looped an arm around Cloud's waist in return. "I can't wait to meet her, Nii-san," he said with excitement. "We never had a chance to before, and we've always been curious about you."

"Yeah, we have," Loz boomed at his back. "You were always real strong, and it made us wonder, you know?"

Cloud's step faltered for just a moment at the unpleasant reminder of his "brothers'" origins. While they might be physically separate entities, their souls were pieces of Sephiroth's own. They had experienced everything that he had, the good and not so good, and that included Sephiroth's memories of fighting Cloud time and time again. They knew how easily Sephiroth—Jenova—had taken control of his mind during Meteorfall, but for some reason he'd never been able to comprehend, they still considered him to be strong. He didn't understand it, but since he knew how important strength was to Kadaj, it served to reason that they saw something in him that he himself didn't.

Or couldn't, Cloud told himself with brutal honesty. He had always seen himself as weak, the small boy with the strange hair who had been the target of every bully in Nibelheim. It had been the same in Midgar, where the other Shinra cadets had tried their very best to break him, simply because he was different from them. He hadn't been strong enough to protect his mother in Nibelheim the night Sephiroth went insane, or to keep Zack from sacrificing himself to save him years later. He hadn't even been strong enough to protect Aerith, a girl who had meant everything to him.

And yet, these three boys, these remnants of a fallen god, looked at him and saw only strength. No, he didn't understand it, and he doubted that he ever would. It was enough to know that they believed it, and he would do everything in his power to live up to their expectations. He wouldn't fail anyone else.

"What about you?" He slanted a glance over his shoulder, to where Yazoo strode calmly behind Kadaj in a protective, differential manner. "Are you. . .curious, too?"

Yazoo met his gaze evenly, even as his dainty features took on a thoughtful cast. "Yes," he said at length, a simple answer that told Cloud virtually nothing. He was on the verge of turning away when Yazoo spoke again. "You fought, even when you had no reason to. You fought, when it would have been easier to surrender. You fought, and you triumphed. That is the true measure of strength, brother. I look forward to meeting the woman who taught you that strength."

Cloud blinked, shock robbing him of the ability to do little else. He cast a quick glance at Vincent, who walked just beside Yazoo, and was greeted with a small, nearly imperceptible smile. "You mean that's why you all followed me?" he asked incredulously. "Because I was stupid enough to keep trying?"

"Courage is not a lack of fear, Cloud." Deep red eyes met and held his own. "It is doing what is necessary despite your fear. You were strong enough to persevere where others could not, and thatis why we follow you, even now."

Cloud felt the blush creeping into his face and hastily and looked away, embarrassed and proud all at once. He didn't thank the other man—Vincent already knew how much he respected him—and he honestly didn't know what to say. What he saw as weakness, his friends—his family—saw as strength, and he doubted that anything he said would be enough to change their minds.

"Cloud!" A pretty young girl with long dark hair and burnished eyes came running towards him, and Cloud's widened with alarm as Tifa Lockheart threw herself into his arms. "You came! You came! You kept your promise and you came to rescue me!"

Oh, Gods! Cloud thought with a wince. This was something he could have done without!

"Uh, hi, Tifa," he mumbled with embarrassment, patting the girl's back as her arms threatened to cut off his air supply. "How-how are you?"

Tifa drew back with a wide, nearly blinding smile, and for a few moments, Cloud was deathly afraid that she was going to kiss him. "I'm better now that my hero is here!" she exclaimed, blushing as she remembered where they were and stepped back. "You look very handsome, Cloud. And look at that wolf! It looks just like a Nibel Wolf! Is this your 1st Class uniform?"

Cloud nodded, blushing himself as she reached up and began to toy with the wolf's ring. While he hadn't technically made it to First, he was one in every way that counted. "Uh, Tifa, your father's here somewhere," he pointed out uncomfortably. "You probably shouldn't do that—"

"You're damned right she shouldn't!" Kadaj looked positively furious as he grasped Tifa's wrist in one tiny, black-gloved hand and unceremoniously shoved her away from Cloud. "Hands off, lady. He's mine!"

"Shit." Cloud hastily grabbed his lover's hand and pulled him away from Tifa, who was rubbing her wrist as she gazed at Kadaj with shock-widened brown eyes. "Tifa, I'm sorry. I can explain—"

"Oh, can you, now?" Kadaj dropped one hand to the hilt of his sword, his blue-edged green eyes narrowing with jealous anger. "Go ahead, Cloud. Explain me to little Miss Tits!"

Cloud heard a grunt of hastily suppressed laughter to his right and shot Vincent a dark look. "You're not helping here," he snapped, turning back to his childhood friend, and his very irate lover. "Tifa, this is Kadaj. He's my. . .boyfriend."

"Your what?" Tifa's lips parted on a gasp as her deep brown gaze shot back and forth between he and Kadaj. "But he can't be! He's a—I mean, you're a—Cloud, you're men!"

"No shit!" Kadaj snapped sarcastically. "What was your fucking first clue, lady?"

Cloud made a frustrated sound and quickly stepped between them. "Kadaj, back off," he ordered, his tone changing as he added, "Please, baby, for me?"

Kadaj glared at Tifa for a long moment before slowly, reluctantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "For you, Nii-san," he said pointedly, "but if she touches you again, I'll cut her fucking hands off!"

Cloud nodded hastily, wanting nothing more than to diffuse the situation before Kadaj did exactly as he threatened. His beautiful little tyrant did not share, and he wasn't above maiming another human being to get his point across. "Tifa, I know you're disappointed, but. . ."

His voice trailed off, and there were tears in Tifa's beautiful brown eyes as she asked, "If he's your," her voice faltered for a few moments, "boyfriend, why does he call you 'brother'?"

Cloud cursed silently for not anticipating this. At this point in time, Tifa was taking martial arts instructions from Master Zangan, who was a native of Wutai. He knew from past conversations that he had taught her the language of his homeland, something which had come in handy during their travels.

But not so much now, Cloud thought with a sigh. "Nii-san is more like a. . .nickname, Tifa. Kadaj's brothers use it, too."

For the first time, Tifa seemed to notice the two silver-haired men who stood quietly at his back. "Are they General Sephiroth's brothers?" she asked with a touch of excitement. "The whole camp's been buzzing about them!"

"Uh-huh," Loz said with a nod of his silver head. He thumped himself on the chest proudly as he added, "I'm the oldest, and I like girls."

Cissnei rolled her eyes and wacked him in the back of the head with the flat side of her weapon. "You're spoken for, remember?"

"Ouch!" Loz rubbed the spot and sent Tifa a rueful glance. "I'm not allowed to play with other girls anymore. Sorry."

Tifa's brandy eyes were very wide as she floundered for a response. Luckily, Yazoo stepped in before she could form one. "My brothers seem to have forgotten their manners," he said in lieu of greeting. "My name is Yazoo, and these are my brothers, Loz and Kadaj."

He smiled, and that was enough to send fresh color rushing into the girl's. "It's nice to meet you, Yazoo," she returned, still sounding a bit confused. "So. . .do you call Cloud brother, too?"

"Indeed, I do," he replied, tilting his head to one side. Her gaze followed the fall of his hair as it swayed with the motion, and Yazoo's smile widened fractionally. "As Nii-san says, it is a term of. . .affection."

"But. . ." Tifa's voice trailed off as she bit her bottom lip uncertainly. "Doesn't it mean enemy in the context you're using it?"

"It can," Yazoo allowed, sending Cloud a sidelong glance, "but in our case, it simply means that we have accepted him into our family. He is one of us, now. An honorary sibling, as it were."

"Oh." Tifa's shoulders slumped as even as she attempted a smile. "Well, that's. . .nice."

Cloud hated the guilt that crept through him at Tifa's obvious upset, but he knew better than to offer comfort. She had always misconstrued his actions, seeing attraction where there was none, only to be disappointed when he pulled away. It was better that he put emotional distance between them now, before she got her hopes up again. He belonged to Kadaj, and that was never going to change.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and peeked at her from under the cover of his bangs. "Uh, we were headed to where they're keeping Mom," he mumbled self-consciously. "You wouldn't know where that is, would you?"

Tifa nodded slowly, her waist-length fall of dark brown hair rippling around her. "Follow me. I'll take you to her."

She turned away, and Cloud grasped Kadaj's hand, murmuring a grateful, "Thank you," as he moved to follow.

Kadaj snorted and stuck his nose in the air, but his hand tightened around Cloud's, which told Cloud all that he needed to know. His baby wasn't happy that he was forced to deal with yet another of Cloud's friends—especially one he had slept with—but he really was trying to control himself. Otherwise, he would have removed Tifa's hands before he gave her the warning, and he wouldn't have thought twice about it. He was as ruthless as Sephiroth had ever been, and it was up to Cloud to teach him how to keep that ruthlessness leashed.

"Yo, Strife! Over here!"

He looked up to find Reno standing before a smaller tent, waving one thin arm to catch his attention. Rude stood at silently at his side, his sunglasses firmly in place, effectively hiding his expression. But as they drew near, Cloud noticed that the bald Turk straightened his stance, which drew attention to his superior height, probably hoping to draw Tifa's attention to him. He'd had a crush on her for all the years Cloud had known him, and it appeared that not even altering past events could change it. Maybe, without Cloud around, Rude would have a chance this time.

He hoped so, Cloud thought as he came to a stop before the two men. Tifa deserved the chance to be happy, even if it was with a Turk. "How is she?" he asked without preamble.

"Rude says that she's quiet now, but she's been pissed the fuck off for the past week, so you should be careful," Reno answered, his expression faintly apologetic. "I guess, she didn't like being tranked, again, yo."

Cloud rubbed the ache that was forming behind his eyes. "No, I'm sure she didn't," he muttered with a combination of anger and weariness. He let his hand drop and turned to Kadaj, who was watching him with a surprisingly sympathetic expression, and managed a strained smile. "You and your brothers wait for me out here, all right? I'll call you in once I've got Mom calmed down."

Kadaj nodded with uncharacteristic solemnity and patted his arm comfortingly. "We'll be here, Nii-san. You just take care of Mother."

Cloud sent him a grateful smile and lifted the tent flap. "Cloud?"

He looked back to find Tifa's eyes on him. "Yeah?"

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asked in a quiet voice.

He shook his head negatively, grateful that she had offered, but wanting to see his mother alone. "Thanks, Tifa, but I've got it."

He drew a deep breath and ducked inside tent, and Kadaj let out a sigh of his own. He hated that Nii-san's mother was sick, but since it was a sickness of the mind, he really couldn't do anything to help her. All he could do was stand here with his brothers and wait for Cloud. Kadaj only hoped that he wouldn't be too upset when he came out. Having a crazy mother really hurt sometimes!

Although, he doubted that she was that crazy. Jenova's insanity was a kind of unique one. Probably because she wasn't really human anymore, Kadaj reasoned. She had probably been a really nice lady before she changed, and he almost wished he could've met her then, before she came up with the whole "take over The Planet and kill every human in existence" thing.

He had to admit that he'd always been curious about what it would be like to travel the cosmos as she once had. When Mother thought of her past travels, it always frustrated her not to be able to do it again. But, he'd seen what outer space looked like in Cosmo Canyon, and that was good enough for him. Human or not, he liked Gaia, even with all of the dumbass humans.

And, Gods, they were everywhere, Kadaj thought as he looked around him. Short, tall, fat, thin, blond, brunette. . .nearly every flavor of human seemed to be here, which was weird as hell, considering how small a town Nibelheim actually was. He'd even seen a Wutaian —one besides the Turk—wandering around the camp. What the hell he was doing in this no-chocobo town was something Kadaj would love to know.

There were a lot of old people, though. They stood around in little groups—all of the women were wearing dresses and clutching shawls—whispering to each other like they had something important to hide. They didn't, though. Kadaj could hear their conversations very clearly, and he knew that it was them that everyone was busy gossiping about.

Kadaj rolled his eyes at that. Humans could be so fucking stupid sometimes. What did it matter where he and his brothers had come from? There were here, and they weren't going anywhere. The rest of it was none of their fucking business!

He traded a glance with Yazoo, who looked as irritated as he felt by all the attention they were getting. Normally, he'd relish a chance to show off a little, but he was cold and tired and hungry as hell. All he wanted to do was eat, shower, and go to bed with Nii-san. Standing around doing nothing while a bunch of mountain hicks ogled him was not his idea of a good time.

An old man in a plain black suit approached them, and he scowled his displeasure. One of the humans had finally worked up the courage to talk to them, Kadaj thought sourly. Unlike the others, this one didn't veer off and go around them at the last minute. However, when he bypassed them and stopped directly in front of Vincent, Kadaj knew that he wasn't just another civilian nobody.

"Vincent," he said simply, and Kadaj was shocked when quiet, solemn, stick-in-the-much Vincent began to laugh.

"Veld," he returned, his too-deep voice quivering with mirth, "when did you get so old?"

The older man only smirked and extended his hand. "About the same time you developed your leather fetish, I believe."

Vincent showed none of his usual reserve as he gripped the proffered hand. "It's good to see you, partner," he said warmly.

"It's good to see you out of that damned coffin," Veld retorted. "I always knew you were smarter than you looked, Valentine."

"Thanks," Vincent replied dryly. He turned to back to them and explained, "This is Veld. He was my partner when I was a Turk. Veld, this is Yazoo, Kadaj, Cissnei, and Loz. No last names."

"Pfft." Kadaj made a dismissive sound. "Like we need them."

"Manners, tenshi," Yazoo told him in a gentle rebuke. The younger boy snorted, and Yazoo stepped past him to shake Veld's hand politely. "I am Yazoo, and this my younger brother, Kadaj. Please, excuse his manners. He means no offense."

Kadaj blew a raspberry at him, and Veld found himself chuckling at the young man's audacity. Felicia had been just as spirited, in her youth. "It's quite all right," Veld assured him with a smile. "Are you the oldest?"

"Nope, that'd be me," Loz said, drawing himself up to his full intimidating height. "I'm the biggest, too."

"That doesn't mean a damned thing," Kadaj told him with a scowl. "I can kick both your asses, and you outweigh me by. . .what, a hundred pounds?"

"Hey!" Loz protested. "I am not that big, 'Daj!"

Kadaj rolled his eyes and turned away. "Put a sock in it, brother," he snapped, borrowing one of Nii-san's favorite sayings.

Cissnei burst out laughing at that. "Quit picking on your brother," she admonished lightly. "You're going to give him an inferiority complex."

"I'm sure he already has," Vincent muttered under his breath.

"Hey! I heard that!" Kadaj stomped one foot on the ground and glared at him angrily. "Yazoo, tell your boyfriend to back the fuck off before I remember that I don't like him!"

Veld's eyebrows shot up at that. "Trouble in paradise, Valentine?"

Vincent merely shrugged in response, but the look in his crimson eyes said that Kadaj's enmity was more than returned. "Are you here to help us in Nibelheim?" he asked in lieu of answer.

It was Veld's turn to shrug. "Tseng says that you might need it." He hesitated before adding, "I also wanted to thank your son for taking care of Rosso The Crimson for me."

Vinent's eyes flickered at his words. "I'm sorry about Felicia. If I'd known where you were. . ."

His voice trailed off, and Veld nodded his understanding. "When did you discover that Sephiroth was your child?" he asked seriously.

"That is a. . .long story," Vincent told him at length. "Why don't we go somewhere private to discuss it?"

Veld nodded again, and Vincent turned back to Yazoo and the others. "I'm going to spend some time with Veld," he told the young gunman quietly. "I'll be back in a little while. Cissnei, you'll look after them?"

"Of course, Vincent," she answered with a smile. "You two go on and catch up on old times."

"I'll help, too," Tifa said, and Vincent felt guilty as he realized that he had forgotten she was even there.

"Thank you, Miss Lockheart." He turned back to Yazoo, who was watching him with hooded green eyes, and smiled slightly. "I'll see you soon, pretty one."

Yazoo merely gazed at him for a long moment, not sure he liked this recent turn of events. But as those haunting ruby eyes gazed into his own, he found himself nodding his assent. He trusted Vincent; he merely hated being away from him. "Enjoy your time with your friend, dark one. We'll be fine with Cissnei. . .and Tifa."

Vincent pressed his lips to the silken skin of his pretty one's cheek and drew away, his tattered crimson cape fluttering behind him as he and Veld walked away. Yazoo sighed in unconscious appreciation, already looking forward to when he would return. He always missed his dark one terribly when they were apart.

"Hey." He looked to find Cissnei smiling crookedly at him. "He'll be back, you know."

"I am aware," Yazoo replied stiffly, and then sighed again. "I don't like being away from him. After all that's happened. . ."

His voice trailed off, and she understood his feelings completely. "Why don't we go find the mess tent and get something to eat?" she suggested. "We can bring something back for Cloud when we're done."

Yazoo smiled faintly. "Thank you, sister."

"You're welcome, brother."

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Cloud lay on a small cot in the officer's barracks, his hands folded behind his head, his gaze blank as he stared at the canvas that served as the tent's ceiling. He was tired as hell, but his mind refused to let him rest. So much had happened—was still happening—that he was having trouble processing it all, and tomorrow, he had to go back to the place where all of his nightmares began.

He was going home.

Cloud sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet stillness of the room. He was going home, and there wasn't a damn thing left for him there. Tifa was nothing more than a childhood acquaintance now, a young girl he had once crushed on, but had never really known. She would never become the best friend he had cherished, because without Nibelheim's destruction, she would never have any reason to leave their hometown. And then, there was Mom. . .

Cloud rolled over, scrunching his pillow under him to make it more comfortable, and tried not to think about his "visit" with his mother. It didn't work, of course. He could still see her as she'd been, disheveled and emotionally distant, locked away in whatever reality her mind had conjured for her. When he'd left for Midgar two years ago, he'd hoped that his absence would help her, relieve her of the stress she'd suffered raising him alone.

But in a dark, selfish part of his heart, he knew the truth—he'd been relieved to get away from her. At fourteen, he'd realized his mother's erratic behavior wasn't normal, and he'd been both confused and embarrassed by it. Even if he'd had any friends, he would have been afraid to bring them home, for fear that his mother would freak out in front them. He felt guilty about it now, but that didn't change the fact that his teenage self had been ashamed of his mentally ill mother.

And the worst part was that he still couldn't help her. He'd saved the world three damned times, travelled back in time to change the horrible things he'd experienced, and he couldn't do a damned thing for his own mother. Maybe, that Shinra doctor had been right; it was time to think about full-time care for her.

Cloud flinched at the very thought of it. He would never send his mother to an mental hospital, but maybe he could hire a full-time nurse for her or something. He wasn't exactly a rich man, but he'd never had a problem making gil. Hell, he'd probably make a small fortune just fighting his way from Nibelheim to the mako reactor. The monsters in this area were rare, and their hides could always be sold for a decent profit. And if it came down to it, he could always ask Sephiroth for the gil.

A part of him quailed at the thought of asking his former nemesis for anything, but Cloud knew that Sephiroth would understand. A mother was an important, almost sacred thing to him and the boys, a person to be loved and revered beyond all others. Sephiroth had sent a doctor to Nibelheim months earlier, no questions asked, merely because he'd said that his mother was ill. Yes, Sephiroth would help if he asked, but he would only do so as a last resort.

He glanced over at the man in question, not surprised to see the other man's eyes glowing in the darkness. In the last few months, he'd discovered that Sephiroth didn't sleep much at night. He was always on guard, even when he did manage to fall asleep, and the slightest sound was enough to wake him in a matter of seconds. Cloud didn't know if it was how he'd been raised, or due to his time in Wutai during the war, but Sephiroth was the lightest sleeper he'd ever seen. And after travelling with Vincent Valentine for a year, that was saying a lot.

Genesis stirred in the cot beside Sephiroth's, mumbling something unintelligible as he turned over and threw a hand over the other man's arm. Sephiroth turned over, smiling with affection as he joined their hands, and Cloud hastily looked away. He knew that Sephiroth loved the man—the gods knew that Genesis touched him enough to make his own feelings clear—but it was still damned embarrassing to watch.

He had spent so much time hating the man that it almost seemed surreal, fighting alongside him, working with him instead of searching for ways to destroy him. Without Jenova there to pull his strings, Sephiroth was nothing more than a man with extraordinary abilities. For all of his alien genetics, he was one of the most human people Cloud had ever known.

'Nii-san?'

Kadaj's voice sounded in his mind, and he smiled to himself as he rolled to his back. 'Yes, baby?'

'You don't have to worry so much about Father. We have Truth to help keep him grounded this time.'

Cloud frowned and lifted his head just enough to gaze over at him. 'What do you mean by "truth", Kadaj?'

'Remember that summons materia we got from The Color?' Cloud nodded slowly. He remembered the eighth Goddess Materia that Rosso had "dropped" after her death, the one that Sephiroth had called incomplete, and Yazoo had named Truth. Kadaj sent him a sly grin that had all of his mental alarms going off at once. 'Truth will set him free, Nii-san. Just you wait and see.'

Now, Cloud was worried. 'Kadaj, you're not thinking of going behind Sephiroth's back and telling Genesis the truth, are you?' he asked with a very real alarm.

'No, not yet,' came the less than comforting response. 'I'll only do that if Genesis forces me to.'

Cloud prayed for patience when his lover failed to elaborate. 'Kadaj?'

'Yes, Nii-san?'

'What—exactly—are you planning to do?'

A very dramatic sigh wafted through Cloud's mind, and he found himself cringing with dread. 'Baby, please, I need to know what you're planning.'

'We had Genesis hold the materia the last time we stopped to make camp,' the young warrior told him, as though he should already know what that meant. When it became clear that he didn't, Kadaj graciously explained, 'We told him that we wanted to give it to Sephiroth as a gift, and asked him to tell us if it was close enough to being mastered to give it to him then. He said that it was, and we took it back, but not before it had drawn its namesake from him.'

Gods, but that did not sound good! Cloud thought with dismay. 'All right, baby, tell me exactly what you mean by that.'

'You worry way too much, Nii-san.' Kadaj must have sensed his frustration, because he quickly enlightened him. 'When Koneko held the materia, we made him take his gloves off, so he could be sure that he got a good reading. All Yazoo had to do was touch Truth while he was holding it, and he helped it kind of. . .well, copy Gen's feelings. Now, all Sephiroth has to do is equip the materia, and all of Genesis' feelings will be there to make him feel better. They'll help him stay strong, so that we can defeat Mother. Now, do you understand?'

'Yes,' Cloud replied, not relieved in the slightest by the overlong, convoluted explanation. 'Do you really think that one of The Planet's protective materias would be willing to help us beat Jenova?'

'Hell, yes, I do!' Kadaj responded instantly. 'After all, look what Yazoo was able to do with Phoenix. He made it badass.'

It was true, Cloud thought, some of his worry easing at the realization. Yazoo had somehow altered the Phoenix summons, something that he couldn't have done without the summons' permission. If Phoenix had been willing to defy Gaia to help them, who was to say that this Truth wouldn't, too?

'I hope you're right, baby,' he told Kadaj at length. 'I hope to hell you're right.'

'I am, Nii-san,' Kadaj assured him solemnly. 'Of course, if you'd just stop doubting me in the first place, you wouldn't have to worry so much.'

Cloud found himself smiling broadly, proud at his little tyrant's ingenuity. 'When will you give him the materia?'

'Tomorrow,' Kadaj answered promptly. 'Yazoo's going to give it to him before we head into town.'

Cloud's smile died at the reminder that he was returning to Nibelheim, the very last place in the world that anybody wanted to be. It was a picturesque little town, but its innocent façade held too many secrets. Sometimes, he thought that Nibelheim must be cursed, to have had so many horrible things happen within its limits.

'It won't be cursed for much longer,' Kadaj told him confidently. 'Don't you worry, Nii-san, we'll take of all of that when we torch the mansion and kick Mother's ass. Nibelheim will be back to being a one-chocobo town in no time.'

A burst of involuntary laughter escaped him, and he quickly turned his head into his pillow to muffle it. It was inappropriate, considering the circumstances, but the Gods knew that he needed the release. 'Come over here, and I'll give you a better release than that, Nii-san.'

Cloud only shook his head and burrowed further into his pillow, trying desperate not to laugh aloud and wake the whole room. 'Feeling better?' Kadaj asked smugly, and Cloud had to admit that he was. 'Thank you, Kadaj.'

'You're welcome, Nii-san.' The younger man paused before adding, 'Are you sure I can't talk you into—'

'Goodnight, Kadaj.'

'Okay, fine, have it your way,' Kadaj grumbled, turning over and giving Cloud his back. 'Just remember who turned who down the next time you're horny.'

Cloud grinned at his back, and when he finally drifted off the sleep, the smile stayed with him.

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Crimson WEAPON emerged from the shadows of darkness to find himself in the very last place he wanted to be. The walls were painted a sickening, unoriginal shade of pea green, while the floors were covered in plain white tile. Medical equipment filled nearly every nook and cranny of the small room, while one wall sported a window of reinforced glass for observation purposes. He remembered this room well, and he could only be thankful that—this time—he was not one of the Dr. Hollander's "patients".

However, one of his brothers was. Weiss The Immaculate lay insensate on a surprisingly large hospital bed, though Crimson knew that he would not be unconscious for very much longer. A bevy of wires and monitoring equipment were hooked to his head and his bare torso, and a quietly bleeping machine counted out the beats of his heart. Even as Crimson watched the comatose man, the high-pitched sounds rose from their steady, predictable rhythm, and he prepared himself to meet the strongest of his brothers for the third time in his life.

The shadows deepened in the corner beside him, and Nero stepped from them a few seconds later. His handsome, refined features betrayed relief as he hurried to his brother's bedside, and Crimson could only after him with affection. He had become fond of Nero in the two weeks they had travelled together, getting to know the boy in a way that he hadn't been given the time to before. Nero was surprisingly sensitive, even after all that Hojo and The Restrictor had put him through, though he was far from weak. The young gunner didn't flinch from the thought of taking lives—whether they be monster or human—he simply disliked the stress that the demands of leadership had placed upon him. While Crimson himself had never felt that way, he could understand it. It was a sentiment that young Nero unknowingly shared with a certain silver-haired general, and it only made Crimson that much fonder of him.

He smiled sadly at the turn of his thoughts, knowing that he shouldn't be surprised. Nearly every thought that he had came back to Sephiroth, and it had only gotten worse since seeing him again. His imagination—always intensely vivid—had been working overtime since leaving Cosmo Canyon. He dreamed of his moonbeam every night, just as he had during his two-year internment below Mako Reactor 0. Sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter, his dreams were always sensual, and damned if they hadn't made sleeping on the ground that much harder.

But he knew better than to let himself hope, Crimson told himself with a touch of self-anger. Sephiroth had moved on—well, as much as he could, considering the circumstances—and he had no room in life for him. Even if The Goddess would allow such a thing—Crimson snorted quietly at the thought—he didn't deserve to be with Sephiroth. He had destroyed the other man in his misguided, rage-fueled attempts to reunite them in the past, and he would only do the same if given a second chance.

But that didn't mean that he couldn't help him. Sephiroth was fighting a losing battle as he struggled against the alien mother who had turned him into a monster. While Crimson himself was immune to her telepathic abilities, she was still part of him, and he could feel the echoes of everything she was doing to her "son". Sephiroth was close to breaking, and that was something that Crimson couldn't allow. He wouldn't let the past repeat itself, nor would he give his goddess what she wanted—Sephiroth's death. As soon as Weiss awakened, and they were reunited, he would return to the place where it had all began, and this time, he would make things right.

A low, rasping groan came to his ears, and Crimson focused his attention on yet another man he had once betrayed. Weiss' head with its soft silver-blond spikes shifted slightly, his thick black eyelashes fluttering as he fought his way to full consciousness. Nero sat on the edge of the bed, pausing to put fold his wings back as they got in the way, all of his attention focused on his older brother. Crimson himself moved closer to the bed, resting his hands on the hard plastic footboard as he came to a halt at the foot of it, his own gaze trained on the waking Tsviet.

Those sooty lashes finally lifted, revealing ice-blue eyes shades lighter than Genesis' own. "Brother!" Nero exclaimed, his startling ruby eyes filling with tears as he brought Weiss' hand to his lips. "Dear Weiss, you've finally returned to us!"

"Nero." Weiss' voice was little more than a rasp, but there was no mistaking the emotion tingeing it. Nero's tears spilled over, and he disengaged their hands to gently wipe them away, pausing as he realized that his brother no longer wore the restraints that The Restrictor had placed him in so long ago. "No tears, brother," he told the younger man sternly. "They don't suit The Prince of Deep Ground."

Nero immediately choked back a sob and tried to compose himself, not wanting to disappoint the older brother who meant so much to him. Crimson frowned as he watched the young gunner try—and fail—to stifle the emotional flow. "You've slept for two years, Weiss," he scolded the younger man equably. "Given the circumstances, I think that his reaction is entirely understandable. Don't you?"

Those pale, icy eyes narrowed with unmistakable menace as they shot to his own, but Crimson chose not to take offense at his brother's hostility. Like Nero, Weiss wouldn't remember him, and he had every right to be wary of a stranger in their midst. He watched as Weiss gathered the meager reserves of his strength—two years in a coma had taken their toll on his enhanced body—and began to inch his way up the bed. One of the cords attached to his head snagged on a piece of equipment, and Weiss scowled as he reached up and tore the offending object away.

That spurred both Nero and Crimson into action. Nero began to reach for the wires on his brother's head and neck, while Crimson approached from the other side of the bed. He ignored the warning look Weiss sent him, the one that promised death for daring to approach him, and yanked the remaining cords from him. Weiss raised a hand to stop him, but his long slumber had left him weak and uncoordinated. Crimson knocked his hand away, slid his own under the younger man's arms, and unceremoniously hauled him into a sitting position.

He easily dodged the punch Weiss threw his way and danced away from the bed. He took a seat on the foot of the bed and sent his brother a one of his patented smirks. Weiss' dark expression promised retribution, and it was all he could do not to laugh aloud. As arrogant as Weiss The Immaculate undoubtedly was, Crimson had it down to an art-form.

Nero was watching them with wide crimson eyes, obviously unable to imagine anyone defying his beloved brother, and the laughter finally broke free. Crimson shook his fiery head as he shifted to lean on one strong arm, the deceptively casual pose meant to put the younger man at ease. "Oh, brother, it truly is good to see you, again," he said, his voice wavering with the force of his mirth.

Weiss' response was a contemptuous sneer. "You're no brother of mine," he declared harshly.

"Of course, I am, Weiss." Crimson continued to smile as he graciously explained, "You don't know me now, but—"

"I know you." Weiss' hands dropped to his hips, reaching for weapons that weren't there, and hadn't been for quite some time. He scowled again, wishing that he had Heaven and Earth in his hands, so that he could cut down the treacherous dog before him. "I remember waking to find that you had used your 'gifts' to separate Nero and I. I remember you leaving us to fulfill your end of the pact you'd made with your goddess. I remember watching the world end as you betrayed us a second time and left us to die. Make no mistake, brother, I know you, and I want nothing more than to see you dead."

Nero's eyes widened even more at his brother's harsh words. "Weiss, you don't understand—"

"Silence!" His voice, deep and rough from years of disuse, nonetheless rang with authority, reminding all that he was still the Emperor of Deep Ground. "Is this the way you talk to your leader?"

Nero pulled away from him and dropped to his knees beside the bed, his face emptying all traces of emotion, and that was enough to wipe the smile from Crimson's face. "Forgive me," he said in a quiet, careful voice. "I meant no offense."

"Enough!"Crimson rose to his feet and stared down at his brothers, his expression harder than either man had ever seen it. "Nero is not just another one of your men, Weiss. He is your brother, and you must treat him as such."

"What would you know about family?" Another sneer darkened Weiss' countenance, and Crimson carefully tamped down a growing sense of anger, allowing the other man to have his say. "You left us in that cave with nothing more than a promise to return, and you broke that promise. Who do think held Nero when the fires came, who protected him with his dying breath? Was it you?"

"No," Weiss continued, his voice growing colder with every word that he spoke, "It was me. I am the one who died trying to protect him, I am the only person who has ever truly cared about him. How dare you speak to me of family, when you betrayed us by leaving us to die!"

"You think that's what I did?" Crimson asked in a deceptively soft voice. "You know very little of me, Weiss. Before you and Nero, I had two brothers. One by one, I watched them fall. Angeal fell to his pride, and Sephiroth to his pain. And when Sephiroth's consciousness managed to survive all the deaths that had been planned for him, The Goddess sent me to set things 'right'."

His pale blue eyes narrowed as they met and held Weiss' own. "You obviously remember the past, brother. You must remember what Hojo forced you to do?"

Weiss tore his gaze from the other man's, focusing on his brother, who knelt at his bedside still. Yes, he remembered the past. He remembered the feel of flesh and bone and sinew as his hand sunk deep into his brother's chest. He remembered screaming silently as the madman who shared his mind laughed at his brother's agony. He remembered merging with the remnants of Nero's spirit, his brother's darkness enough to expel the madman from his mind.

But more than anything, he remembered feel of his brother's soul as it became trapped within his own. As he'd realized that Nero was forever lost to him, he had ceased to care. Hojo had sacrificed his brother—and their kingdom—to awaken the ancient WEAPON, and Weiss had embraced the power that would end all life on The Planet. It had been preferable to living without Nero.

"After I refused to join you, I gave myself to The Goddess." Crimson's voice dragged him out of his painful reverie and back to a present he had yet to fully comprehend. "I spent eight years atoning for the evil I'd done, preparing for the day when I would become her champion. She sent me to you, Weiss. She guided my hand when I healed you and your brother, and gave me a family to replace the one she had stolen. And then, she demanded that I fulfill my part of our bargain."

The other man paused, and Weiss didn't think it was for dramatic effect. "I killed him," Crimson murmured, his expression becoming distant as he relived his own past. "I went to Banora and I waited for my brother to come, and then I killed him. He asked for my forgiveness, when he'd done nothing to wrong me, and I denied him. I honored my pact, and I destroyed myself in the process."

Crimson laughed, but the harsh sound held no amusement. "I didn't even think of you and Nero when it happened. All I could see was Sephiroth lying at my feet, dead from a wound I had inflicted, and I. . ."

"You destroyed The Planet." Crimson sent him an agonized look, one bereft of the arrogance that was such an integral part of him, and Weiss knew that his words were truth. "Your Goddess gave you the nearly unlimited power, and when she demanded the sacrifice of your brother's blood, you destroyed her for it."

"But not before taking Sephiroth's life," Crimson said bitterly. "You would never hurt Nero, but I killed Sephiroth. I was the one unworthy of The Goddess' mercy, not him, and yet I—"

"Stop sniveling," Weiss told him in a harsh voice. "What's done is done. We're here now—and I fully expect an explanation on how that happened—and if you ever want to be a family again, you'll forget about General Sephiroth and focus on us."

He gestured at his brother, still kneeling subserviently at his feet, and realized that the other man was right. Nero deserved better treatment that this. "Rise, brother, and take your place at my side. You are a Tsviet. You kneel before no man, not even me."

Nero raised his head slowly, his expression showing confusion as he rose to his feet. He hesitated before lowering himself to the bed once more, and for the first time, Weiss noticed the great black masses growing from his brother's back. "You did it," he said, his voice hushed as he reached out and brushed a hand over one downy wing. "You gave Nero his wings, just as you promised."

"I did more than that, Weiss." The arrogance crept back into Crimson's expression. "I released him from his restraints, and restored control of his power to him."

Only years of iron-clad control kept Weiss' surprise from showing on his face, but somehow, Crimson knew anyway. "I am a different man now, brother. There will no more broken vows."

"So you say." Weiss drew a deep breath and managed a smile for his brother, who returned it all too tentatively. "They suit you, Nero. Do you like them?"

It was as close to praise as Nero could expect from a man as hard as his brother. "Yes, I like them very much," he answered honestly.

Before Weiss could speak again, Crimson heaved a heavy, wholly dramatic sigh and rose to his feet. "I'm afraid I must leave you for a time, brothers. Weiss, Nero will fill you in on what you have missed during your slumber. Listen closely to his words," he added as he turned away.

Weiss frowned after him, his displeasure all too obvious. "Already, you desert us?" he called out angrily. "You have learned nothing, Genesis Rhapsodos!"

Crimson stopped with his back to him, but his single black wing twitched once, a visible sign of his agitation. "Genesis Rhapsodos no longer exists," he said flatly. "My name is Crimson WEAPON."

"Brother," Nero's voice reached him, followed by the rustle of cloth, leather, and down, "tell him why you must go, so that he understands."

"No," Crimson told him gently, "I will leave that to you, brother. I must leave now, if I am to reach Nibelheim in time."

"Very well, brother. I will tell him your tale." Nero paused, and then added softly, "Good luck, brother. I hope you reach him in time."

Crimson smiled to himself, proud of the young man's strength, and wishing that he'd possessed even a portion of it at that age. "Thank you, Nero."

And then, he was gone, merging with the darkness as though born to it, traveling its ephemeral path with only one goal: to reach Nibelheim in time to destroy Jenova.